Me & Emily & Daddy's Cum Ch. 01

Emily professed indifference when it came to boys, but I always suspected that it was because they didn't pay much attention to her, and not because she really didn't want one of them to jump on her.

I'd always tried to bolster her confidence and reassure her that she was cute and fun to be with. It wasn't hard for me to say those things, because I really believed them. Emily has a wicked sense of humor that she usually keeps hidden and she's really cute. She's just a little naïve here and there. She's been my best friend for, like, forever. But I never got very far extolling her virtues to her, mostly because as a girl and her best friend my opinion just didn't count when it came to such things.

Last weekend Josh Witulski had asked her out, and although I'd been dying to ask her about it I had decided that I was going to let her bring it up. Looks like she finally was going to. Josh is OK, I guess, but he's not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box. He wasn't like her first date ever, but it had been a long time since her last one.

"What happened?"

"Well," a diffused blush crawled up Emily's face. "We were sitting in the car in front of my house after the movie. He slid over and put his arm around my shoulder." Emily paused.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, what, did he kiss you?"

Emily took a deep breath. "Yeah, he kissed me," she went on. "I thought he was going to do it again, but instead he just kinda cuddled up. It was nice. He said that he wanted to take me to see 'Troy' – you know, the movie?" I nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"He put his finger on my breast and started drawing little circles around my nipple."

I giggled. "And what, you didn't like it?"

"No," she said, "I liked it." Emily blushed again, a delicate spray of pink spreading over her normally pale skin. "He said, like he was being all seductive or something, that he wanted to take me to see Troy because I was like his Helen, and he wanted to kidnap me and take me to Paris."

"And you said...?"

Emily started talking faster, her frustration evident in the tone of her voice. "I mean, why are guys so dumb? I couldn't seem to stop myself. I didn't mean it! I probably just sounded mean. You know, like he was some kind of dummy or something. But come on – everybody knows that Paris was the guy who kidnapped Helen from Troy, right?"

I didn't answer that. But I hadn't been calling her 'Little Miss Correct Everything' all through high-school for no reason. Emily just couldn't stand it when somebody said something that was wrong.

"Oh, I know I messed up," she said. "Big time." Like I said, Emily is not stupid. "As soon as I said it I knew I'd screwed up. Next thing I knew he'd told me goodnight, gotten me out of the car and started to drive off."

"So what?" I said. "Witulski is a boob. He doesn't know a good thing when he sees it. It's not like you really wanted him for a boyfriend anyhow."

"That's not it. I know he's a moron. It's what he said as he drove off."

Emily hesitated, a combination of discomfort and embarrassment playing over her face. She took a sudden interest in her lap, and I knew that we'd reached the crux of her problem.

"Come on," I said, patting her on the knee. "You can tell me."

Emily nodded, and I could barely hear her whispered revelation. "He said he didn't want to kiss me anymore anyways, because I kiss like a goldfish."

I couldn't believe it! Even Josh Witulski wasn't that low, was he? Nobody could be so mean they'd deliberately hurt the feelings of a girl as sweet as Emily. And certainly not a boy - they'll say anything if they think they can get into your pants. Besides, it couldn't be true. It's not like there's any big secret to being a good kisser, right?

I couldn't think of a thing to say, so I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her tightly and held her. Sometimes words are just unnecessary, you know? Her dark hair tickled my nose and the scent of her shampoo was somehow strangely intoxicating. No wonder guys like this stuff, I thought. We held each other as some of the tension that I'd noticed in my best friend leeched out of her.

When we finally let go I could tell that unburdening herself had done Emily a lot of good. There was a trickle of a tear from the corner of her eye. She bravely wiped it away with the back of her hand and smiled at me, shaking off the trauma that Josh had caused her by sharing it with me.

Emily's eyes dropped to her lap again, and she said, "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything," I said. "What are best friends for? You want me to go beat him up? Start a nasty rumor that he couldn't get it up? Tell his Mommy that he prefers football players to smart pretty girls?"

Emily laughed, but then grew immediately serious. She looked straight at me, her big dark eyes somehow drawing me close to her. I remember thinking that a boy could really fall into those eyes.

"I want you to kiss me."

I know that my mouth flew open as a million thoughts scrambled through my head, with surprise being the predominant one. But right behind the surprise was a rush of curiosity and a warm flash of desire. For Emily? How could that be? I sat there for a moment trying to rally my thoughts. Kiss a girl? Me? But? My brain was like, totally derailed. Emily obviously took my confusion for an open window. When she was sure that I wasn't going to run screaming from the room or anything, she went on.

"I mean, you have lots more practice than I do. If I really kiss like a goldfish you'll tell me, right? And then you could help me fix it."

I barely heard her. I guess my discovery of Mom's toy and my afternoon session in the shower had left me a little needy. I'd kissed a few boys and God knows that I liked it, but I guess the thought had never occurred to me to kiss a girl. The thought seemed strangely seductive. Besides, it was just a kiss, right? It's not like we were going to have sex or anything. I caught my breath as the image of me in the bathroom naked and squatting in front of the mirror flashed into my head, only it was Emily that I saw, steamy and naked and sexy as all hell. Where did that come from? I pushed the picture away. Emily needed me. And she had already been rejected once this week. I didn't even want to think about what it would do to her if I turned her down after she had gathered the courage it took to ask me.

I suppressed a giggle as I thought of what my Dad would say if I really was necking in my room. With a girl, no less. After all of the kidding that we took from him about doing inappropriate stuff, it would serve him right if that's what we were actually doing. I think that was the thought that pushed me from 'you're kidding' to 'why not?' to 'yes'.

"Of course," I said brightly, as if she'd asked me to help with her homework or something. I guess I didn't really know how to gracefully handle a request like that. I patted Emily on the knee and I got up and went to the door and shut it. Dad was kidding about us keeping it open. Mostly. I think.

I went back and took Emily's hand and led her over to the middle of the bedroom floor. We sat down facing each other Indian style with our knees touching. Emily put her hands on my knees, and I rested my hands on her forearms.

We looked at each other for a few seconds, gathering nerve. I don't think I'd ever noticed how really pretty Emily is. She had light freckles on her snowy skin and a little gap between her front teeth that kept her smile just short of perfection. Of course it might have been the excitement of the moment that made her seem so damned desirable. My heightened awareness of the need between my legs, the mental images of Mom riding the Symbian, the memory of my soft pussy lips after the session in the shower all combined to wash away my inhibitions. I leaned close to my best friend.

It was as if we'd done all this before. There was no fumbling as we figured out where our noses were going like there was with every boy I'd ever kissed. I closed my eyes, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. My body seemed to grow softer and warmer as we slowly got closer. Finally our lips touched and a jolt of pure erotic pleasure passed through me from my lips to all the way to my pussy. And then I melted. This was so unlike any of the boys I'd kissed. Emily tasted so sweet. Her lips were moist and pliant, somehow giving me more than I was returning to her. I was lost. I don't know where I went – someplace where time doesn't exist and an eternity can be squeezed into the space of one kiss. I felt woozy. A delicious warm woozy that I could have lived inside forever. It felt as if we were exchanging a tiny fundamental part of our hearts. Something of me became Emily, and something of Emily became me.

It was wonderful.

One kiss turned into many without a single objection from my conscience. I don't know how long we went at it, exploring, nibbling, sharing. Suddenly her neck called my lips, and I kissed her there. Then her earlobe. Her cheek. The little hollow under her jaw. My explorations were cut short when her lips called me back and I had to kiss her again. I wanted to be everywhere all at once and I was disappointed that I couldn't be. Our tongues explored, gently tasting and teasing and mashing. I could feel her nipples rubbing my breasts through our shirts, and my whole body was begging to be out of my clothes. Finally I realized that my whole body felt flushed and I was having a hard time catching my breath. I was even feeling dizzy, and I had been for some time. We needed to stop. Reluctantly I leaned away.

It was a good thing that I was holding on to Emily's arms. I was so light-headed from what Emily had done to me that I would have fallen right over if I hadn't been clutching her so tightly.

I took a deep breath, fighting my return to the present, wanting to stay lost in the microcosm we'd created. But the extra oxygen cleared my head just enough to bring me back to where I was – sitting on the floor of my bedroom with my lips still flushed from Emily's warm kisses.

"Ohmigod," I said. Emily's eyes were still closed and she swayed slightly. Her breaths were deep and somehow needy. I could see her struggle to remember where she was and what she was doing, much the same as I had been. Only worse.

I watched as her mind drifted back to the here and now. Her eyes were still closed as if she was afraid to look at me. She pursed her lips in a look that hurt to see - I could tell that she was steeling herself to be disappointed.

"Like a goldfish, right?" she asked. I couldn't believe it – hadn't she felt what I'd felt?

"Oh, God, no, honey!" I held her face in my hands and peppered her with little kisses. "Trust me, that was the best kiss I've ever had." I tried to inject as much sincerity in my voice as I could. It was suddenly the most important thing to me in the whole world for Emily to know that I was telling her the absolute truth.

I could tell she was having a hard time trying to decide if I was just pretending so she wouldn't be hurt or if I really meant it. I had to convince her. I held her face still as I kissed her again, slow and sweet, my tongue lightly dancing on her lips.

"The best."

Another kiss.

"The best."

Kiss.

"The best."

With each kiss Emily's response was more enthusiastic and I knew that she was becoming convinced that I was telling her the truth. Finally she leaned away from me and a shy smile grew on her lips. I could feel a big grin growing on my face, and in a minute we were both just smiling at each other, eyes dancing with our newfound knowledge. Emily tried unsuccessfully to look serious as she dropped her eyes to her lap and pretended to pout. "I guess that means I don't need any practice, right?"

I laughed and leaned in for more.

It wasn't long before the realization of just how far gone we were dawned on me. Emily's sweet kisses were somehow finding their way from my lips down to the warm spot between my legs. Not that I hadn't given myself a head start in the shower. My pussy hadn't really stopped leaking since this afternoon in Mom's closet. Now I was all squishy and my panties were soaked and I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices. Emily's knees were spread wide too, her jeans stretched tight over her sex. I had a craving to cup her in my hand, to feel the taut denim, to feel if she was as slick as I was. This was going too far. I knew that a few more minutes of this and neither one of us would be able to stop.

I leaned away from Emily. I took a long deep breath to try to keep my body from wobbling. As much as I didn't want to, I had to stop. With Emily's lips no longer directly influencing my desires, I was able to gather enough resolve to stand up. Somehow that resolve didn't extend far enough to make my legs stop shaking. Emily sat on the carpet, her eyes closed and her body swaying slightly. I patted her on the head and said, "Good job."

Emily swallowed and said, "No more practice?"

"Not tonight," I said, trying not to let my voice reveal how badly I wanted to go on. Practice? Jeez, if we didn't stop right now I'd be ripping her clothes off so that I could suck her nipples and rub my pussy on her legs. I walked to the bedroom door and pushed it open. This was for my protection. I didn't really think that Dad would look in on us without knocking, but with the door open the chance that we'd get caught was good enough that we'd have to stop.

I pulled Emily to her feet and we went to sit at my desk and talk online with the gang. As if we'd entered some secret pact, neither one of us mentioned our make out session. There was an unvoiced dare going on. If we altered our routine then somehow we were giving life to our newfound knowledge that a girl's lips and body could make us that excited. And so we pretended that nothing had happened. Well, mostly.

Later I put on my nightshirt in the bathroom instead of in my room where Emily could watch. Suddenly I didn't want her to see my naked breasts or me taking off my clothes. I was that close to succumbing to my longings, and I knew that she probably was too. I didn't want either of us to have to fight off the temptations of naked skin, soft lips and too much 'practice.'

Emily and I always slept together in my bed, which was big enough for two. It just never seemed fair that one of us should have to sleep on the sofa or the floor. So we always slept together. Of course things were a little different this night.

Emily went to the bathroom and changed into the t-shirt she kept at our house for overnighters. I guess that she didn't want to change in front of me either that night. I remember being kind of disappointed that I wasn't going to get to see her naked breasts, but I was relieved, too. I turned out the light and we climbed into bed. But this time we were extra careful not to touch each other as we climbed in. Our usual bedtime banter was stilted and we were both happy to pretend that we were too sleepy to talk. We slept as far away from each other as we could, the better to keep our new desires from overtaking us.

I don't know about Emily, but I didn't sleep well. My night was a fuzzy haze of feelings and images that muddled my sleep and left me wanting; my slick pussy calling my fingers, Emily's lips and her breasts pressed against mine, the machine in Mom's closet, its rubber penis calling me. Ohmigod – the machine! Could Mom be using it right now? I strained to hear something, anything that might be the sound of that machine through the walls. Vibrators make noise, right? Or Mom! Maybe if I listened hard enough I could hear her moaning like I did in the bathroom. Did she even moan when she came? I don't know if I was actually awake or just dreaming that I was listening. But I do know that somehow I was disappointed when I didn't hear anything.

My thoughts drifted back to Emily. God, I was horny! I knew that if I just rolled over and kissed her again we'd wind up doing a lot more than kissing.

I lay there restless and sleepy and horny all at the same time. On the one hand, I loved the woozy comfort of our new relationship. Emily and I had entered a compact, the promise of which was still cloudy and undefined. Her kisses had touched me in a way that no boy ever had and I longed for more. But I kept my hands away from Emily, and away from my pussy, too. I didn't want her to catch me doing myself.

And so the night passed – a hazy mix of unfulfilled promise of our future together, of unfulfilled lust right now. An alliance of just the two of us.

Next: Rising infatuations lead the girls someplace unexpected...