The Secret Lives of Emma: Distractions

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The Secret Lives of Emma: Distractions Page 10

by Walker, Natasha


  ‘She is that, and more,’ said Emma, closing her legs. David parted them forcefully again.

  ‘Emma!’ said Sally. ‘Take that back!’

  ‘Never!’ she replied.

  ‘I’m not a tart,’ said Sally, touching David on the arse though. Emma couldn’t see what she had done.

  ‘No!’ said David, turning again. ‘No, you’re not a tart.’

  Sally thanked him by putting her hand between his legs and rubbing his balls. David turned back to Emma, who had missed all this.

  ‘Take your undies off,’ he said, quietly. Sally was stroking his shaft through his shorts.

  ‘Emma’s not a tart either,’ said Sally. She could picture his cock more realistically now. Through his board shorts and by touch alone he felt enormous. She could feel how hard she was making him. It felt so good to her. David was weakening. He’d love to have kissed Emma’s mouth now. He kissed Emma’s naked inner thigh. He thought of Sally sucking him. Kissing Emma passionately while Sally’s beautiful face sucked him.

  ‘I’m no tart!’ said Emma, misunderstanding what Sally had said. The room was spinning around. She tried to bring David up onto her, but the least bit of effort was too much. Her hands merely caressed his forearms. Thankfully her brain imagined him onto her. Then her brain imagined him fucking her. Good brain. Drunk brain. She’d be all overwhelmed in her drunken state, he’d be a monster on her.

  Then she remembered Sally. She tried to get up.

  David closed his legs on Sally’s hand and moved backwards towards her, lifting Emma upright as he did so. Sally quickly removed her hand. She had him, she believed. She was very excited now, knowing he’d be having her soon. Emma would pass out as Mark had done and they could fuck right next to her dreaming body.

  Sally barely shifted and David sat more on her than next to her. Emma was watching now. David was very conscious of his hard-on. He felt exposed because of the way it strained against his pants. He hoped each woman would believe she was the inspiration.

  Emma had intended to jump up, but merely fell forward. She stopped herself with out-stretched hands, palms down on the coffee table. David saved the full glass of wine from tumbling over and managed to get hold of the bottle of wine too. Emma sat back down laughing and apologising to all and sundry.

  ‘I’ll be good. I won’t say a word. You two can do what you like. I don’t care. I’ll watch.’

  ‘Emma! What are you talking about?’ asked David. He leant across and recovered the pages from the ground. ‘Shall I read it?’ He’d decided then that a story might be better than drunken jealousy.

  Emma nodded.

  ‘She has such neat handwriting. Look, Sally,’ said David.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ said Sally, ‘I know, I know. Everyone always said so as we were growing up.’

  ‘Shall I read it?’ he asked Sally. She nodded.

  ‘Do I have to sit by myself?’ Emma asked.

  Yes, thought Sally. You can fall asleep stretched out like Mark did. Perfect.

  ‘No, come here,’ said David, offering his hand. She took it and came to sit on his lap, with her back to Sally. David lifted her in his arms and turned her around. Her feet landing in Sally’s lap. Emma sat like a tired child, her head resting against his chest. There was nothing childlike about her hand as it went to investigate the lump in David’s shorts.

  ‘Oh my!’ she said. ‘You’re as hard as a rock! I thought I fixed that?’

  Now Emma started to rub his cock through his board shorts.

  Sally was fuming. Though the whole of one side of her body was in contact with David’s, Emma’s feet were in her lap and Emma, not Sally, was in David’s!

  Sally was sorely tempted to break her resolve and share David with Emma, which was clearly the direction Capitano Emma saw the evening going. But Sally didn’t want to fuck David ‘by anyone’s leave’. Least of all by Emma’s leave. She could feel the pressure on her, a familiar pressure, one she had experienced and welcomed so many times as a youth, but now, as a woman, she resented it. She wanted, if it had to be admitted, to steal David. Yes. From Emma. From her friend. Having thought of it in these terms, she relaxed somewhat.

  ‘I don’t think Sally wants to hear such things,’ said David, happy to have his cock rubbed by his wife, which was far less complicated. But he would prefer she refrained from doing it in front of Sally. He liked fucking Emma when she was drunk, which wasn’t often, because she made such a racket and she was ‘such a greedy bitch’. Her cock sucking was messier, her attention span was shortened. She’d ride him lustily for a bit. Jump off. Grin. Suck him hungrily, while rubbing her wetness against his leg. Then she’d get on her knees – waggle her arse in his face. She’d insist on being fucked. She was demanding and yet all over the place. It was fun sex. Stupid sex. Though often, in the long run, it wasn’t as satisfying as sober sex, which was Emma’s forte.

  But under David’s normal wife-lust lurked a foreign lust. The beauty of Emma’s friend had been capturing him stealthily since the moment he arrived at the beach house. Sally revealed herself to David in stages. Beautiful and hospitable, affable and fun, impulsive and daring, wicked and erotic, determined and hungry. David had seen the game she had been playing with Emma. He’d noted her resistence to revealing her desire for him in front of Emma. The deceitful nature of this behaviour was causing him much excitement. He was determined to resist her, but slowly, enjoying the game as much as he could without making that final crossing.

  Emma closed her eyes. Her head was heavy against David’s chest. Her hand was slowly stroking his cock. But this was tapering off.

  ‘Read my story, darling,’ she said, softly, her eyes still shut.

  Sally was excited by Emma’s evident collapse.

  EIGHTEEN

  ‘The Teacher by Emma Benson,’ read David, in his softly spoken reading voice, so unlike his natural tone. ‘Sally’s in it,’ he said, having read the first line.

  ‘I said so.’

  ‘She told us earlier,’ said Sally, impatiently.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t hear,’ said David. ‘Here goes then. Wait. It says you’re eighteen.’

  ‘Does it?’

  ‘It’s a story. I made it up. I just named the girl after you, Sal … Because I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too,’ said Sally, but thought to herself, if you loved me you’d fall asleep.

  David had read on a little, silently.

  He wanted to put his arm around Sally but then he wouldn’t be able to read the story.

  Sally wondered why he hadn’t.

  ‘Here goes, again.’

  ‘Again,’ both Emma and Sally said, in unison.

  I have befriended Sally, who is eighteen, over the last couple of days. Sally and I had been talking all afternoon about you and we had discovered many things. For instance, she knows more about your recent sexual past than I do! She revealed to me she had had a crush on you for a year. She watched your flat from her room, she saw who came and who went. In the three months I have lived here with you her discontent bubbled silently. She told me that when she realised I was here to stay she hated me so much she would spit in my direction every time she thought of me.

  We laughed so hard together, tears were in our eyes. We talked a lot about you and then she asked me about sex. I answered circumspectly at first, but then I couldn’t help but tell her everything I could. I spoke of you. I wanted to see the lust emerge in her eyes, to see the jealousy, but the vixen was calm and listened with studious attention. I realised that it wasn’t only you that interested her. She was interested in the actualities of sex. She wanted to know the details so that she might enjoy it herself. Her mother, she said, was terrified of the subject of sex.

  I was attracted to her, I must admit. And our little talk was turning me on.

  When I got up to light some candles, it was becoming dark, I thought I might play with her a little. I asked her what she thought of me now that I wasn’t a bitch from hell. She blushed and said I
was very nice. Much nicer than she had thought possible. We laughed. I offered her a wine. I really felt terrible all of a sudden. I knew this sort of thing happened to young girls but normally it wasn’t at the hands of another woman. She was so fresh and innocent. I wanted her to know about everything. I wanted to kiss her but I knew it would scare her.

  So I described what giving head was like. How a cock felt as it entered me. What being fucked in the arse was like—

  ‘Jesus, Emma! That’s a bit much!’ said David, startling Emma, who had been lulled by the melodic sound of his voice. She opened her eyes and raised them to look at Sally, too tired to lift her head to look at David.

  Sally, noticing she was being observed, smiled at Emma.

  ‘No it isn’t,’ said Sally immediately. ‘Keep reading.’

  ‘What’s too much?’ asked Emma, softly.

  ‘She wasn’t even listening,’ said David. ‘Shall I take you up to bed, baby?’

  Emma gently rocked her head from side to side.

  ‘Keep reading,’ repeated Sally. ‘She’s only resting her eyes. I want to hear what happens.’

  David looked across at Sally. Her eyes were clearly plaintive.

  ‘All right, a bit more. Then it’s off to bed,’ he said paternally. He readied himself to read on.

  I asked her if she masturbated.

  ‘Emma! It’s so unrealistic!’ said David. ‘What woman would behave so irresponsibly with someone so young?’

  ‘Just read the story, David. It’s just a bit of fiction. It’s meant to turn you on,’ mumbled Emma.

  ‘But …?’ he stammered. He had reservations about sharing this kind of thing with Sally.

  ‘Just read,’ said Sally, again.

  She said she did. I told her I was a chronic masturbator when I was her age and that I had had a crush on a neighbour too. I told her I was very excited. She told me she was. I told her I was wet just thinking about you. She looked at me, a shade of anger in her eyes. I told her I was going to fuck you when you came through the door. She said that that was unfair. I told her, I know it is, and I hugged her.

  But, I asked, I can’t not fuck him, can I, after all we’ve said?

  I told her I was so horny. I don’t like that word, it is crude, but really what word describes the feeling as well as horny? She said she was too. I asked her if she had ever masturbated with anybody. She couldn’t speak, she shook her head. I asked if she would with me. She was silent. I thought I had blown it.

  She took a sip of the wine. She looked away.

  When is he coming home? she asked.

  I don’t know, I said, he might catch us in the act. How would you feel about that?

  I’d die, she said.

  But, I said, he often tells me how much he’d like to fuck you.

  She went white, as though the pleasure of this knowledge was unbearable for her. Then she looked at me and coloured. She felt caught between two emotions.

  I wouldn’t mind if you fucked him, I said. I’d like it.

  She said, How could you? If he was mine I would never let him fuck anybody else.

  Each to her own, I replied. I smiled.

  Would you fuck him though? I asked.

  ‘Emma!’ said Sally, feeling exposed by Emma’s words.

  ‘Do you want me to stop?’ asked David, unwillingly. ‘You’ve offended Sally, Emma.’

  Emma opened her eyes again. She now wished Sally might make some move on David. How nice to have two sets of hands on her body and two mouths.

  ‘I haven’t, have I?’ she asked. Emma hadn’t been listening too closely to her story.

  ‘No, but are you certain it’s fiction? What does she get up to when you’re not around, David?’ Sally asked.

  ‘You’d know more than I would, I’m just the husband.’

  Emma held Sally’s cheek in her palm and leant in to kiss her, but Sally pulled away.

  ‘Not much, then,’ said Emma, as she snuggled back into David’s lap, making sure to rearrange matters so that his rigid cock pressed against her in a more arousing manner. She didn’t care that Sally wouldn’t kiss her. She knew why. Sally was blushing and David eyed her with great interest. ‘Read on, darling. Do you like it?’

  He nodded.

  She turned and kissed me strangely – fast and hard – her soft lips had seemed to vanish. I slowed her down and brushed her lips with mine. There were those luscious lips! My hand made its way from her breast and under her skirt. I found her panties moist and moved them aside. My fingers sank into her and her mouth pushed so hard against mine. I was forgetting myself.

  I want him to come home now, she said.

  I kissed her hard. Like she had done. I felt like such a boy. I fingered her like I had been fingered years ago. Then I stopped and began to massage her as I massaged myself. I was so wet. I wanted to be caressed, to be kissed. Sally surprised me by coming. I hadn’t expected it so soon.

  Emma managed to get her hand under herself and open David’s pants. He made no move, nor did he miss a word of the story.

  God! I needed satisfaction. I prayed for you to come through the door but you didn’t and I helped Sally sit up and hugged her. She was evidently not thinking of reciprocating and I didn’t think it fair to push my virgin friend into something she obviously didn’t fancy.

  After a while she reached for her top and put back what I had taken, except for one thing that she could never have back.

  Stay for dinner, I said. Put the TV on, I’ll fix something.

  I can’t, she said.

  Yes you can, I replied.

  I stood up and casually walked to my bedroom and lay on the bed out of sight. I lay there and let my hand ease its way down. I demand satisfaction, I thought.

  When I came out again I was so surprised to see you sitting in the lounge room with Sally. I almost fell over. When the hell did you get home? I hadn’t heard a thing. I stood in the doorway and you greeted me. You stood up and kissed me and passed on into the kitchen. I watched you pass, trembling.

  All this time Emma had been squeezing David’s cock. Sally had begun rubbing the soles of Emma’s feet lightly. Sally was listening intently, staring at Emma’s toes. Emma slowly inched her sarong up, trying not to attract Sally’s attention, which was difficult.

  I felt scared. I hadn’t cheated on you before. I realised then that I had done so just moments ago. I wondered if you ever believed me when I talked about my desire for women. I wondered if you might disapprove. I knew then that we still didn’t know each other very well.

  You saw me looking pensive.

  You asked, what’s up?

  I told you nothing was up. I opened a beer for you and informed you Sally was staying for dinner. You raised your eyebrows at me and wandered in to sit with her. I leant against the counter and picked up the phone and ordered some Thai. I couldn’t even think about making dinner. I wanted so badly to have you fuck me and her but didn’t know how to approach it.

  I went back into the lounge room and sat next to Sally. She leant against me and I saw a slight query in your smiling eyes. You drank down some beer and announced that you would take a shower. We both sat and watched you leave the room. We sat uneasily for a few minutes.

  I moved my hand along her leg in a non-sexual manner and we both found ourselves tongue-tied.

  Then you yelled out, from the bathroom, Honey, can you get me a towel?

  Sally laughed. She was visualising Mark, not David. Emma took her chance and, lifting herself to touch Sally’s face affectionately, she moved the last bit of very damp obstruction and felt David’s cock ease into her. He kept reading.

  Wait, I yelled back.

  I’m freezing, you replied, and I pictured you hopping in the nude amidst the cooling steam rubbing your arms.

  Go give him a towel, will you, Sally? There’s one on the wardrobe door in my bedroom.

  She got up and hurried to complete my errand. I heard an Oh Shit! from you and I laughed. Sally came back laughing
and red-faced.

  He opened the door wide. He had a huge erection. I saw it! she revealed laughing.

  You followed her out in your towel.

  Sorry, Sally, you said. I thought …

  You blushed.

  Come here, I said.

  You came to me. Your towel wrapped tightly around you. You couldn’t hide the shape of your erection. I brought my hand up and stroked it through the towel. Sally watched all this with great attention. I parted your towel a little and stroked your inner thigh and scratched the bottom of your balls.

  I want to teach Sally how to suck cock, I said. It was as though the thought had just come to me.

  Whose cock? you asked, smiling.

  I want to suck yours, said Sally, and I felt such a rush of physical pleasure at the mere thought of what saying that meant for her. I ripped the towel off you. You stood naked, unashamed, and your cock stood proud.

  We are going to use you. Aren’t we, Sally? He is our man tonight, I said.

  Sally smiled in quiet awe at the situation she found herself in and came and sat beside me. Her face passed so close to your cock as she did this and I saw you move it ever so slightly closer to her lips and then we both saw your cock twitch.

  I cupped your balls and leant in and kissed the very tip. I watched Sally out of the corner of my eye. I brought my head back and I kissed her lips in front of you. This was the best kiss I had that evening. Oh! I felt so bad. The truth of my wickedness came over me.

  You made a move toward Sally and I said, Stand still or you get nothing. This is ours tonight. I grabbed your cock and stroked it roughly.

  Mine, said Sally, reaching out for it.

  I slapped her wrist and she looked at me mournfully.

  One step at a time, I said. I won’t have any disobedience from either of you.

  You were so good to play my game for me. I wanted to kiss you again and again. You are all mine and yet I want to share you. I can’t understand my pleasures. I told Sally to take her top off and she did. I told her to dispose of the bra and the panties and then I took away her skirt. She is lovely.

 

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