Too Sweet

PheroMoans

Chapter 6

TOO SWEET

Morning

Friday

A sharp knock rattled the door, reverberating with a sense of urgency through the room. Another knock followed--louder, harder--insistent enough to pry Mark from the depths of sleep. He blinked, disoriented, the ceiling above him unfamiliar in the faint morning light. But then he became acutely aware of the warmth and weight of the woman lying across his chest, her steady breathing beginning to quicken as she stirred.

"Mom! Mom, are you alive in there?" The voice from the other side of the door was young, impatient, almost demanding--another knock and a louder one.

The woman blinked awake, her body stiffening as she registered the sound. She let out a groggy groan, propping herself up on her elbow. Her expression shifted from drowsiness to a sudden awareness that matched his own. Her gaze darted to him, a momentary flash of guilt or worry crossing her face before she gave a hurried nod.

"I'm awake!" she called through the door, her voice hushed but with an unmistakable undertone of urgency. "What's wrong, honey?"

The boy's voice came through muffled. "We're leaving for school--me and Matt. Just wanted to say bye."

Mark's heartbeat steadied slightly, and the reality of the situation settled over him as she fumbled out of bed, tugging the comforter around her shoulders. She pressed a finger to her lips to ensure Mark kept quiet. He watched as she padded softly across the room, the door's lock clicking open as she cracked it just enough to peer out at her son.

"Hey, kid," she whispered, a hint of relief coloring her tone.

"Mother," Aaron says.

"Nice hoodie you got there."

"Dad brought it."

"Okay, it's an ugly hoodie."

"Aaron, come on!" Matt screams.

Through the narrow opening, Aaron's eyes flickered curiously toward the dim room behind her. "Alright. See you later, Mom."

"Love you, Honey." She closed the door softly, letting out a long, slow exhale as she turned back toward the bed, meeting his gaze in the quiet that followed. The morning had begun with a jolt, but he sensed, beneath the initial shock, that this was just the beginning of a very long day.

"Well, I guess this is an awkward morning after sex?" Autumn says, peeking her head out of her bedroom door and going to the closed front door of her apartment. "They're gone." The thick cotton comforter dropped to the floor; Mark grinned at the sight of her exposed body.

"Nice," Mark says, his joints popping as he stretches his arm.

"They're gone," Autumn says, leaving the room. She looks back at the approaching Mark. "You hungry?"

Mark's eyes scanned her up and down. "I can eat." Autumn smiles, her eyes lighting up from the attention.

"Food. I'm talking about food." Autumn smirks.

"Define food." Mark wraps his arms around her waist, connecting his lips to her neck.

"Down, boy," Autumn says, wrapping her hand around his head. As the kiss stops, she holds her gaze at him.

"You okay," Mark says slowly, almost reluctantly. She looks away, and the faint glisten in her eyes betrays the truth.

"Yeah, just thinking. So, what do you want for breakfast?" Autumn leads him into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. She bends over, not leaving much to the imagination for Mark's view as she searches.

"I feel like you're teasing me," Mark says, slapping her ass; Autumn takes it in stride as his handprint etched on her ass.

"Maybe. What time do you need to be at Lennox for your bratty friend again?"

"1000, it's currently 0730, so we got time."

"Do you like scramble bowls?"

"It's been a while since I had a scramble bowl."

"Great, sit in the living room, maybe put on some music. Helps me cook."

"Let me guess, country, right," Mark grabs the remote and scrolls to the country music channel.

"Wow. How racist of you to assume I listen to country music." Autumn says, rushing over to grab the remote and almost tripping over a small stepping stool.

"Careful," Mark says as she grabs the remote from his hand. She clicks a couple of channels over to the Metal station.

"Better, my ex was a country guy, which is one of the many reasons he had to go besides the cheating, eh." She says as the remote jettisons from her hand into his chest.

"Did he ever get physical with you?" Mark raises his eyebrows at his question as she turns around and walks back toward the kitchen.

"yeah," she says almost in a whisper. "I'm not going to tell my boys that, though, they love the asshole." Autumn cracks open some eggs into a pan.

"Well, that's nice of you, but shouldn't they know? I know if I were them, I would want to know."

"That's future Autumn's problem. Besides, he is living in hell paying that child support."

"If you say so," Mark says, sneaking up behind her...

"I thought I told you to go in the living room. I can't concentrate with you behind me like that."

"You want some help."

"Oh, you can cook?" She turns her head into another kiss.

"I'm a world-star Michelin Chef."

"A world-star chef working at Everyday Earth makes sense to me." Autumn let out an unexpected laugh, the sound bright and high-pitched as his fingers found that sensitive spot on her sides. "Stop, I'm going to burn myself."

"I'll kiss it. Let me make the grits."

"Fine, but don't disappoint me. Also, how do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side up, I'm feeling froggy."

"Well, leap over to the cabinet to get the grits."

The kitchen filled with the soft clinks of dishes as the early morning hummed quietly. Mark stood by the stove, stirring a pot of creamy grits. His movements were unhurried. He added a sprinkle of salt and a generous pat of butter, watching as they melted into the bubbling mixture.

Beside him, she cracked another egg into the skillet. She glanced over at him, grinning as he stole a peek at her work with an approving nod.

They moved comfortably around each other, picking up where the other left off without a word. Mark leaned over Autumn's shoulder to grab a spoon, giving her a playful nudge as he checked the grits. She laughed, nudging him back, then turned her attention to slicing sausage links, adding them to the skillet. The smell of savory spices soon mingled with the eggs and grits, filling the air with a warm, mouthwatering aroma.

He gave the grits one last stir, the texture now thick and smooth, and set the pot on the counter, reaching for two bowls. She quickly layered in the fluffy scrambled eggs, adding bits of golden-brown sausage as he spooned a hearty helping of grits. They added a sprinkle of cheese, which brought the dish together.

With a satisfied sigh, they admired their work, a simple but delicious breakfast bowl perfectly blending their efforts. Autumn grabbed two spoons and handed Mark one as they leaned against the counter, sharing bites and laughing softly. They savored both the meal and the cozy, unhurried rhythm of the morning.

"Damn, you did these grits up," Autumn says, pointing her spoon at Mark.

"Thank you, Thank you." Mark gives a playful bowl. "I used to watch the Food Network religiously with my mom."

"Ah, a mama's boy explains a lot."

"Shut up; like I was saying, I practiced recipes alone during summer break. My friend Emma was my guinea pig.

"Lucky her."

"You should have seen me the first time my dad and Mom had me cook; I was in tears."

"Ahh." Autumn chuckles. "Poor baby."

"God, I was such a little bitch then."

"Well, that changed the mood." Autumn tilts her head. "A little harsh on yourself; there is nothing wrong with being sensitive. I make sure I let my boys know that."

"Sure, If you say so."

"I do, Mark Morgan, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on."

"I just figured that was part of the reason I was walked over most of my life, why I was a virgin."

"Well, you're not a virgin, and I don't think anyone walks over you anymore." Autumn places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not joking when I say if we met in a different lifetime, I would probably be head over heels for you." Her hands rested on his chest. "Probably why I'm jealous of that girl. She reminds me of me."

"Rosa?"

"Yeah, I was pompous and full of myself back then, too. I had every guy in the palm of my hand, but then I got pregnant, and everything changed." Her hands fell to her sides. "Now I'm old, a single mother, and..."

"Hey," Mark says, lifting her sunken chin with his right hand. You're beautiful and an awesome mom." A faint smile forms on her face.

"Thank you, sexual chocolate," she laughs. "Alright, I'm going to clean up; the last thing I need is to leave a mess, and Matt starts jawing off about double standards.

"Let me help."

"No, you're my guess."

"I get that, but."

"Stop. I got it..." She says, grabbing his left hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit down."

Autumn returns to the kitchen; the sink turns on as dishes are arranged to be cleaned. Mark watches her naked body move around the kitchen. The soft clinking of dishes and running water filled the kitchen as she rinsed plates, her focus on the task at hand. Behind her, he lingered on the couch, watching her with a small, knowing smile that hinted at something more. The playful gleam in his eyes seemed to shift, his posture growing more self-assured as he stepped forward, his footsteps barely audible over the sounds of the running water.

He moved up behind her slowly, the soft creak of the floorboards giving her a split-second warning before his hands found her waist. His touch was both gentle and unmistakably assertive. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrows slightly surprised, but he just smiled. His hands slid around her hips, anchoring her in place with quiet, unspoken confidence.

A low hum of approval escaped him as he leaned in, his breath warm against her neck. "I can't help myself," he murmured, voice smooth with mischief, "but I thought I'd remind you just how good you look in the kitchen."

She laughed softly, her hand still hovering over the sink, but her attention was now entirely on him. The clinking of dishes faded into the background as he leaned closer, one hand slipping to her shoulder, his thumb brushing a slow circle along her collarbone. The rhythmic, steady water drip into the sink marked the pause between them, a heartbeat of anticipation thickening the air.

Autumn spread her legs and lifted her heels off the floor as she pressed lightly against the counter. His gaze held hers, steady and intent, a flicker of challenge and invitation in his eyes. His erect member pressing against her entrance, Mark spits on his hands, glazes his dick.

"Please, Fuck me." Autumn noticed a shift in his eyes after the words left her mouth. He enters, and she grips the counter and skips a breath. The loud slap of his thigh and her ass colliding, a toothy moan as he moves back and forth into her. She knew she was at his mercy and wouldn't have it any other way. His grip around her waist grew tighter with each thrust. She is no longer able to contain her moans as each thrust reaches deeper into her guts.

A swift slap to the side of Autumn's ass catches her off guard. It was harder than the playful one earlier, this one more primal, urgent." Take this dick." Mark says confidently. Autumn looks back at him, unsure who this person is anymore. "Let it out, aint no one hears but us." Mark urges her. "Tell me you want it."

Autumn begins to squirm as her eyes close, and she grits her teeth. "Speak," Mark barks at her with another hard slap that echoes throughout the room. Autumn's knees begin to meet, and she turns to look at Mark with fury. Fluid drips down from her vagina onto the floor as her legs twitch.

"You mad?" Mark smiles at her. "Don't get mad at me 'cause you're leaking all over the kitchen; you feed your kids." He grabs the back of her head as she surrenders to his thrust and falls to her knees as her legs give out.

Autumn looks up at him, out of breath, as his dick meets her lips. She opens her mouth as Mark pushes his dick into it. She keeps eye contact, a mixture of lust and anger in her eyes. As he groans, his sperm shoots into her mouth, coating the back of her throat. She lets out a cough and collects herself briefly on the floor. Mark let out a sigh, his head still hung in the air.

The initial rush--the confidence, sense of control, and power he felt at that moment -- was still pulsating through him. Still, as the adrenaline began to ebb away, a heavy silence followed. His chest, once tight with exhilaration, now felt hollow. His confident stance began to soften, his posture shifting slightly as if the weight of his actions had suddenly become too much to carry.

Autumn glanced over, her heart still racing. Her mind was caught between exhilaration and the tiniest twinge of something unnamable--a whisper of concern, perhaps, or a flicker of awareness that things had shifted.

Autumn slowly gets up from the floor, her eyes briefly evading his, but then she shakes it off. "You can clean yourself off in the bathroom. I got this in here."

"Right." Mark walks to the bathroom in the hallway. A slight panic overcomes him at his action, and he begins to bite his nails, his hands still coated with the wetness from her vagina. The smell crawled into his nose, returning him to the moment a few minutes ago. A slight smile formed on his face, but it quickly faded to guilt.

The car hummed as they merged onto the open road, the soft whirr of tires on asphalt filling the silence between them. She kept her gaze steady on the stretch ahead, one hand loosely gripping the wheel, her other resting on the console.

Beside her, he leaned against the window, watching the scenery blur past with an unreadable expression. Neither of them had spoken since they'd buckled in, and the unspoken words hung between them like static, crackling beneath the surface of the quiet.

Her fingers occasionally tapped gently against the steering wheel, a small gesture of thoughtfulness or maybe nerves. Mark glanced over once, catching her focused profile in the light streaming through the windshield. Then, he returned his gaze to the passing landscape, letting the silence settle again.

Mark breathes air out and begins to speak. "I'm sorry, Autumn." She raises her hand and cuts him off.

"Remember what I said about apologizing so much," Autumn says, her eyes still fixed on the road.

"Yeah, I get that, but this is different. I got carried away." Mark looks at his palm.

"Mark, you just fucked the ever-loving shit out of me. Like I was some slut in a porno."

"I."

"No, then you mentioned my kids while we were..."

"I fucked up and got carried away."

"Who are you?" Autumn says, turning to him as the car stops at a red light. "When I looked back at you, it was like you were different."

"I'm still me; I'm just evolving, I guess."

"Evolving, what are you a Pokémon and into what?"

"I don't know, okay. I just know I'm getting more and more confident in myself."

"That's good, but." Autumn closes her eyes, contemplating her thoughts. "Maybe that was too much, too visceral like you don't. That's not. Maybe we should stop."

"What?"

"I was thinking about this earlier when Aaron woke us up."

"You know what.Okay." Mark says

"O...Okay," Autumn repeats.

"You're right. I would be selfish if I tried to fight the; I don't want to hurt you, and maybe I already have. Autumn, I care about you and don't want to ruin our relationship."

"Our relationship? "

"Yeah, I don't know how to define it, but I just know I want you to feel safe; I want you to be loved; I care about you."

"This is the Mark I like... the other one wasn't bad earlier. It just caught me off guard. And don't mention my kids like that again." She sighs. "I know your going through a lot."

"I'm fine."

"Are you. don't.. just be careful and don't forget who you are Mark?"

"Do you hate me?" Mark says his eyes squinting slightly.

"I could never hate you after everything you've done for me." Autumn smiles at him. "It's just all of this is because a little to real for me at least."

"This is real isn't it."

"Mark I don't think your ready for that."

"Well were here. I guess I will see you at work then," Autumn says before pulling him into a deep hug over the middle console. She looks at him, both tempted to kiss, but their minds know better.

As he stepped away from the car, she watched him with a quiet intensity, her gaze lingering on his retreating form. The faint glow of the streetlights softened the edges of his silhouette, giving him a certain warmth that made her chest tighten.

Her fingers rested lightly on the steering wheel, gripping it tighter than she realized as if grounding herself against the pull to call him back. Her lips parted, a whisper of his name hovering there, but she stopped, letting the moment between them in silence.

He glanced back once, just a quick flicker of his eyes over his shoulder, and in that split second, she felt an ache that was both familiar and unspoken. She offered a small, wistful smile, a silent acknowledgment of everything left unsaid, and he nodded as though he'd heard her thoughts.

As he walked on, her eyes traced his steps, holding on to every detail: the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he shoved his hands into his pockets, the steady pace that carried him further away. She swallowed, a bittersweet feeling settling in her chest, as she finally released her grip on the wheel, her hand falling limply to her lap.

For a moment longer, she sat there, her gaze fixed on where he had disappeared into the shadows, her heart caught in a quiet longing that lingered even as the world moved around her.

Mark stepped through the mall's sliding glass doors, the hum of people and the faint scent of fresh coffee drifting through the air to greet him. The polished floors reflected the overhead lights, and he navigated the crowd with practiced ease. His pace was steady and purposeful as he scanned the signs above each store.

Passing by a cluster of families and a few teens lingering by the fountain, he barely glanced at the storefronts, his gaze fixed ahead. His destination was just ahead, between a clothing store with loud pop music blaring and a perfume shop spilling floral scent waves into the air.

He weaved through the bustling crowd of shoppers, finally spotting the familiar sign of his destination. With a quick breath, he straightened his shoulders. He strode forward, pushing open the glass door and stepping inside, ready for whatever awaited him. Although he looked focused, his mind was racing from his past actions.

{Evolving? What the fuck am I talking about? She's not wrong. This change is the second time I noticed something happening, with Bonita and Smoke and then in the kitchen. I practically raped her. What the hell is wrong with me.?I feel like I want to throw up. It's Autumn Jesus; how can I ever face her again? Wait. What if Emma felt the same way? Oh my God, that's it.}

Dark thoughts take hold of his mind as his eyes wander around with each step forward until a familiar voice snaps him out of them.

"Mark Morgan!" Rosa approaches with her usual disappointed gaze. "Where the hell have you been? Your roommate said you weren't home last night?"

"Oh yeah, I was out at a friend?"

"You only have three friends, Mark."

"Wait, are you counting?" The math brings a smile to his face, much to her chagrin. "Are you ready for this interview, Rosy?"

"Don't call me that; of course, I'm ready." He watched as she adjusted her blazer, her fingers nervously smoothing down the fabric, and for a moment, he was taken aback. The usual playful spark in her eyes was softened, replaced with focused determination and quiet confidence. The tailored jacket hugged her shoulders perfectly, and the blouse beneath added an understated elegance that made her seem... different. More polished, more serious.