The Evolution of Emily Ch. 01byNymphagirl1©
Special thanks to Le Gourmand for editing this story.
Emily Johnston was 19 years old. Brushing her bangs out of her eyes she heads out of the kitchen, glass of water in hand and trudged up the stairs. Her day old pajamas wrinkled and creased, hanging limply from her thin frame. If one could have seen her 6 months ago, one would never believe she was the same girl. Her parents, Ron and Jessica were at this very minute sitting in their bedroom, and as usual she was the topic of their discussion, a rather intense one, at that.
'Ron, we've got to do something, we can't just let her keep lying around doing nothing all day. It's just not good for her. She should be out, in college making friends and having a life,' Sighing, Jessica looked over at her husband, wishing he'd take her words more seriously rather than with the usual aloofness. Was she the only one who knew that it was unhealthy, not to mention weird that a formerly bubbly, eager teenager would suddenly turn into a hermit? A lot of things could confuse and confound, presenting dead ends of thought, and it seemed that this was one such case for Jessica.
'Sweetie, have you tried talking to her? You're her mother and it's your job to get to the bottom of this. You're the only one who thinks she has a problem, I keep telling you to leave it alone, all teens go through this and she's fine. But no, you have to make this into a big deal. Leave the girl alone.' Ron crossed his arms, giving Jessica the same look usually reserved for parents disappointed with their children. It was obvious he was not pleased with whatever was going on right now.
'You're just annoyed we have to stay home to deal with this. I know we had plans for when you retired, but maybe it's partially our fault leaving her alone so much the last few years. Did you ever think of that Mr. Know-it-All?'
'You didn't seem to mind my retiring early when you could travel all over the world Jessica. You're her mother. If you thought of her back then instead of now, maybe we wouldn't be having this discussion,' Giving his pillows a few light punches Ron tried to get comfortable knowing he'd never get to sleep like this. Once Jessica got something on her mind, she didn't let it go. Lying flat on his back he quickly ran over their life in his mind, thinking where he might have went wrong, sighing out softly, shutting his eyes and sinking into the darkness.
As stock broker he worked hard when his son was young, entrusting his rearing mostly to his wife who was more than happy to stay at home while he went out and made a living to keep food on the table. If only he knew what else she'd been doing on the side he might have been home more often, if only to make sure his wife didn't feel so neglected. A few months after his divorce, walking out of a restaurant with a client, he'd literally run into Jessica, and after striking up a conversation, they'd been with each other ever since. It must've been some kind of special chemistry between them.
Her daughter Emily - 'Emma' as they called her at home - was only a few years younger than his boy and never made him feel less than he was her father, addressing him as 'dad' pretty much right after the wedding. A few smart business moves led him to hit gold, making him very, very wealthy before his 35th birthday, and he decided that day to work smart and not hard from then on. He took early retirement knowing with the money he had saved up they could live more than comfortably on the interest, while still traveling the world as both he and his wife had always dreamed of.
The children were old enough to care for themselves by then, he'd thought, though he always made sure they could be reached at any time day or night and in the 4 years they were away they never even called once, giving the parents no reason to worry.
'I did my job, Jessica. I took great care of you and the kids, made sure they wanted for nothing, and gave them the best of everything. We know she isn't on drugs like half of the other kids in this neighborhood are, and we know it's not a boy since she wouldn't date any of these losers. What else can be wrong with her?'
'She's gorgeous, did great in school and has never had to worry a day in her life. I think you're making something out of nothing, hunny, just relax and try to get some sleep, we can talk about Emmy in the morning.' Ron took a deep breath, breathing only when he finished what he had to say.
Turning over in bed and rolling her eyes, Jessica thought, that's it I've tried everything I know how, tomorrow I'm calling a therapist. She ruminated over the past years, wondering exactly where it all went to hell, but the hour was late and her mind soon drifted off to sleep, and she too went silent in the Sandman's embrace.
Emily lay in bed preparing for another night of little to no sleep, as usual. Lying back against her pillows with her mind running through her day, she couldn't quite remember where all the hours went. One minute it was morning, the next it was time to go to bed. Wishing he, her beloved, were here to talk to, she plumped her pillow and tried again to drift off but every time she closed her eyes she saw his own. The softest of brown, his eyes were warm and inviting, yet capable of turning dark and hard in an instant. This she imagined in her mind's eye, shuddering when those eyes shook with punishing thunder, but feeling warm honey flow through her when they cleared and glowed radiant with inviting charm.
Shaking her head to clear them away, Emily remembered with a reminiscent smile the feel of sitting in his lap, his arms lazily holding her about the waist, but she knew he wouldn't let her tumble out of them, if she ever slipped just because of sitting. Her head fit perfectly against his strong shoulder as if his body were meant for hers. In her mind, it was. It would always be that way. Warmth settled over her, creeping across her cool skin. Imaging his arms around her waist as they'd sat countless times in the past, wishing every single moment that passed counted for five more, she dozed off, still dreaming about how safe and secure she felt within the embrace of those strong arms.
Getting home from a day full of classes, Emily bounced up the stairs, dropping her purse and books haphazardly behind her without looking back. Seated on her bed, she kicked off her shoes and brought her small foot up, kneading it with her thumbs. Feeling some tension ease out of her she did the same to the other, admiring her artfully painted toenails in the process. Baby blue and gentle to the eyes, they were playful yet beautifully done, not unlike everything else in her life.
Glancing at the clock it was barely 4 pm and she knew she would have the house to herself for a few hours. She grinned to herself and walked to her closet and pushed aside some shoeboxes, as if looking for something, setting some aside and basically reaching to the far back and finding her prize. Nothing distinguished it from the others but for the fact that the shoebox was marked size 6 instead of the size 7 she actually wore. Asides from that, it was actually quite plain and ubiquitous being a plain tan, nothing that would attract the attention of any would-be thieves or snoopers.
Heading to her armoire she hooked her finger into a tiny latch and the doors sprung open, revealing a 32-inch flat panel TV screen and an expensive DVD player. Picking out a DVD from her 'box of goodies', as she liked to call it, she grabbed the remote and went back to her bed, moving some pillows out of the way.
Lying on her tummy, she started the movie, a little tingle of anticipation going through her, though this movie wasn't technically hers. She borrowed it - all right she stole it, and that made the anticipation even sweeter. She wanted to giggle to herself because of the sheer mischief in this act. Marcus had so many he'd never notice one missing would he? She didn't even know what this movie was called - it was tossed under his bed with his other pornos. Whatever it was, she'd been waiting the whole week for the chance to watch it.
Static filled the screen and Emily thought that what she inserted might have just been some kind of blank disc, and she felt a tinge of disappointment begin to burn in her belly, but just as she was scooting forward to grab another DVD from the box an image of a blonde leaped on screen. Beautiful, with lush breasts she was seated on a chair, smiling up at the camera. Clad in nothing but slacks, she started to touch her breasts and giggled before covering her face. Suddenly a voice fills the silence, telling her to lower her hands and touch herself for him. Hey, that's Marcus, Emily thinks, and then scoots closer on the edge of her bed, a big grin on her face.
The blonde did as she was told, nervously not looking up at the camera blushing from her breasts to her ears. 'Pinch those nipples, baby,' she hears and watches, riveted knowing where this would lead, but unable to look away. She'd never heard him like that, so manly and bossy. It awoke deeper, much more animalistic tendencies that stirred warmth in her loins.
'Lie down, and spread your legs,' again the girl doesn't hesitate and nether does Emily. She lies down across her queen size bed and lets her legs part, her little white panties starting to get wet.
'Touch it baby, over the panties...that's it good girl... really slowly over the panties." Soft moans fill her room as the blonde loses her shyness, clearly getting into being told what to do for the tape. Tentatively Emily brings her hand down following his directions; she suddenly felt shy though she has the house to herself and Marcus would never know what she's done. She gingerly ran finger on the outside of her panties up and down gently, her fingernail teasing her damp nether lips through the fabric. Her eyes were glued to the screen as she mimicked the blonde's every move, followed his every command. It was causing her heart to race, causing her slit to moisten with every passing moment.
Finally, she pulled her panties off and flung them across the room and heard it hit the door with a soft thud of slightly moist fabric, sort of like a raw steak slapping against flesh. Her right hand snaked down her body again and using two fingers she separated her outer lips, allowing the fingers on her left hand to explore her pussy, stoking, probing, and pulling the folds gently. Nimbly moving them along her now-soaked pussy getting herself to the edge then pulling back never making a move the man on screen didn't order the blonde to.
By the time the blonde was begging to be fucked, Emily was biting her lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure, her finger working her clit in fast circles. Her breasts felt heavy and full and her body was tight as a bow, aching for release before he finally set the camera down and stepped into its view. She moaned out longingly, wanting to feel his cock throbbing and pistoning deep inside of her, plunging deeper and deeper, stretching her wider and bringing them both to climax.
Her thighs were wet with her sexual juices and sweat, and she stroked her clit faster and harder with each passing moment, the burning in her loins overwhelming already as she waited whatever cues she could take in order for her to stick a finger into her pussy already. She alternated between stroking her breast and thighs with her free hand, pinching and twisting the pink nub between her thumb and index finger, stroking over the pink skin of her areola and snaking down to her sweaty and moist thighs, each stroke edging closer and closer against her swollen pussy lips, the puffy skin just ripe for the stroking, and she gasped out softly as she felt the base of her thumb brush up against the outer lip of her labia.
Her eyes still glued to the screen, she saw him. Gloriously naked, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat he was masculinity personified to Emily, at least in her eyes. From the way his muscles rippled as he stalked towards the begging blonde, to the way he gripped her in his powerful arms, pulling her to his chest and crushing his lips unto hers. Emily was riveted; this was better than any other porno she'd seen. Finally, he spread the blonde's thighs and buried himself inside her to the hilt in one thrust. Emily let her self go and plunged a finger inside her aching pussy and climaxing instantly, her walls clamping around her finger in a vice-like grip. Her eyes shut tightly; as her head tossed back in bliss, she knew she'd never look at Marcus the same way again.