chapter 35

The next week, she went to her usual routine—applying generous coconut oil before heading to the gallery, the tropical scent masking her fishy aroma for the most part. Classes flowed smooth, no complaints, her professional vibe intact. But she saved the real unleash for after, texting Alex to meet her in his office at lunch. Door locked, blinds down, she dropped to her knees between his desk and chair, her skirt hiking up as she unzipped him. "Held it in all morning," she whispered, voice husky. "Now, let my slut out."

She started dominant—pushing his thighs apart, taking his circumcised cock deep right away, sucking with commanding pulls, her tongue lashing the scar like she owned it. "Feel that? My mouth's in charge," she murmured, eyes locked on his, hand pinning his hip. The fishy scent bloomed free now, coconut fading as her arousal mixed with his musk, the room filling with that primal tang. But she flipped submissive mid-stroke, slowing to worshipful licks, letting him guide her head gently. "Use me, baby—I'm your good girl," she hummed, throat relaxing to gag softly on him, her free hand fondling his balls submissively.

The balance thrilled her—dom energy in the control, sub in the surrender—building until he groaned, flooding her mouth with hot, fishy cum. She swallowed greedily, ending on that submissive note, pulling back with a soft "Thank you" and a lingering kiss to his tip. Alex pulled her up for a deep embrace, both buzzing. "Perfect slut," he whispered. She straightened her skirt, coconut oil reapplied quick, heading back to class composed—but inside, fully unleashed.

.

Emily walked into her part time art class that Tuesday, the coconut oil's tropical whisper masking her natural scent for the week, but she knew the pattern by heart now—one week fresh and subtle, the next unleashing her full fishy aroma. Over the past month, the initial student gripes had flipped; what started as whispers of "weird smell" turned to curious glances, then outright compliments. A girl in the front row even said last fishy week, "Miss E, whatever that is, it's kinda empowering—like you own the room." The guys nodded along, some blushing, the vibe shifting from displeasure to intrigue. Emily thrived on it, her proud feminine queen goddess comeslut nature shining through. She craved cock 24/7, that constant hum of desire making her feel alive, unapologetic, a woman who balanced poise with primal hunger. Alternating the scents kept things exciting—coconut for focus, fishy for that raw, slutty edge that had her thighs pressing together during lectures.

By the end of the day, as the last bell rang, Emily texted Alex: "Office. Now." She slipped in, locking the door behind her, her skirt riding up as she pushed him into his chair. "Mixing it up today—femdom first, then sub, ending soft for me." Her voice held that commanding purr, eyes dark with need. She dropped to her knees dominant, unzipping him rough, taking his circumcised cock deep without preamble—sucking hard, tongue lashing the scar like she owned it, hand pinning his thigh. "Mine," she growled between pulls, her fishy scent blooming free now, the week's mask slipping as arousal hit.

Alex groaned, gripping the desk, but she flipped submissive quick, slowing to worshipful bobs, letting him guide her head gently. "Your good girl," she hummed, throat relaxing to gag softly, eyes pleading up at him. He came fast, hot spurts filling her mouth—rank and fishy, her favorite. On that submissive note, she pulled back, letting it pool on her tongue before spitting it out messily onto his thigh, a dribble escaping her lips. "Kinky today—felt like teasing," she whispered breathlessly, wiping her chin with a finger. "Promise to savor a good swallow later. All yours."

Before standing, she marked him—starting with a hickey on his neck, sucking hard enough to bloom purple, then trailing kisses down his chest, abs, to his cock. Another on the base of his shaft, right by the scar, her teeth grazing just enough. "Showing the world we belong to each other," she said, admiring the trail of possession. "My queen's brand."

They couldn't stop there; the heat reignited. Emily straddled him in the chair, another happy blowjob unfolding—femdom in her controlling the pace with twists and deep sucks, sub in her yielding to his hands in her hair. She balanced it beautifully, craving his cock like always, ending with a full swallow as he pulsed down her throat, the fishy load sliding warm and satisfying. "Perfect," she sighed, kissing him deep, their scents mingling in the office air. They left hand in hand, her goddess nature glowing, having a great time together.