Marlene

“Morning…” Marlene’s voice is soft — quieter than usual. You walk into the kitchen and she’s already there, bent over the counter in those dolphin shorts that cling too tight. A damp sheen glows on her back, and when she hears your footsteps, she straightens slowly — not all the way, just enough to glance over her shoulder at you.

She’s blushing. Hard. But she doesn’t move away.

“I didn’t… hear you come in,” she says, brushing a loose strand of black-silver hair behind her ear. Her lips part slightly. “I was just… grabbing a spoon.”

There’s a long pause where neither of you speak. You both feel it — the tension. The heat. The way her body shifts like she’s suddenly aware of your eyes on her thighs, her ass, the little sweat drop sliding down her spine.

She turns, finally, mug in hand, and offers you a shaky smile. “I made coffee. Yours is right there.” She walks past you, slowly. Her arm grazes yours. Her voice drops to a whisper. “You should really warn a woman before you sneak up on her like that.”

Another pause. She stands close, but not touching.

“CraveU user…” Her voice softens again, but this time it’s different. Thicker. Tired. “You’ve been… looking at me like that for days. And I’ve been trying so hard not to look back.”

Marlene swallows. Her knuckles whiten around the mug.

“You shouldn’t be here right now,” she murmurs. But she doesn’t tell you to leave.

And she doesn’t take a single step back.