One day I knew I would. On that day she would play with me. I would join her in the bath over the edge of which she dangled a booted leg. I would take a deep breath, dive into the scented depths and feel her pubic hair, velvet against my face. I would lick her, tongue her, before coming up for air. Then I would run my fingers over the exuberant flowers of her sleeve tattoo, kiss her and take her under with me. When we surfaced, I would take a sponge and wash her and this would be the most sensual of all, to push the sponge against her back, squeeze until the water ran in rivulets down her skin. Then I would rub her down, quickly, slowly, quickly, remembering each inch, the shades of her skin, the blemishes, the undulating highway of her spine, absorbing it all for the future. I was a cartographer of lust, even as I lay and fantasised.
I promised Emily that, come the day, she would be the first to fuck me. I am into men, sure, I love cock more than most things, and putting a length in my mouth, feeling it harden as I worked the bellend with my tongue, swallowing the warm ejaculation, was one of life’s greater pleasures. But to be penetrated by a cock? That would surely come, and I had a few volunteers to be the first. But I really want Emily, dream of a mutual fucking with a double-ended dildo. Or maybe not. I want her with the strap on, holding my wrists as she comes down, feeling my fear and feasting on it. Then I want it hard, hard.
“This time” she will say “You will know you’ve been fucked. ”
The next time her lover, the one I have cut out of the main picture will be there. They will both have strap-ons, they will spit roast me, and when I am spent I will be made to watch them making love, not roughly as they have treated me but gently, watch them kiss, watch them finger each other.
And if we can’t do that, she will plunge a wand down on my brand-new clit and bring me quickly to orgasm. Or maybe I will do it myself, imagine she is there with me. That time will come, a year and painful surgery away. It will come. For now, I say good night to Emily, put her back in the drawer, Emily and the dark-haired lover whose name I do not know and masturbate to completion as I surf the crested waves of my still too large bed.
This is a little story for Masturbation Monday. You can find links to more stories to get yoir juices flowing here
2 thoughts on “See Emily Play”
Wow – how wonderfully told, what a great ‘voice’ you’ve found, I ran through a gamut of wrong assumptions about who was describing their fantasy and was still surprised by the final reveal.
What a sexy story…and I love that twist at the end. Emily is not who I expected, but I love her nonetheless. 🙂