Chapter 5: Bag boy
It had been Two weeks of hearing Mike pounding his Ex several times a day. Today however, was like music to his ears. Dean had been sipping his coffee early before work when Emily strolled out of her room alone, no Mike in sight.
"Where's your significant other?," Dean had asked sarcastically .
Emily reached for her coffee cup, "Oh I don't know, we're over," she said casualty without a care in the world.
Dean nearly choked on his coffee, "You're what?" he coughed while trying to maintain his composure.
Emily shrugged nonchalantly, "Yep, he was just too much. All that over the top macho bullshit. I mean, really, who calls themselves a 'cumming king'? I just couldn't take it anymore. Besides, it's not like he's the first to go," Emily said, her lips curling into a wicked smile.
Dean's eyes widened in disbelief, "Wait, you broke up with Mike?
As in the Mike who could make you scream like a banshee?"
Emily took a sip of her coffee, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, well, it turns out he wasn't as good as he thought. Plus, he had a nasty habit of leaving his socks on the bedroom floor. Who does that?"
Dean tried to suppress a laugh, but it escaped nonetheless. "Sounds like a deal-breaker to me."
Emily nodded, "Exactly. So, I gave him the boot.
But let me tell you, Dean, I'm not about to stay celibate forever. I've got needs, you know?" Emily said, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she looked at Dean.
Dean coughed, his coffee almost going down the wrong way. "Uh, yeah, I'm aware of your...needs, Emily. Trust me."
Emily laughed, a sound that was both melodic and smug. "So, you'll be happy to know that I've already got my eye on someone new."
Dean's eyebrow shot up, a mix of jealousy and curiosity bubbling inside him.
And who, might I ask, is this lucky gentleman?"
Emily smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, funnily enough, it's someone you know quite well."
Emily's eyes sparkled with wicked amusement as she took another sip of her coffee, clearly enjoying Dean's reaction.
Dean's eyebrows shot up, and he nearly choked on his coffee again. "What? Who? I don't know anyone else in this house besides you and me."
Emily set her coffee cup down and leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Oh, Dean, you're so cute when you're confused. You know that young bag boy from my work, Marcus?" Emily asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Dean's eyebrows shot up even further, and he nearly dropped his coffee mug. "Marcus? The kid who looks like he's still in high school? Emily, are you fucking kidding me?"
Emily chuckled, clearly enjoying Dean's discomfort. "Oh, don't be such a prude, Dean. Age is just a number. And besides, he's got a certain...enthusiasm that's hard to resist. Plus, he's got stamina to rival a marathon runner.
That kid can go all night long," Emily said, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she leaned back in her chair, her coffee cup cradled in her hands.
Dean's jaw dropped, and he stared at her in disbelief. "Emily, are you seriously telling me that you're fucking the bag boy from the grocery store? The same kid who makes me feel ancient just looking at him?"
Emily laughed, a sound that was both amusing and slightly inappropriate given the context. "Oh, Dean, you're such a sourpuss he's 18. I looked at his Id and everything. His papers all are all in order. Pussy stamp approved", she grinned.
Dean shot back, "Em you're 36!"
Well, you should see the things that boy can do with a bag of groceries. And you know what they say, the younger the better if you wanna get wetter," Emily teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Dean shook his head, trying to process what he was hearing. "First off nobody says that and you know, I've always wondered why you insist on shopping at the same store you work, even though it's a trek out of your way. Now I know it's just so you can get your hands on the bag boy."
Emily grinned, not even bothering to deny it. "Well, it's a perk of the job.
And besides, he's really good at handling my...box," Emily said with a wink, unable to keep a straight face.
Dean rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "You know what, Emily? I don't even want to know. I really don't."
Emily laughed, a sound that was both carefree and slightly evil. Don't be such a party pooper. You should try getting some young blood in your system. It's like a fountain of youth, or so I've heard."
Dean raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, I'm sure you know plenty about the fountain of youth," he quipped, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "But I'll pass on the boy toy, thank you very much. I prefer my women with a bit more...seasoning."
Emily snorted, shaking her head. "That's because you're a relic, Dean. You miss out on all the fun. Besides, who says you can't have both? A little seasoning and a little spice? Variety is the spice of life, right?"
Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his coffee.
"Emily, you're always full of surprises. I'll give you that. But I think I'll stick to my usual fare, thank you very much," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Emily rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee. "Suit yourself, old man. But don't come crying to me when you're all dried up and shriveled like a raisin in the sun."
Dean smirked thinking back on the conversation.
Dean shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He had to hand it to her, she certainly knew how to keep things interesting.
He spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon working on a small project he had going on in his workshop, trying to keep his mind off recent events that made him curious, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.
He was just about to start up the saw when his phone rang, making him jump. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Emily's name on the screen.
He hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Hey, Dean. How's it going?" Emily's voice was cheerful, but Dean could detect a hint of something else underneath. Something like...guilt?
"Hey, Emily. It's going. What can I do for you?" Dean asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
"Oh, nothing much. I was just calling to check in and see how you're doing."
Dean raised an eyebrow, knowing that this was unusual behavior for Emily. "Really?
Because you only call me when you need something, like liquids for your next marathon fuck session," Dean replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.
Emily laughed nervously, "Well, okay, that might be true. But I thought maybe we could grab some dinner or something tonight. My treat."
Dean's eyebrow shot up, "Dinner? Like, together? Just you and me?"
"Yeah, I know, I know. It's a crazy concept. But hear me out. I've got a lot on my mind, and I could really use a friend to talk to.
Plus, I owe you an apology," Emily added, her voice softening.
Dean hesitated, surprised by her sincerity. "An apology? For what?"
"For, you know, being an insensitive jerk sometimes. And for making you listen to all that...stuff. I know it can't have been easy on you."
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Emily, you don't have to-"
"No, please, let me. Just...can we go to dinner? Please?"
Dean considered this for a moment.
He was torn between wanting to spend time with Emily, especially given her rare display of vulnerability, and the risk of making things even more complicated between them.
"Alright, Emily. But only because I'm starving, and you seem to have a knack for making things interesting," Dean said, trying to keep his tone light and noncommittal.
"Yay! Great, I'll pick you up at 7.
Make a reservation at that fancy new place downtown......what's it called again?"
Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to recall the name. "The one with the fancy schmancy chef? Uh, 'Escargot & Chianti'?"
Emily laughed, "Close enough. See you at 7, Dean."
Dean hung up the phone, shaking his head in disbelief. He had to admit, Emily was full of surprises. And here he thought she was just calling to mock him about some new conquest. This was...unexpected.
As he started up the saw, he thought back to six years ago. They were young and carefree, exploring each other's bodies with a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a whole lot of laughter. They'd laugh so hard sometimes that they'd have to stop, gasping for breath, only to start giggling all over again. They were inseparable, their love story the stuff of cheesy rom-coms.
But then, life happened. They grew up, they changed. And while they still loved each other, things were different now.
The laughter was still there, but it was tempered with a hint of sadness, a longing for the days when everything was simpler. When they didn't have to worry about jobs, and mortgages, and the fact that their sex life had become her sex life.
Dean shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts from his mind. He didn't want to dwell on the past, on what they'd lost. He just wanted to enjoy the present, to appreciate the fact that Emily was here, in his life, even if it was in this...unconventional way.
As he rounded the corner into the living room, he saw Emily standing there, looking absolutely radiant. She had on a little yellow dress that accentuated her curves in all the right places, and her hair was cascading down her back in soft waves. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine cover.
Dean's jaw dropped, and he let out a low whistle. "Wow, Emily. You look...wow."
Emily grinned, twirling around to give him a full view. "Why, thank you, kind sir.
You don't look so bad yourself," Emily said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she walked over to him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She paused in front of him, her vanilla scent filling his nostrils.
"Well, this is a nice surprise," Dean said, his voice a little rough as he took her in. She looked beautiful, her red hair cascading down her back, her dress hugging her curves in all the right places. He had to remind himself that this was Emily, his ex, not some stranger he was meeting for a date. It was hard to reconcile the image with the woman who had been screwing her way through their little town.
"Don't get used to this. I'm still the same old Emily underneath all this," she said, gesturing to her dress.
Dean smiled, but there was a tension beneath the surface. "I know you are," he said softly. "And that's what I love about you."
Emily's eyes softened at his words, and she took a step closer to him. "I love you too, Dean. Even if we're not...together, I still love you.
Even if we're not...together," Emily said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his.
Emily's shoulders slumped slightly, and she let out a soft sigh, her eyes watering slightly. "I just...I miss us, Dean."
Dean nodded, his heart aching at the sight of her looking so vulnerable and sad. "Me too, Em. Me too. We can't undo the past," Dean said, his voice heavy with regret as he reached out and gently cupped her cheek. "We both know that."
Emily nodded, a single tear spilling over onto her cheek. Dean’s thumb brushed it away, leaving a wet trail on her soft skin. "I know," she whispered. "But it doesn't make the ache any less real."
Dean sighed, his brow furrowing as he looked into her eyes. He wanted to say something profound, something that would make everything better, but he knew there was nothing.
"This might be the best steak I've ever had," Dean said in earnest.
He cut off another piece, chewing thoughtfully before washing it down with a sip of his wine.
Emily smiled, her eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the restaurant. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. I had a feeling you'd appreciate the quality."
Dean nodded, setting his fork down and leaning back in his chair. "So, what's this apology you owe me? You didn't drag me all the way out here just to wine and dine me, did you?"
Emily chuckled, her eyes never leaving his. "No, not exactly. I just...I wanted to talk to you, Dean.
To really talk to you," Emily said, her voice soft and sincere. "I know I've been...difficult lately. And I know that what I've been doing hasn't been easy for you to witness. Or listen to," she added, a hint of guilt in her eyes.
Dean took a sip of his wine, swirling it around in the glass before setting it down. "You don't have to apologize for that, Emily. You're a grown woman, and you have every right to do whatever you want. I just...I wish you didn't feel the need to broadcast it so loudly sometimes.
Emily's eyes softened, and she reached across the table, gently placing her hand on top of his. "I know, Dean. And I'm sorry for that. I never meant to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I just...I guess I was trying to prove something. To myself, to you, I don't know.
But it was wrong of me to drag you into it like that."
Dean looked at their intertwined hands, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of Emily's. "It's okay, Em. I understand. You were hurting, and you lashed out. We both did things we regret. But we're here now, trying to figure it out, right?"
Emily nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Right. So, can we start over? You know, as friends?"
Dean chuckled, looking into her eyes. "Friends?
With you, Emily? You're asking for the impossible," Dean said, although his voice was soft and there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Emily's eyes danced with mischief. "Well, you know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. And since you're both to me, I figured this was a good compromise."
Dean laughed, and the tension between them seemed to ease. "Alright, alright. Friends it is. With benefits, of course."
Emily rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Of course. Now, tell me, what have you been up to lately?
Besides making me jealous with your little grocer bag boy."
Emily's lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, Dean. You're insatiable. It's quite endearing, really."
Dean shrugged, "Hey, I can't help it if you bring up the topic. So, what's the deal with him? You're not...serious about him, are you?"
Emily's smirk faded, and she looked down at her wine glass, swirling the dark liquid around. "No, no, nothing like that. Marcus is just...a distraction.
A fun distraction," Emily added, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his.
Emily's gaze drifted to the window, her voice soft as she spoke. "He's...fun. But he's not you, Dean. No one is."
Dean's laughter faded, his eyes meeting hers. "Emily..." he began, his voice filled with a mix of longing and pain.
"Em, I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to settle for someone who's just...fun. You deserve more than that."
Emily's eyes flashed with annoyance. "And who says I'm settling? Maybe I just want to have fun.
Can't a girl enjoy herself without being judged?" Emily retorted, her voice tinged with annoyance.
"You know what, Dean? I think you're missing the point. You keep telling me what I deserve, what I should want, but you know what? I don't owe you an explanation. I don't owe you anything. You want to know what I want? I want to have fun. I want to live my life without worrying about what people think or what they expect from me. And if that means I want to screw around a little, then so be it. It's my life, not yours, and not Mike's, or Marcus's, or anyone else's. Got it?"
Dean looked at her, his expression softening.
"I do get it, Emily. I really do. And I'm sorry if I made it seem like I was judging you.
Emily's eyes searched his for a moment before she seemed to relax. "Thank you, Dean. I appreciate that. It's just...it's hard sometimes. Everything is so complicated."
Dean reached across the table and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know it is. But we're in this together, aren't we?
We can figure it out if we try."
Emily's eyes welled up again, and she gave him a small, grateful smile. "You're right. We can try. I don't want to lose you, Dean."
"Do you remember the first time you said you loved me?," Emily asked on the ride home.
Dean glanced over at her, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the dashboard lights. "Yeah, I remember. It was right after we'd been out to dinner. We were walking back to the car, and you just stopped in the middle of the street and told me. I was so surprised, I dropped my keys."
Emily laughed, a soft, musical sound. "You were so flustered, it was adorable."
Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Adorable? I was mortified.
Dean's heart ached at the memory. He looked over at Emily, her eyes reflecting the passing streetlights, a soft smile playing on her lips. He reached out and gently took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That was a good night," he said softly.
Emily nodded, her thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. "It was. We were so young, so in love.
Nothing mattered except us. Not the future, not the past, just the present, stretched out like an infinite road ahead of us.
She reached out and ran her finger along his jawline, tracing the stubble there.
Dean's hand slipped up to cup her cheek in return, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as they pulled into the driveway.
"Em Listen, as much as I want to pick you up and carry you to your bedroom right now I'm not going to. You're drunk and I'm not going to take advantage of that," he said looking at her thoughtfully.
Emily looking at him her eyes slightly glossy, "Oh, that's ok sweetie, you'd have to carry me downstairs to your bed unfortunately, might be awkward if you take me to mine." Emily said Sheepishly pointing at something.
"Emily," Dean inquired, "Whose bike is that propped up against our house?."
Thump Thump Thump Thump
"Fuck Marcus!, Fuck!," Emily wailed, "Show me what that fuck stick can do." she cried out underneath Marcus, her tits bouncing with every thrust.
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. He shook his head in disbelief, his cock already hard as a rock as he lay in his bed eyeing the ceiling. "Are you fucking serious right now."
The thumping of the headboard against the wall was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, and Emily's moans were like music, each one sending a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. "Fuck it", he almost yelled, grabbing his dick and jerking it like mad.
Marcus had Emily's legs pushed so far back she wondered if it might be possible to lick her toes. This would have forced Emily's ass off the mattress had it not been for the weight of Marcus's body crashing onto her full tilt.
He was an animal, grunting and snarling with his teeth bared as he pounded at her like a man possessed. The sounds of their bodies slapping together resonated through the room like a drumbeat, reaching a crescendo with each powerful thrust.
Dean listened, his breath coming in ragged pants as he matched the tempo of their fucking with his own hand, his cock throbbing in time with the bed above him. He could picture it so clearly - Emily's tits bouncing wildly, her lips parted in a perfect O shape, her eyes rolled back in her head as she took every inch of Marcus's cock like a champ.
"I'm warning you," Emily moaned, "If you keep fucking me like this in this position my squirt is going to launch you across the room." Marcus grunted, "Fuck yeah, squirt on me, baby. Show me what you've got."
Dean's heart was racing, his cock painfully hard as he listened to them. He could picture Marcus's sweaty body, his muscles tensing with each powerful thrust into Emily. Her pussy making lewd, wet sounds as he pounded into her.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Each thrust sent a shockwave through the house, the walls vibrating with the intensity of their fucking. Dean could hear the sounds of their skin slamming, the animalistic grunts and moans filling the air.
"Oh my mutherfuckin God," Emily screamed as she squirt around the edges of Marcus's huge cock. "Gold star, Gold star," she wailed.
He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he listened to Emily's moans and cries of pleasure.
Suddenly, the bedsprings stopped their rhythmic thumping. Dean paused, listening intently. He heard Marcus grunt, a low, primal noise that sent a shiver down his spine.
Emily's response was muffled, but Dean could hear the pleasure in her voice. "Yes, yes, I fucking love it," she moaned.
"You're such a fucking stud, Marcus.
Dean wondered if they might be done.
They were not done.
Not even close.
Come on, you can do better than that," Emily taunted, her voice laced with both pleasure and challenge. Dean could almost see her fingers gripping the headboard, her back arched as she took every inch of Marcus's cock.
As it turned out Marcus could do better than that.
And he did.
The bed creaked and groaned beneath their weight, the rhythm of their fucking almost torturously steady. Dean's own breathing matched their pace, his hand moving furiously on his hard cock.
His hips moved faster, his cock slamming into Emily with such force that the headboard began to bang against the wall in a frantic rhythm. The sound was like thunder rumbling, a primal beat that echoed through the house.
Dean was both tortured and aroused by the sounds above him. He could feel the vibrations of their fucking through the floorboards as he came long and hard on himself. He imagined Emily's face, her eyes rolled back, her mouth open in ecstasy as Marcus drove into her. He had always thought he fucked Emily well, but he knew it was never like this. Even Mike the douche put him to shame in this category.
Dean, finally satisfied closed his eyes and fell asleep.
As for Emily and Marcus
They did not.