Uninhibited (Unlikely Lovers)

by Brooks, Cheryl

  “You’re probably right.” He blew out a sigh. “I’m already driving you nuts, aren’t I?”

  “Not yet. There are still a few things we haven’t tried.”

  “Nothing painful or kinky, I hope.”

  Emily gaped at him. “Is that what it’s taken before?”

  He nodded. “Ever read any Stephen King novels?”

  “Not many, why?”

  “I forget the title, but there’s one where a guy handcuffs his wife to the bed to have some kinky sex, but then he has a heart attack and dies, and she’s left out in the middle of nowhere, handcuffed to the bed with a dead husband on the floor and wolves prowling around.”

  Emily shuddered. “Sounds horrible. How did she get out of it?”

  Alan shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t read any further, but something like that happened to me once. It wasn’t handcuffs, so I worked my way loose eventually, but—”

  “Are you saying she died?”

  “No,” he replied. “Just tied me up to give her time to escape. That one was a tough pill to swallow, too. When Carol left me, she just never came out of the restroom. At least she didn’t feel the need to take my car keys or leave me stranded out in the middle of nowhere with wild dogs trying to eat me alive.”

  Despite the horrendous nature of his story, his expression of sheepish chagrin triggered a fit of the giggles that quickly progressed to complete and utter hysteria. “You have to be making that up,” Emily declared between peals of laughter. “No one would do that.”

  He laughed—a little. “Unfortunately, most of it’s true.”

  “Where were you?”

  “My apartment,” he replied. “Honestly, all she had to do was tell me she wanted to leave. She didn’t need to tie me up. I’m not that bad.”

  “Did you at least learn something from that experience?”

  “Yeah, I learned that bondage is not my thing—at least, not if it involves tying me up. I should have realized what she meant when she said she was going to give me a taste of my own medicine. She certainly knew how to handle me—I’ll give her that much. Said it’d be the best sex I’d ever had, so, stupid me, I went along with her. Once she had me secure, she got dressed and left. Said she’d get a restraining order if I ever came near her again.”

  “What do you do to people?”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know, but shit like that happens to me all the time. I’ll swear off women for a while, then someone else comes along, and before I know it, I’m right back where I started. I keep hoping I’ll find the right one, but I’m not sure she exists.”

  And to think, I searched high and low for this man.

  Maybe if she sucked his dick continuously for a week…

  No, my jaw would lock up.

  “Has anyone ever really tried giving you a taste of your own medicine? I mean actually done it?”

  Not surprisingly, he seemed a bit leery. “Like what?”

  “Oh, you know…hang all over you, demand sex constantly, never leave you alone, follow you to the bathroom—that sort of thing.”

  He winced. “I’ve never given anyone the chance. I’m usually too busy doing that shit to them.”

  “You aren’t doing anything right now,” Emily observed.

  “Yes, I am,” he insisted. “I’m in bed with you and we’re both naked. I’ve got my arms around you—sort of—and, if I’m not mistaken, my cock is drooling all over your leg. I could hold you a little tighter, I suppose, but—”

  “You’re drooling on me?” The mere thought triggered an overwhelming desire to suck him again. “Pre-cum? Cock syrup? Joy juice?”

  At least he laughed. “There might be a little cum in there, too.”

  “Even better.” She dove beneath the covers. “Holy shit! There’s a frickin’ river under here. I love that stuff. Keep it coming.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. You’ve never gotten enough sex, and I’ve never gotten enough juice.”

  “Wow. Most women won’t even suck a guy’s dick, let alone enjoy what comes out of it.”

  “That’s where I’m different, I guess. Want to hear something kinky?”

  “Sure—as long as you don’t have to tie me up to tell me.”

  “No, you don’t have to be tied up,” she grumbled. “I’ve always wanted a whole bunch of guys at the same time. Remember what you said about taking a bath in semen? I’d probably like that. Guys lining up to cover me with cum.”

  “Aha! You see? We are perfect for each other. I can come pretty often—almost fast enough to cover you with it.”

  “Yes, but you keep putting me off with all this talk about women hating you, tying you up and leaving you, when all you really have to do is shove your dick in my mouth. You know, that might be the problem more than the need for contact.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You talk too much.”

  Emily’s problem was thinking too much. Most people just assumed she was quiet. She knew better. Leaning over, she rubbed his gushing cock all over her face before licking him clean.

  “And you don’t talk enough,” he gasped. “Say what you said a while ago, and I’m pretty sure I’ll come in your face.”

  Wanting more time to savor him, she lied. “I don’t remember.”

  “You said, and I quote: ‘I’m gonna suck your big fucking dick, and then I want you to fuck all my holes and cover me with cum.’”

  “I said that?”

  “Yes, you did,” he said. “Say it again.”

  “Nah, it’ll lose its effect if I say it too often.”

  And, with that, she went down on him again, sucking him until his continuous groans made intelligible speech impossible. Letting go of his dick, she went after his balls, sucking them while his cock poured out so much syrup it looked like a burning candle with wax running down the side.

  More than enough lubricant to finger his ass…

  Stephen probably would’ve loved it, but Emily wasn’t so sure about Alan. Then again, he could always tell her to stop…

  Moistening her middle finger, she slid it into his ass—didn’t tease him first or give him any warning whatsoever, just reached right in, found his prostate, and began massaging it with her fingertip.

  Moments later, with a yell that made her glad she didn’t live in an apartment building, he went off like a geyser, shooting straight up into the air. His cum rained down on the side of her face, nearly hitting her in the eye as she observed its descent.

  “You’re never gonna let me fuck you, are you?” he gasped. “I’m gonna have to lay here while you get me off every other way you can think of.”

  She popped a testicle out of her mouth. “And you’re complaining?”

  “Yes,” he hissed. “I want to plow into you and fuck you so hard—”

  “Which is what I’ve been afraid of all along,” she said. “You’ll be too energetic, and I won’t like it.”

  “You know you will. Spread your legs and let me fuck you, baby. Let me drive my prick into you and make you scream because it feels so fuckin’ good.”

  “There’s that filthy mouth again,” she said, shaking her head. “Do I have to tie you up and spank you to get you to behave?”

  He actually looked afraid. “No, don’t tie me up,” he begged. “I’ll be good. Don’t tie me up and leave me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Alan, this is my house. I’m not leaving my own house.”

  “Oh, yeah, right... I forgot.”

  “And besides, nobody can do that. You’ve already come three—no, four—times since you got here. If I were you, I’d be more afraid I’ll tie you up and keep you prisoner—sucking your cock whenever I please and making you come all over the place.”

  His response to that was yet another ejaculation. Not quite as spectacular as the previous version, perhaps, and though her finger on his prostate might’ve accounted for it, she preferred to believe her words were responsible.

 
; Just as he was responsible for her current state of arousal. He’d barely even touched her, and not only was her pussy wet and aching, her whole body was on fire. Obviously a man like Alan—one she could do anything with—was what she’d always needed. That lack of freedom had made sex with other men downright boring. No wonder her previous relationships had all failed.

  This one, however, had a chance to succeed. Sure, Alan was a little strange, but then, apparently, so was she.

  And she certainly wasn’t bored.

  Chapter 9

  Emily obviously didn’t know who she was dealing with. He’d only come four times? Funny, he’d thought it was more than that.

  That last one made five.

  Had she actually meant what she’d said about keeping him prisoner? The last time, he’d truly been afraid he wouldn’t get loose, and the more he thought about that Stephen King scenario, the more terrified he’d become. For him, bondage would never be a turn-on.

  He’d sworn off sex after that—for about a week. The next thing he knew, he was fucking someone else. The year-long abstinence had been the result of the last woman he’d fucked. Not only was she married, she was happily married—a sweet, compassionate woman who’d given him what amounted to a pity fuck.

  Pity. He didn’t want pity. He wanted a woman he could love and fuck and not feel guilty about it.

  And he’d certainly felt guilty. Then again, if it weren’t for that particular interlude, he wouldn’t have been able to talk Travis out of having an affair with Miranda. Not that he’d needed to, because Miranda wasn’t married, but he’d done his best.

  Rolling onto his side, he curled up in a ball, trying not to touch her, like she’d asked.

  Damn, this is hard. Especially when she patted him on the butt when she got up and went into the bathroom, presumably to wash her hands. He still couldn’t believe she’d fingered his ass. Alan had diddled plenty of them, but no one had ever messed with his before.

  And I thought I’d done it all.

  Unfortunately, thinking about it only made his dick hard—again. He’d have thought that after a yearlong layoff, getting back in the groove might take a while.

  Ha, ha. His dick worked, all right—perhaps a little too well. No longer than it’d taken her to get him off four—or five—times, Emily probably had him pegged as a premature ejaculator.

  Great.

  When she came back to bed, he tried not to look at her, but knowing she was probably still naked didn’t help his dick any. Still hard, still oozing pre-cum.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He faked a yawn. “Kinda sleepy though.”

  Which was a lie. He wanted to fuck her so bad he couldn’t think straight. All of his relaxation techniques and mantras for not thinking about sex failed him. He couldn’t even remember what they were.

  Emily didn’t snuggle up to him, just patted him on the ass again. “Get some sleep. I’ll take you home tomorrow—if that’s okay with you.”

  Guess she really doesn’t want me to fuck her.

  “Tomorrow is fine.”

  At least she hadn’t kicked him out—yet. Maybe he should save her the trouble and leave now. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to walk home.

  I have so blown this.

  He hadn’t had time to prepare. Todd hadn’t told him where they were going—just said he needed to stop by his sister’s place on the way home. If Emily had called him, he could’ve meditated, could’ve coached himself—hell, he could’ve called Travis for support. But no, he’d walked right into her living room and stripped to his skin.

  She’d liked some of it. He was pretty sure of that. She was right about one thing, though. Once he started fucking, he’d be too—what was it she’d said? Energetic?—for her, and she wouldn’t like it.

  She wasn’t even going to let him try.

  He lay there, trying to control his breathing so she’d think he’d fallen asleep. Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes, soaking the pillowcase before he even realized he was crying.

  I am not crying. And even if he was, it was only because his dick hurt and his nuts ached. Not because he’d screwed up again.

  And he had screwed up. Royally.

  * * * *

  Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any real excitement with a man. Sure, she’d had fun at The Mouse’s Tail, but Stephen’s excitement hadn’t had anything to do with her. Dancing with Reece wasn’t too bad.

  Not great, either.

  The first time she’d had sex with Chad should’ve served as a warning. They’d met at a party, and after a bit of small talk, he said, “Hey, you wanna fuck?” and she’d replied, “Sure, why not?” Suffice it to say, the ensuing encounter proceeded with a comparable level of enthusiasm.

  Prior to the Chad years—as Emily liked to think of them—there was Roger. He was nice enough, but his sexual style leaned toward the perfunctory end of the performance spectrum. Before that, Eugene was…well, Eugene—and how good could a Eugene be? There’d been one or two others whose names she couldn’t recall, and if there’d been any fireworks during their liaisons, she’d slept through them. Her ex-husband Dane wasn’t terribly exciting, and sex with him had occurred so seldom, she’d already forgotten most of it.

  Thus far, Alan was definitely the most interesting, and she hadn’t technically had sex with him yet. Unfortunately, her efforts to take the edge off him appeared to have done the job a little too well.

  Just my luck.

  She had only herself to blame for not simply climbing on for a free dick ride. Alan had certainly been willing—until she’d worn him out. Truth be told, she wasn’t afraid he’d fuck her too hard. Nor was she afraid too much togetherness would drive her nuts. No, her biggest fear was that sex with Alan wouldn’t be as fabulous as she hoped it would be.

  And she wanted it to be fabulous. She was tired of the constant search and wanted to fall in love and get on with life—with the sexual partner of her dreams. Alan had that potential. He was cute, amusing, and he loved sex. Then again, he was rather needy, and he’d conked out on her.

  Yeah, after coming five times.

  Perhaps she’d done the impossible and actually given him as much as he wanted. He might not be able to fuck again for days—or worse, he might never want sex again. She’d warned him that she could probably cure his sexual addiction. What if she’d actually done it?

  Alan sighed in his sleep, interrupting her thoughts until his breathing settled back into a deep, regular rhythm.

  Oh, yeah. She’d done it all right. He was cured.

  Whoopee.

  Sleep was impossible. Without the benefit of five orgasms to knock her out, Emily’s brain wouldn’t shut up, and went right on hashing and rehashing every detail. Should she have done this differently or changed the way she’d said that? What would he say when he woke up? What would he do? He didn’t have a car, but he didn’t live very far away. Since she hadn’t tied him up or bolted the door and hidden the key, he was perfectly capable of putting on his clothes and walking home. What if, having finally had enough, he simply decided to leave? He might even enjoy the novelty of being the one to skedaddle first.

  Finally, in a desperate attempt to turn off her thoughts—rather than shoving a pencil in her ear—she spooned up against his back and draped an arm over his hip. He was warm, solid, and he grounded her thoughts in a way she didn’t expect.

  Unbelievably, she slept.

  She awoke to find Alan nestled up behind her, scattering kisses over her neck and shoulders while gliding his hot, wet cock between her legs.

  “Mmm…” Arching her back, she wiggled her butt against his groin.

  Alan responded by altering the angle enough that his cockhead teased her clit. “Beats waking up to an alarm, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Rocking her hips, she tightened her inner thighs, squeezing his dick against her pussy. “What time is it?”

  “Dunno,” he replied. “Pretty early, I thin
k. Sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Evidently, he hadn’t been cured.

  Whoo hoo!

  “Just had to get my dick between your legs and fuck for a while.” Shifting his hands for a better grip, he picked up the pace. “God, that feels good. Wet…slick…hot.”

  Emily wasn’t sure which one of them was providing most of the lubrication—him, she suspected, although her aching pussy was undoubtedly contributing. “And here I thought you’d finally gotten enough.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “No way. I don’t think I could ever get enough of you. I just needed some time to think of more ways to fuck you without actually fucking you.”

  “And?”

  “This is one of them.”

  “I see. And why are these alternative methods so important?”

  “We haven’t had the STD/birth control discussion yet.” Snaking an arm around her waist, he pulled her up against him and fucked hard and fast for a several strokes, then came with a warm gush down her legs.

  She cleared her throat. “Right. We haven’t. I’ll go first. Currently on the Pill and carrying no communicable diseases—at least none that I’m aware of.”

  Panting slightly, he caught her earlobe in his teeth before replying. “Not on the Pill, and have documentation to prove I’m not carrying anything nasty.”

  “Then actually fucking me is an option?”

  “Is it? I think I messed up earlier. I was kinda bummed out until I realized you never really said you didn’t want me to. Plus, when I woke up, you had your hand on my butt. Seemed like a good sign.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “So, do you want me to fuck you or not?”

  I thought you’d never ask. “Absolutely. But I must admit, I’m intrigued by these alternative methods.”

  “You’re not trying to wear me out first, are you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s possible. Is it?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” he replied.

  That settles it. “Okay. Let’s see some alternatives. A vagina can take quite a pounding, but not indefinitely.”

  Hearing the words vagina, pounding, and indefinitely in the same sentence nearly made Alan come again.