The Secret Lives of Emma: Distractions

by Walker, Natasha

  The cock, I said. I waved my hand like a model on The Price is Right.

  Lesson one, I continued. The lick.

  You brought yourself closer to me and I lowered my head and twisted my neck so that I could lick the underside of your balls. I felt them contract under the pressure of my tongue. I sucked one ball, then the other, into my mouth. You groaned. I withdrew and motioned for you to go to Sally and I watched as she did as I had done. Your cock jumped. Here was the eighteen-year-old neighbour of your fantasies, licking your balls. Her light, soft, innocent touch, her pink lips and red, warm, wet tongue were actually pleasuring you.

  God! I felt like riding you so hard when I saw her do that. I could have knocked you to the ground and ridden you till your cock snapped off inside of me.

  Sally was growing very uncomfortable. Her desire was distracting her from the story. The pressure of David’s body against her own was an incitement to riot. But just then she discovered she was being duped. She realised Emma was fucking David. What to do?

  She lifted her head and tried to reach your dome, but I pulled you to me. Your hand came down and rested on my face. I lifted away and Sally dived in. She was a straight-A student. Your hands grabbed her head and brought it up to the tip of your shaft and you were about to fuck her mouth when I pulled her from you.

  Emma could not resist any longer, she placed a hand on David’s thigh and raised herself slowly, then lowered herself just as slowly. David closed his eyes for just a second as she did so. The pleasure was exquisite. His naughtiness meter exploded. Emma continued her slow fuck. He would find it very difficult to resist Sally now if she made any move. He longed for her. But not for any money would he disturb the moment by ceasing to read. The more he concentrated on reading the greater the anticipation.

  Wait! Fucking wait, I said, slapping your arse so hard the noise partially awoke me from my lustful slumber. You stood stock still and I took hold of your cock. I dived on it, stuffing the shaft down my throat. I didn’t care any more. I sucked hard and fast and your hands came down against my ears and all went quiet. I wanted you to explode in my mouth.

  And then the girl stuck her fingers inside me. She held my hip tightly with her free hand. I was manic. I sucked and bucked against her hand. I was losing my mind in the dirty lust of it all. I came. Not you. I fucking came so powerfully, I couldn’t suck. I could only feel the pleasure her young hand was causing me and I dropped your cock and lay on the floor and looked up and saw the young, sweet neighbour take you gingerly into her mouth.

  Sally was writhing. Holding herself back. She was purposefully not making it known that she was aware of the two cheats beside her. She wouldn’t give them the pleasure. She actually worried, for a millisecond, about her mother’s couch, so wet had she become. Sneakily, Sally was able to utilise the soft heel of Emma’s left foot, so perfectly placed, which moved slightly at every rise.

  I pulled her over onto my face. I watched her knees scoot over, and hungered as her hips lowered upon my mouth. I could feel the movements and the rhythm of her sucking. I licked and was rewarded by a lovely shudder and a muffled scream of ecstasy from my little neighbour. She was far more attentive to your needs than I had been, for though she was climaxing her determined little mouth held you tight. She was stuffed full of you.

  I pulled myself from under her and watched her. You were showing such restraint letting her work away at you without grabbing her head.

  You lifted Sally’s head from your cock and asked her, Can I come?

  Yes, yes, and she clamped back on your cock and you finally took her head in your hands and fucked her mouth. I hugged her from behind and fingered her and watched your cock slide in and out.

  Ohh! fuck!! It looked so fucking exciting.

  ‘Don’t stop reading!’ said Emma, as she sprang from David’s lap. Sally almost dived on David’s glistening cock. Her mouth had fallen open. She thought it gorgeous, so hard and thick. She moved her hand to take hold of it, but Emma pushed a bare foot between David and Sally, and one on the other side of David, and, facing him, sat back down on her husband’s cock. ‘Oh, Jesus! Keep going!’ He read on as his wife came down heavily upon him again and again. He could see Sally staring and knew he would fuck her next.

  Sally managed to take you in and handled the assault to her mouth by your fast thrusting. Her small hand strangled the base of your cock and her other squeezed your balls while I held her against my body.

  Then we heard you groan and I knew you were beginning. You stopped breathing and almost stopped your thrusts and then you burst out with an explosion of sound. I heard her gag and yet she held on to your cock and sucked down your come. You thrust in again and again.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! you spat out, over and over. But then you stopped and I continued to finger her and then she came too. I kissed her mouth, tasted you on her lips, on her tongue and squeezed her close to me. Your cock rose steadily, I could see.

  ‘I want to do it again,’ she said. And I knew I had started something I would regret. The end.

  ‘Oh, fuck, honey, not yet, not yet!’ growled Emma, grinding down on David’s cock, clutching the pleasure she felt sure could last. If she were lucky, she might turn it into one of those orgasms, the special kind, which are dug out and leave a great big hole in the soul.

  NINETEEN

  David dropped the pages onto Sally’s lap and took Emma’s hips in hand lightly, letting her direct the rhythm. He had enjoyed concentrating on the words while Emma concentrated on his cock. The effect of her manic rising and falling, and her contracting muscles was distanced by her determination that he should continue reading.

  Now that the story had ended and the three lines of eroticism could meet, he felt an orgasm thundering towards him at full steam. He wanted to halt its progress. He could see by Emma’s face, her ecstatic concentration, that she was working steadily towards a summit and he wanted to hold out for her. But also, with Sally so close, with her watching them, his greed was engaged. He wanted to fuck Sally. Nothing would stop him. Nothing, that is, but the orgasm. He reached out to touch Sally, but she shook his hand from her. He returned to Emma’s hip. Sally’s rejection of his advance distracted him for a moment and the orgasm receded slightly.

  Sally was fuming – truly wrathful. Circumstances seemed rallied against her. Somehow the easiest solution to the problem had become the hardest to accept. Her individual will had been circumvented. She had been completely outwitted. What she wanted was the last thing she might naturally have. Although he was well within reach.

  Emma was too far gone to take note of her husband’s attempt to engage Sally further. In Emma’s mind, not so clear to begin with, Sally was a fool not to enjoy the moment. She would have welcomed her. To open her eyes and find her husband kissing her lover would be a double pleasure. The pleasure she was experiencing alone was enough for her though. She leant down and kissed her husband, the road she had been following had led nowhere. She’d never reach such hallowed heights inebriated. The pleasure now was far more diffuse, her whole body shuddered with each meeting thrust from her husband. He undid her top and her lovely white breasts fell into view.

  Emma was feeling so good. She climbed down from her mount, picked up her glass, knelt on the floor between his legs. She sipped her wine while stroking him and looking up at Sally. The silence was wonderful.

  David was twitching each time Emma ran her hand off the end of his swollen prick. He was watching her work as was Sally. Sally kept staring at his cock and, time and time again, felt like she was actually riding that rod, so close was the fantasy to the possible.

  Emma could feel Sally’s reluctance to share even now. She wanted to go down on Sally while Sally sucked the wonderful cock, but saw this would not be possible. Silly Sally.

  So instead she turned right around and laid her stomach on the coffee table, presenting her arse to her husband. He needed no further invitation. He crouched over her, feet firmly placed on each side of her, and lowe
red himself into her.

  Immediately, he felt a hand on his balls. Sally had reached forward and was rubbing him. David neither turned nor gave any indication that she had joined them. He just fed his cock as deep as he could into his wife. So deep he came to a stop. Emma groaned. He lifted out and thudded into her again. Another groan.

  As his thrusting accelerated Sally removed her hand. The husband and wife were making a fabulous racket. She sat back and watched. She found she liked to watch. The muscles in David’s thick thighs were a potent force by themselves. She reached out again and rubbed her hand along his thigh, from the back of his knee to his tensed arse. The hairs on his legs felt rough and were covered in sweat. His butt rose and fell before her. She could watch the length of his cock disappear into Emma. His pumping accelerated at an extraordinary rate. Sally could hear the air being beaten from Emma’s lungs at each downward thrust. He was a beast to her. But Emma’s moans only grew deeper and louder as the power and speed of her husband increased.

  Sally wasn’t moved to touch herself, though she was sitting exposed, legs apart, heated and hungry. She knew such touching would barely be registered. She needed what Emma was lucky enough to be receiving. Watching was poisonously sweet. She stood up and walked around to the couch opposite. She sat there, legs apart, in full view of her two friends. David leered at her beneath a sweaty brow and Emma’s eyes stared expressionless, her mouth wide open, hands gripping the edges of the coffee table.

  Now Sally began to touch herself, her thighs, her breasts. She reached around and undid her bikini top. David saw her breasts for the first time. No tan line, all brown and so very firm. Sally squeezed her nipples for him. She began to masturbate for him, slipping her fingers deep inside herself. She lifted her legs up, still spread as wide as she could, and rested her feet on the edge of the couch cushion. She forced more and more fingers inside herself, for him. Her eyes did not leave his, even though his were occupied with her performance.

  Emma was aware of Sally’s behaviour, but, apart from a general rise in the eroticism of the moment, she was unaffected, for she could not focus outwardly. David’s thrusting was powerful but misdirected, overwhelming but frustrating, it spoke of grand things but delivered short on its promise. Emma’s focus was thus inward, concentrating on his tantalising offer. She growled. She clenched. And was battered for her trouble.

  But David was tiring now. His thighs burned. He pushed back the couch, causing it to crash into the chairs around the dining table and fell to his knees, pressing his cock back inside Emma, who welcomed his return by clutching him with her inner muscles.

  He found a place each recognised immediately. His thrusting became purposeful. Emma closed her eyes. David closed his eyes, and grabbed her hips. She could feel herself being steadied by his hands. Her body was under his control. There was no fighting such obvious strength. He held her hips steady and he brought himself against her powerfully. Ramming his hips against hers. Thrusting up at the last moment and forcing the head of his cock into the place, felt but never seen, which felt so damn good to both of them.

  The noise Emma made! Sally, still playing with herself, but now unattended by the lovers, brought herself to a sharp climax on the strength of that noise. She lay back in the couch. She was shuddering sweetly. Her feet fell to the floor and she watched the lovers – Emma’s face was gorgeous – through half-closed eyelids. Lazily, she was sure her husband would come down and surprise them all. Sally felt a great sense of relief at the thought, but she failed to investigate the reason behind such relief.

  Soon Emma’s extraordinary moans, and filthy expletives, were joined by her husband’s foul mouth. Sally began touching herself again. The bass of David’s moans were reverberating up her legs, shaking her thighs, vibrating her clit.

  David was riding a wave right into the shore. He had hoped to sit out the back a little longer, but the swell was large and the opportunities too hard to resist. He caught the wave of the day. Emma’s demands – Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Harder! – initiated his descent down the front of this magnificent wave. He’d hoped to hold out for her. He could tell she was near. So very near. That knowledge was too exciting to ignore. And, hell, he had no desire to fight this orgasm. A monster. He stared down at his wife’s glorious body, her lean, lovely back, saw her head down, hands clenched, and heard her moans. He was lost to her. He knew she was his, that he had drawn her near the moment. Her body was running through the sound checks, fixing the lighting, the star was having a last-minute drink in the green room.

  FUCK! screamed, groaned, moaned the man as his wave finally reached the shore. He gripped Emma’s hips so tightly, thumping against her arse, rooting out the last remnants of pleasure.

  Emma was thrilled at the sound of his orgasm, the violence of his expression, the way he managed to find rarer places in that final onslaught. When he lay back he pulled her with him and they lay in each other’s arms. They were content.

  By the time either of them remembered they were not alone Sally was already respectably dressed. Emma lifted her head and smiled at her friend, who was civilised enough to smile back warmly even though Emma had stolen something she thought was rightfully hers. On watching David’s furious climax Sally had felt such jealousy that she no longer won any enjoyment from their coupling. All had gone exactly as she had imagined it. He was powerful and basic, brutal and complete. But he’d closed his eyes at one point and afterwards, when he opened them again, they were fixed on Emma. He was Emma’s alone from that moment on. Sally was forgotten.

  Now Emma’s head rested on David’s chest and her hand was playing with his wilting cock. She was extracting come from this spent force, pressing at the base of his balls, running her wet fingers up between his balls and along his shaft, causing a large drop to form on the eye of his cock. She caught the drop on the tip of her finger and brought it to her mouth, stuck out her tongue and licked.

  She loved fucking when David had no choice but to come. She never grumbled when he didn’t bring her to orgasm. She preferred him to be overwhelmed. She preferred him caught up in the act. Often she’d come faster knowing he was lost in the thrill of fucking her. She lay on him truly happy. None of the thoughts and jealousies she’d indulged before their fun had returned to disturb her.

  David held her tightly, his eyes were closed. His body heaved, taking in great lung-filling breaths and he perspired. He was still the beast. The beast at rest.

  Sally was now lost for words. Not only words, but actions. How does one act in such a circumstance? She had been left out in the cold, but she hadn’t slipped away. She had liked watching them. But now the room was so still. She listened to the surf, surprised. It was as if, for a time, the ocean had been calm and now it roared once again. How intrusive the sound seemed now. How intrusive Sally herself seemed. These two exhausted lovers excluded her. She felt ashamed of her behaviour. She’d shown David more than he was entitled to have seen. She felt she had blown her mystery.

  David had chosen Emma over Sally. Now Sally could only watch as Emma’s hand played with David. Emma had begun to stroke his shaft rhythmically, though it was spent. There was a potency, even now, in David’s recumbent figure, in the rise and fall of his chest. Had she been sure of a welcome she may have gone to lay down with them. Some very simple thing was occurring, something attractive, something vital and she wanted to share in it. She’d been experiencing such moments with Emma all week and now that she was excluded from it, she craved the tenderness.

  She wanted to show her feelings for David, to share once again with Emma. Now that everything had calmed down she no longer felt the resentment towards Emma. She was remembering, instead, the first lovely night they had spent together as adult lovers. Just two days ago! Though she was loath to ever admit as much verbally, the sleepless night she’d shared with Emma was the loveliest she’d ever spent with anyone. She’d never felt as much tenderness towards another. She’d never received such pleasure from another. She’d never k
nown herself to give so much pleasure and to derive so much joy and pleasure from that giving. Watching Emma and David, their bodies pressed together, David’s hand roaming over Emma’s arse, Emma’s stroking of David, watching them kiss, witnessing David’s fingers emerge glistening from a foray between Emma’s legs, Sally was becoming flushed and eager.

  ‘You two are so beautiful,’ Sally said, spontaneously. Her voice sounded gravelly, like she had just woken. She meant what she said, too. They both had such lovely bodies, which were superbly matched, each being an expression of all that was attractive in their sex.

  ‘Thank you, baby,’ said Emma, reaching out her hand, and beckoning her with her finger.

  David could not find any words. He’d forgotten till then that they were with company. Not forgotten. No. But … he was untouched by her presence. He knew she was there, liked that she was there, but had taken it as his due. He was feeling very kingly, very grand. Now to acknowledge her presence was to dispel the feeling.

  Sally managed to step over to Emma, though her stomach was a flutter with a million butterflies. The movement was akin to stepping into a painting, or having fallen in love with a character in a play, having that character turn to you and invite you on stage. Sally had no way of knowing how to behave. So she sat cross-legged next to Emma.

  ‘I can’t see you if you sit there, beautiful,’ said Emma, who had laid her head down on David’s chest again.

  Sally moved. She sat beside David and was close enough to a glass of wine to take it up in her hand and sip it. She then cradled the glass in her lap as though it were a safety jacket thrown from the deck of ship – she was in uncharted waters.