Scarlet’s Next Step

Scarlet's POV

It didn't take long for Marcus to say yes. A week after that night—pizza boxes still littering the coffee table, Lena's green eyes meeting his over a beer—he looked at me, his hairy hand on mine, and said, "If she makes you happy, babe, let her move in. I'm good with it." I kissed him hard, tasting the trust in him, my six-foot frame pressing against his 5'10" warmth. He loved me to death, and I loved him back—enough to know this was right. Lena packed her bags, her muscled arms hauling boxes into our spare room, and just like that, she was part of us.

Living with Lena was electric. She'd stride around in tank tops, her big tits bouncing free, her thick ass flexing in shorts as she cooked or stretched in the living room. I'd catch Marcus staring—his brown eyes flicking to her curves, then away, red creeping up his hairy neck. Scarlet smirked at me once, whispering, "He's smitten," and I couldn't argue. But it wasn't just lust. Lena and Marcus got close, fast. They'd talk over breakfast—him in his rumpled tees, chest hair spilling out, her leaning on the counter, all power and grace. He'd tease her about her gym obsession, she'd rib him about his hairy ass, and they'd laugh, easy and real. She'd even started calling him "fuzzy," a nickname that made him grin like a kid. I loved it—my husband and my flame finding their own rhythm.

Weeks passed, and the pull between me and Lena grew sharper. I'd watch her—red hair wild, muscles rippling as she lifted weights in the garage—and my body would ache, memories of her fucking me senseless flooding back. I'd still crawl into bed with Marcus, ride him until his hairy frame shuddered under me, his thick cock filling me, but Lena was there too, a heat I couldn't ignore. Marcus knew—saw it in my eyes, felt it in how I'd kiss him harder some nights. "You're thinking about her," he'd say, not mad, just sure. I'd nod, and he'd hold me tighter, whispering, "I'm okay with it, babe. Go for it when you're ready."

Last night, I was ready. Lena was in the kitchen, washing dishes, her strong hands sudsy, her ass swaying as she scrubbed. I came up behind her, my full breasts brushing her back, my hands on her hips. "Lena," I said, my voice low, "I want to take this—us—to the next level. Tonight."

She turned, green eyes dark with hunger, water dripping down her forearms. "You sure? Marcus—"

"He's good," I cut in, my pulse racing. "He's always been good with this. I love him, but I want you too. All the way."

She dried her hands, smirking that smirk I'd missed. "Then lead the way, Scarlet."

I took her hand—rough, warm—and pulled her through the house, past the living room where Marcus was sprawled, hairy legs up, watching TV. He glanced at us, his eyes catching mine, then Lena's, and he nodded—just a flicker, but enough. I mouthed, "Love you," and he grinned, soft and sure, before turning back to the screen.

Lena's bedroom was down the hall, her space now—weights in the corner, her scent of sweat and spice in the air. I shut the door, my six-foot frame trembling as I faced her. She stepped closer, towering and gorgeous, her red hair spilling over her shoulders, her big tits straining her tank top. "Been waiting for this," she murmured, her hands finding my waist, pulling me in. My body lit up—curves pressing into her strength, my pussy already wet at the thought of her touch.

"Me too," I breathed, and kissed her, hard and deep, ready to let this fire burn.

I shut the door to Lena's bedroom, my heart pounding in my six-foot frame, adrenaline and lust coursing through me. The room smelled like her—sweat, spice, a hint of leather from the weights stacked in the corner. She stood there, six feet of redheaded fire, her tank top clinging to her big, firm tits, her thick ass taut in those shorts. Her green eyes burned into mine, dark with want, and I couldn't wait another second. I stepped forward, my full breasts bouncing under my thin shirt, my blonde hair falling loose as I grabbed her face and kissed her.

Her lips crashed into mine, hot and hungry, her tongue plunging deep, tasting me like she'd been starving for it. I moaned into her mouth, my hands sliding down to grip her muscular shoulders, feeling the power in them as she pressed her body against me. Her big tits mashed into mine, nipples hard through the fabric, and I could feel the heat of her, the raw need. She growled low in her throat, her calloused hands yanking my shirt up and off, tossing it aside. My breasts spilled free—full, heavy, pink nipples stiff—and her eyes devoured them.

"Fuck, Scarlet," she rasped, her voice thick with lust, "you're still so goddamn perfect." She cupped my tits, thumbs brushing my nipples, sending jolts straight to my core. Then she dipped her head, her red hair tickling my skin, and took one into her mouth. Her lips were wet, hot, sucking hard, her tongue flicking over the tip as I gasped, my fingers tangling in her hair. She bit down lightly, tugging with her teeth, and I arched into her, my pussy throbbing, already soaking my shorts. She switched to the other, sucking greedily, her strong hands kneading my flesh, leaving me trembling and wet.

I couldn't take it—I needed more. I shoved her back, her muscular frame stumbling toward the bed, and ripped her tank top off. Her big tits bounced free—round, firm, with dark nipples begging for my mouth. I pushed her down, straddling her hips, my long legs locking around her as I leaned in and kissed her chest. Her skin was salty with sweat, her breasts heaving as I licked a slow circle around one nipple, then sucked it hard, pulling it between my lips. She moaned, loud and raw, her hands gripping my ass, squeezing the thick curves through my shorts.

"Scarlet—shit, yes," she groaned, her voice breaking as I sucked harder, my tongue swirling, my teeth grazing. Her muscular thighs flexed under me, her body bucking as I moved to the other tit, sucking and biting, lost in the taste of her, the feel of her curves filling my mouth. My hands roamed her toned stomach, her strong arms, every inch of her driving me wilder.

I pulled back, panting, my blonde hair a mess, and yanked her shorts down. Her ass—fuck, that ass—was a masterpiece, thick and firm, flexing as she kicked the fabric away. Her pussy was bare, glistening, and I shed my shorts fast, my own blonde patch slick with need. "I want you," I said, voice husky, climbing back onto her. She grinned, feral, and pulled me down, our naked bodies colliding—her muscular frame against my softer curves, her big tits pressing into mine.

We kissed again, sloppy and desperate, tongues clashing as I shifted, swinging my leg over hers. Our pussies met, wet and hot, and I started grinding—slow at first, then harder, tribbing against her with a rhythm that made us both gasp. Her clit rubbed mine, slick and swollen, and I rocked my hips, my ass bouncing as I fucked her, lust taking over. Her hands gripped my thighs, nails digging in, her muscular legs spreading wider to take me deeper.

"Fuck, Lena," I moaned, my voice shaking, my tits swaying with every thrust. Her red hair fanned across the pillow, her face twisted in pleasure, her big breasts jiggling as she bucked up into me. "Harder," she growled, her hands slapping my ass, urging me on. I obeyed, grinding faster, our wet heat sliding together, the friction building a fire in my core. My clit pulsed, her pussy slick against mine, and I could feel her trembling, her strong body shuddering under me.

"Scarlet—I'm gonna—" she gasped, her voice breaking, and I felt it too, the edge rushing up. I leaned down, sucking her tit again, my tongue lashing her nipple as I tribbed her harder, wild and reckless. She cried out, her muscular frame arching, her pussy clenching as she came, hot and wet against me. The sight—her red hair wild, her big tits bouncing, her ass flexing—sent me over. I screamed her name, my orgasm ripping through me, my thighs shaking, my pussy pulsing as I ground out every last wave against her.

We collapsed, sweaty and breathless, her strong arms pulling me close, our bodies tangled—her muscled curves against my softer ones, her big tits pressed to my chest. "Fucking hell," she panted, kissing me slow, her lips tasting of us. I grinned, my body buzzing, knowing Marcus was down the hall, his blessing making this possible. I loved him to death, but this—this wild, lust-filled fire with Lena—was mine too, and I'd just claimed it.