by Blaise Quin
Lisa laughed. “Don’t think you can avoid the topic. Come on, I set it up for you with Dwayne. You owe me.”
Emily kicked off her heels. “I already told you.”
“You sent me a text. I want the whole story.”
Emily’s first thought was to make some vague general comment. Yet this was her sister, the woman she’d shared her intimate secrets with. The woman who’d sent her a huge dildo. The woman who’d set her up with another man. “I can’t believe I did it,” she said.
“That makes two of us.” Turning serious, Lisa asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, really.”
“And Justin?”
Emily hesitated. “I think so.”
“Second thoughts?”
“Not that.” How to explain it? “He liked it a lot.”
“Hmm. He wants you to do it again.”
“Maybe. I don’t need to give you details, since you seem to know everything.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger. It’s obviously not been bad for either of you. Sounds just the opposite. What about you? Do you want to do it again?”
“With Dwayne?”
“Why? You have someone else in mind?”
Emily leaned up against the wall, suddenly weak. She had a lot of other men in mind. She tried to change the subject. “We—me and Justin—went out the other night. I pretended I was alone. You can’t believe how many men hit on me.”
“I’d believe it. What happened?”
“Justin swooped in and took me away.”
There was a silence on the line. Then Lisa asked, “Is that what you wanted?”
“That night, yes.”
“And now?”
“We talked about it,” Emily admitted.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure. This all started as a way for Justin and I to have new experiences together. If I went alone, it wouldn’t feel that way.”
“There’s always Dwayne. He’d like another go around.”
“What? You talked to Dwayne?”
“What do you expect? Plus you didn’t give me details, and I had to find out. . .”
“What did he say?” Emily’s knees were shaking, she had to sit down.
Lisa laughed. “Don’t worry, he wasn’t very specific. He just thanked me for the opportunity, and said he’d be more than happy for another. He was rather smitten with you.”
“You mean—”
“Nothing to worry about. In a sexual way. Whatever you two did, he liked it. A lot.”
Emily felt herself beaming, oddly pleased. She’d made a handsome man, a man who likely had plenty of woman, sexually satisfied. Yet another experience that made her feel powerful. “It was so good—I worry that I’d spoil the memory if it didn’t go so well the second time. And I haven’t spoken to Justin about it. About being with Dwayne again, I mean.”
“Well, think about it.”
Funny, that’s what Justin had said. And after she hung up with Lisa, she did.
Which was why when Justin did call, Emily was lying in her bed, naked, having masturbated not once, but twice, the last time with the large black dildo.
She snatched up the phone, guilty. “Hi Justin!” she exclaimed, still a little out of breath.
There was a pause. “Emily, you okay?”
She should have said she had just run in the door, or that she’d been in the shower. But she’d been taught long ago that little lies led to big lies. Besides, Justin would know.
“I was in bed,” she admitted. “You know.”
“Oh.” A quick intake of breath on his end. “Thinking of me?”
She almost lied here. Wouldn’t that be better? Instead she once again told the truth. “Yes.” She paused. “You too, I mean.”
Another pause, but when Justin’s voice came back he sounded relieved. “Was it good for you too?” he joked.
She laughed, his comment taking a burden off her chest. For fantasizing about another man, for doubting herself for trusting Justin. “Very.”
“If you’d have called to warn me, I could have—participated.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“I think it would have been fun. But being surprised is good too.”
The dildo was lying on the bed, wet with her juices. She ran her finger over the slickness. “Is that what you want? To be surprised?”
“You know I like being surprised by you. In a way, it’s what got all this started. It turns me on.”
“I’m not sure it would be the same without you there. And I shouldn’t—with a stranger.”
“I know. I’ve thought about that. Too dangerous. That fantasy we can just talk about, okay?”
“Okay.” Relieved.
“There’s always Dwayne,” said Justin.
The dildo seemed to come alive on the bed. A tease. A promise. “Maybe,” she said.
“It’s not like he’s a total stranger.”
How could a man you’d been intimate with ever be a stranger? “Antonio is coming back to town,” she blurted.
“What? When?”
Somewhat relieved not to be talking about Dwayne, Emily filled Justin in on what little she knew. “I haven’t heard much more than that.”
“Do you—do you want to be with him?”
And suddenly Antonio was there in the room, his scent, his suave presence. The air conditioner hum sounded like an echo of his accent. She covered the dildo with the sheet, as if hiding the presence of another man from Antonio.
“It’s too dangerous—work. People might find out.” What Emily meant was she was sure she’d give something away in the office.
“That didn’t really answer the question.”
“I know.” Emily wasn’t sure what she wanted. She’d been very attracted to Antonio, but it was too great a risk, and not just because of the chance of discovery. She worried that she’d become addicted to sex with other men. “It’s not worth thinking about, because I can’t let it happen.”
“Okay. I understand.”
Again, that eerie silence of Justin’s cell phone. “Justin?”
“I’m here. I was just thinking about—you know.”
She smiled. “I wish I was there.”
“Tell me about your date tonight,” said Justin.
“I didn’t—.” Then she understood. Justin wanted her to pretend. “We were supposed to go to dinner.”
A pause. “Yes?”
Emily pictured Justin in a hotel room, in the chair, watching. No, alone in his hotel room, just like he was now, touching himself while thinking about her on her date.
She could play that game. It was certainly safer than seriously considering being with Antonio.
“But we had a drink in a nice bar at a hotel first.”
“And?”
“He asked me what I wanted to eat.” Emily was making it up as she went along, surprising even herself. “I asked him what was on the menu.”
“I bet he had a good answer to that.”
“He did. He said I could eat whatever I wanted, as long as he got to do the same.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was a very large man.”
“Big? Tall?”
“That too.”
“You found that out in the bar?”
“Kind of by accident. We were in a booth, one of those booths along the wall facing out, where you sit on the same side? I guess I leaned against his leg when I was getting up. Only it wasn’t his leg.”
Justin’s voice, a little quieter. “Then what happened?”
“I got up and went to the ladies room.” She stopped, as if that was the end of the story.
“Emily!”
She smiled. So far she’d just been winging it, no real man in mind. Now the fantasy started to take shape.
Emily moved the sheet aside, uncovering the dildo. Taking it in her hands, spreading her legs again. “Did I mention he was black?”
Fortunately no extra
days were added to my trip. I texted Emily, caught my plane, and actually landed twenty minutes early. I couldn’t wait to get home. The phone sex with Emily had been a blast, in more ways than one, but I wanted to be with her in the flesh.
But when I got home her car was not in the garage, and the house was empty. My first thought was that I was early, or she had to work late.
My second thought was that she was on a date.
All our conversations contributed to my wild idea. I’d told her I liked surprises. Maybe she’d actually gone out on a date.
My hands were shaking as I stood in the kitchen, not sure what to do. Text her? Surely if she had planned a surprise, she would have left me some hint so I wouldn’t worry. I looked on the corkboard where we normally left messages for each other. Nothing. I checked my phone again, and the answering machine. Nada.
I found myself sitting on the couch, a half empty beer in my hand. I hadn’t remembered getting it or drinking it. The condensation ran over my fingers. I took a sip, the beer warm, most likely from my sweaty palm.
She wouldn’t have. Not with a stranger. Who then? Dwayne again? Or had Antonio come to town early?
No, no, no. Not Emily.
Yet as I sat there my mind kept filling in the possibilities, adding, embellishing. Emily back at that hotel bar. Letting one of those men take her, me not there to save the day. Emily with Dwayne, shacked up in some off the beaten path motel. Emily with Antonio, at some fancy restaurant, his hand on her knee under the table.
My cock pressed against my pants. I’d had these fantasies before, but always when I knew where Emily was, or assumed she was at work. I’d pretended, just as she’d made up that story the other night. Now that I thought of it, the story had sounded incredibly realistic. How had Emily made up that story so fast? Had it been a confession, instead of a fantasy?
A black man. . .
Dwayne. It had to be Dwayne. Right?
She’d promised him a blowjob.
Was she right now sucking on his cock?
Would she stop there? Or go the next step, and the next, succumbing to the fantasy it was now clear we both had, of another man coming in her?
I groaned, rubbing myself through my pants. Would she do it? Wouldn’t she want me there?
My cock shook with its own expectation, its own worry. I had to get some relief.
I half stumbled back to the kitchen to get my phone. Still no messages. I just couldn’t sit here jerking off, could I?
I stared at the screen, willing it to send me a sign.
Instead, I heard a car pull up in the driveway.
I fumbled my cock back down along my pants so my erection wouldn’t show, not sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
I lay in the bed, naked. Emily was naked too, but as was her wont she had the sheet partially over her body.
She hadn’t been on a date, just stuck in a little traffic. Nothing had happened.
We’d done the usual chitchat, filling in details about our day. A glass of wine at dinner, steaks.
I hadn’t jumped her as soon as she walked in the door. I don’t know why; I had certainly been looking forward to reconnecting in a way much more intimate than discussing work. And I’d been really aroused as she had arrived. But I had lost the mood. At the back of my mind I wondered if it was because she hadn’t been on a date.
Emily didn’t seem to notice. She was back to her old self, loving the nothing conversation of marriage, just having a meal together.
I’d taken a shower. Emily was already in the bed, wearing just one of my old tee shirts, which on her ran almost to her knees. She’d become much more comfortable with her body in front of me, not hiding under layers of pajamas. And in her own way, signaling she was open to sex. Midweek sex.
I lay next to her, feeling a little out of sorts. She curled toward me, an invitation.
I put my hand on her hip, giving her a kiss, just a warm up. Her lips met mine, ready, almost eager. She squirmed closer, her hand on my thigh.
“It’s so good to have you back,” said Emily, as she kissed me on the cheek.
“Me too.”
I must have been feeling guilty about my earlier fantasy, of her being on a date, that I vowed I’d only think about her. No thoughts about some pretend date. No dirty talk about other men. Just us.
I deepened my kiss, my hand going to her breast, still perfect as far as I was concerned, just a bit larger than what my hand could hold. I cupped one, then the other. I didn’t touch her nipples, but instead moved my hand to her ass, wanting to touch every part of her that I loved. Her slim hips, her belly. I kissed her nose, her eyes.
Emily shifted in the bed, moving the sheet aside, her hand tightening on my thigh. I loved that, just her hand on me, anywhere. I had left the light on in the bath, and it was enough for me to see her, enjoy her beauty.
Normally by this time I’d be stirring, or already rock hard. The novelty of Emily’s newly discovered willingness and proactiveness still excited me. Just her touching me usually got me aroused. But tonight, I was totally flaccid.
Maybe I was more tired than I though.
I pulled Emily half on to me, using my hand to gently guide her head to my neck. She kissed me there, her breast pushing into my chest. I lifted the tee shirt, wanting to feel her skin. Her nipples grazed my abdomen. I scooted her up and took her nipple in my mouth, swirling it in my tongue. The soft fabric of her panties flicked across my cock, a tickling tease.
That got no response at all.
“That feels so good,” she said.
Her words encouraged me, and I moved to the other breast, her nipple firming between my lips. I sucked gently, first just her teat, then widening my mouth to take more of her. Her back arched as she pushed forward.
Emily started to slip her hand down toward my crotch but I shifted on the bed, dropping my fingers between her legs, seeking her through the bottom of her panties. Her pussy was warm, the thin hairs soft. I kneaded her lips.
She stiffened, as she still always did when I first touched her, but these days her discomfort with contact on her pussy lasted only seconds. She half turned, laying back on the bed, opening her legs a little. Letting me rub her.
Which I was happy to do. Tonight I would do anything, just for her.
Her left hand grazed my thigh, reaching for me. I still wasn’t hard, so I slipped down the bed, planting kisses on her belly, her waist, the top of her mound.
“Not that,” she said, not unkindly.
“I thought you liked that now.”
“I do. I just want to—I want you in me.”
She pulled me up, and this time I couldn’t stop her hands from reaching for me. I could almost feel her puzzled expression against my chest as she met my looseness.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m a little tired.” Which sounded ridiculous, it was barely nine o’clock.
“I could wake you up,” she teased, giving me a little squeeze.
She massaged me, taking my shaft between her hands, sliding them back and forth like trying to light a fire with a stick. I closed my eyes, loving the sensation, but it was as if my receptors were not connected to whatever part of my body was supposed to send the signals and the blood, because I remained limp.
“You are tired,” she said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Shh. It doesn’t mean I can’t do something for you.” I spread my fingers, opening her pussy. “Just hold me.”
And she did, her tiny hand easy able to completely engulf my cock, the first time I can remember that ever happening.
I probed her outer lips with a gentle pressure. After a bit she relaxed again, my fingers making circles, avoiding her clit until her wetness came to the surface. Then I moved my hand up, dragging her juices with me.
Her wetness was another stimuli which normally got me rock hard, but still I barely flickered in her hand. I had claimed to be tired, but I was actually wide awake. Why couldn’t I get it up? This beautiful woman h
ad my cock in her hand, and I was making her wet, a sure recipe for arousal.
Uncharacteristically she grabbed my hand, hard. “Inside,” she said urgently, forcing my fingers to her opening.
I did as she demanded, slipping in two fingers, than three. Her hips came off the bed, signaling her desire to be fucked.
I pushed my fingers deep, in and out, but it wasn’t enough, she moaned in frustration, squirming.
“More,” she breathed.
I wasn’t sure if she meant harder or deeper or wider, so I spread my fingers, driving in and out, her wetness covering my hand. She writhed on the bed, redoubling her efforts on my cock. There was no doubt what she wanted.
I hated to see her like this. She so rarely wanted anything specific, so rarely demanded. I felt like I was letting her down.
Desperate, I mentally grasped at what I had been avoiding. I closed my eyes, taking myself out of the equation. It wasn’t me in bed with her, it was another man. It was his fingers in her pussy. Fingers that drove hard into her spread legs. New energy must have rushed through my arm, because at that moment she moaned, this time in excitement. She began jerking her hand, and this time, because in my mind another man certainly would have been hard if he was being fondled by this beautiful, aroused woman, the cock in her hand stiffened. Not my cock, his cock.
She stroked harder in response, and I peeked a look, just her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, her eyelids fluttering. What was she thinking about? Who was she thinking about?
I caught a glimpse of my own arm, and for a moment I faltered, my illusion broken. My cock softened in Emily’s grip.
I closed my eyes again, fighting to get it all back. She wanted a cock in her, the other man wouldn’t hesitate. He’d be on top of her, spreading her legs, no, she’d be spreading them on her own, his cock in her hand, pulling it forward, watching it go in, a big, thick cock.
An unprotected cock.
I stiffened at the thought, Emily’s fingers tightening in approval. I kept my fingers in her as I straddled her, still not opening my eyes to look. I didn’t want to see me.
Emily used the tip of my cock to rub her clit as my fingers fucked her. Not my fingers, it was his cock, inside her now. She whimpered in delirious joy, having that man in her. Her hips rose and fell, meeting his thrusts, her legs wrapping around his waist, knowing he was in her without protection, not caring. Wanting it.