Emily's Story Pt. 02

Tom quickly undid himself and unzipped his fly. With his trousers open, he delved inside his boxer shorts to grasp his cock and as soon as his right hand was around his length he started pumping.

It was a satisfying feeling, the warm skin of his palm and fingers gripping his shaft, moving back and forth with well-practiced efficiency. But of course it was nothing on the soft lips and wet tongue of Emily's mouth. His hands showed the marks from where they'd got cut up on the wall at the end of the Curran's back garden. The scabbed abrasions rubbed the skin of his cock as he worked away at himself. He didn't mind that though.

He moved vigorously back and forth along his length. There were times when it was nice to draw things out and bring yourself to climax carefully and slowly. But there were also times not to mess about, when you just needed that quick release. This was one of those times.

Memories of his last climax came flooding back. Tom could almost picture Emily on her knees before him now. He remembered how his jizz had covered her face and dribbled down over her breasts. He hoped desperately that it wouldn't be long before he saw those breasts in the flesh again. They were something else.

A new picture was conjured in his mind - Emily's breasts swinging rhythmically as he pounded her body. Tom wondered if she would scream.

It didn't take long. Soon he was clenching his buttocks and gritting his teeth. He felt the surge from deep in his loins and quickened the pace of his stroke to take himself over the edge. Blissful relief swiftly followed as his load spilled out over his hand.

Tom stood for a few moments holding himself with his right hand, his left hand cupping his balls, slightly breathless from all the pumping, his mind still indulging in mental images of Emily's cum-covered face. Compared to the previous evening his ejaculation had been pathetic, but it provided the release that was needed.

It was just then, as thoughts of future liaisons with Emily still floated in his mind, that Tom realised there was a problem with that - he had no means of contacting her.

As he got himself cleaned up in his private bathroom and straightened out his attire, Tom recalled to mind how the evening with Emily had been brought to a sudden conclusion. There'd been no chance of exchanging pleasantries or of saying goodbye to each other. Almost discovered in the act, they'd had to move quickly to escape her parents. The idea of swapping phone numbers, email addresses or of making future arrangements was far from his mind as he'd sprinted out of the Curran's back garden and climbed into the alleyway beyond.

Tom sighed and looked blankly at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. There must be a way of contacting her. But he would need to be careful about this. It was imperative to avoid being found out.

He returned to his office, put his phone on the desk and sank back into his chair wondering whether Emily had spent as much of her time that day thinking about their evening together as he. He wondered how she felt after the event. He wondered what she would think of the idea that somewhere across London, a thirty-four year old man had just jerked off to the memory of her sucking his cock.

***

Tom wasn't the only person masturbating at the headquarters of BZI that day. Sophie, however, had to take the more dangerous approach of using the communal facilities. She was concealed inside the end cubicle of the ladies with the door locked.

Pleasuring herself at work was not a habit that Sophie liked to pursue with much frequency. It only happened on the odd occasion that she felt the need so strongly that she had to do something about it there and then. This was one such moment. Inevitably, there was the occasional interruption as other female employees at the office came in to use the bathroom. But nobody seemed to notice that the end cubicle was occupied the whole time.

Tom Ridgeway was the problem. Being around him all the time could get her going like nothing else. The sexual frustration was heightened by the fact that she knew nothing was ever likely to come of her feelings for him. Rather than dampening her desire for him, this seemed only to accentuate her attraction towards him, which was somewhat inconvenient really. To anybody else this might have seemed counter-intuitive, but for Sophie the fact that Tom was so unreachable only made the idea of being with him all the more stimulating.

Her thoughts had been set off by the arrival of Charlotte that morning. All those previous jealousies Sophie had harboured for Autumn and her relationship with Tom were today being brought back to life.

Sophie had known all along that Tom was fucking the last intern. Every day they worked together she used to envy this girl for the way she'd caught Tom's attention. What must it have been like for her? Sophie had spent hours wondering about the intimacies of their affair. When and where did they do it? How did he like to take her? What did it feel like to have him for a lover? Sometimes she played a little mind game with herself and imagined being in the intern's shoes for a day. If she could have swapped positions with her even for one day then just maybe that would have been enough to satisfy all of her raging desires for Tom. Simply to know what it was like to be with him for one night might have been all she needed.

But this notion was nonsense. Being honest with herself, Sophie knew that being with Tom only once would not have been good enough for her. One night with him would have left her wanting more. The agonising taste of his passion forever to be denied her again - perhaps it was better never to know?

These were the sorts of ruminations that stalked her day after day and, being brutally honest with herself, could sometimes make her life quite miserable. Things had improved for a while when the intern had left the company to complete a final year of her business degree back at Oxford University. Getting Autumn out of her hair had meant that Sophie didn't have to think about her affair with Tom every day and she started to put her life back on track. She'd even been on a few dates, sometimes managing to get through most of the date without dreaming of being with a different man.

But now Charlotte had arrived and Sophie's mind had been racing all day. She'd been thinking about what it would be like to be in Charlotte's shoes when Tom seduced her (which she felt sure was inevitably going to happen). Her heart was sent racing as she considered that excitement of their first time together.

Throughout the day images of Tom ripping the clothes off the young intern kept popping in to Sophie's head. It wasn't long before she was picturing the young blonde girl bent over the desk in Tom's office as he pounded her from behind.

It was this image that filled her mind as she started running her hands over her body. Hastily, she unbuttoned her blouse so that she could fondle her tits and as she did so she tried to insert herself into the scenario in Charlotte's place. Sadly though, it made the fantasy less believable. Still, there was something highly charged about the thought of another girl being fucked silly.

Sophie sometimes found herself taken aback by the places her mind seemed to take her. This was one of those instances that caused her to have doubts about herself. For the most part she was quite sure that she knew her own desires and understood her sexuality very clearly. She knew what turned herself on or not. But then it surprised her at times to discover what was really going on in her mind, especially when she was filled with thoughts like this - about how exciting it was to imagine Charlotte's pert body contorted with pleasure. Was that normal? Did all straight women experience these sorts of thoughts?

But she'd been down this road. She'd experimented. If there were any genuine bisexual tendencies in her then she would have surely uncovered them. During her university years on the occasional night out she'd tried making out with other girls and yes, she'd enjoyed herself. But usually it was something she'd done to impress a hot guy. A girl who made out with another girl could get a guy really worked up. But she hadn't wanted to take things any further. Or had she?

She'd tried other things too, like masturbating to lesbian porn, to see if it turned her on in any way. Even back then Sophie felt pretty certain of the fact that she was straight but she felt it would be good to explore her own sexuality and try things to see what happened. But watching lesbian pornography seemed only to reaffirm her heterosexuality. It wasn't that she didn't like seeing lesbian lovers in action. It was just that it did nothing for her compared to watching a girl with a man.

She watched a bit of porn from time to time, but her preference was for reading erotic fiction. So she tried this too. She had a go at playing with herself whilst reading some lesbian based erotic fiction to see if that had any effect where the pornography hadn't. However the result was similar. Though she found the material perfectly readable and, as a matter of fact, quite pleasant, given the choice she would much rather have been reading about a male-female relationship.

The strange thing was that when she watched porn it was almost always the girl who was the focus of her attention. Sophie felt she could always tell when a girl was faking it and if she started to get that vibe then she would soon turn to something else. But when a girl was genuinely into it, when she was seriously turned on, it made for exciting viewing. Seeing the pleasure being experienced by another female and trying to imagine herself in their position was what excited Sophie.

Watching porn was not the norm for Sophie no more than pleasuring herself at work was. She might feel the need to watch something when the mood caught her, but the vast majority of the time it was words and descriptions she was after, not images. Reading erotic fiction was something she normally did online. She had a few of the mainstream published books tucked away under the bed at home but for Sophie there was something particularly sensual about reading amateur erotic fiction. When you read a story written by an ordinary person and you started to discover how the same things that turned you on were arousing to someone else it was both thrilling and strangely reassuring.

Ordinarily, Sophie would sit down at her computer two or three times a week to read. She liked to have at least an hour or two at her disposal and she liked to be wearing something desirable when she started out, silky smooth lingerie and a pretty dress perhaps. After reading for a little while and when she was ready she liked to begin touching herself gently to get warmed up. When the time was right, perhaps at the conclusion of a particularly good read, she would transfer across to the bed. Some or all of her clothes would come off and she would close her eyes and picture herself in the scenes she'd just read about. When she was ready she liked to finish herself off with her favourite vibrator.

This was her preferred method. But desperation that day had led her to barricade herself into the last cubicle of the bathroom and she had nothing at her disposal except her racing mind and her practiced hands.

These hands sought their target now as she hitched up her skirt and started to rub. Her thong was getting wet. She slid it down her thighs and returned her fingers to her bare pussy. Her breathing came rapidly.

In her exploration of amateur erotic fiction Sophie had come across a great deal of sexual ideas. People out there had all sorts of fetishes that they wrote about. Some of the content she came across in the online world was truly bizarre and some of it was downright disturbing. But there was plenty of stuff she could enjoy, even if there were a few things to steer clear of.

There were still a few things out there about which Sophie hadn't yet managed to make up her mind. One of the areas around which she remained uncertain was the realm of bondage and restraint. Online erotic fiction was full of this sort of thing and on the whole Sophie didn't go in for it, especially when punishment and pain started to be introduced. But just occasionally, when the mood was right and the story well written, Sophie found the idea, for instance, of a young innocent tied to a bed frame, could really turn her on. To be completely bound, unable to move as another person took advantage of you, had complete control over you, this was to her mind quite an enticing idea.

Half-joking with herself, Sophie wondered if tying Tom up would be the only way she could get what she wanted out of him. But once the thought had occurred she could not shake it off again. A seed had been planted and now all she could think about was Tom, stripped of his clothes, his hands cuffed behind his back and his legs bound with rope to an item of sturdy furniture. He might struggle to escape but to no avail. Realising that he couldn't break loose he would simply remain stock still and helpless as she ran her hands over his body. What if by the end of it all Sophie had shown him such a good time that he found himself falling for her? The idea was intoxicating.

Sophie wasn't normally hot on giving blowjobs. Most dicks were just too big to go sticking in your mouth. But she couldn't deny that there was something really quite sensual about it. After all, didn't she rather like to have oral sex the other way round? The touch of lips and tongue - it was so erotic.

When a man was trussed up and powerless though, that was a time in which she might indulge herself in a bit of cock sucking. She imagined getting onto her knees in front of a naked Tom Ridgeway and taking his cock in her mouth. At first he wasn't sure he wanted her, but soon she was changing his mind for him. She swirled her tongue and glided back and forth along his length making him moan and groan with pleasure. As she looked up into his eyes she started to see the desire growing within him. She pretended to stop, left him hanging for a little while. He begged her, pleaded for her to go on. He needed her so bad, he said.

Sophie's fingers began to move more rapidly. By this point they were running wet. She stood up and placed one foot on top of the toilet, hitching her skirt up further so as to open up her groin and allow her better access. Her fingers were working feverishly. Her face grew flushed. She bit her lip.

In her fantasy she was also playing with herself. Tom enjoyed watching her. She rubbed herself with her right hand while her left hand pumped his cock. They'd both had enough of the blowjob by this point. They just needed him to cum. Both of them needed it. Tom had a load of spunk with her name on it. She wanted him to shower her in it and pumping him furiously with her hand seemed like the quickest way to get there.

Sophie collapsed backwards as she went weak with pleasure. Her head made quite a bang as it collided with the wall of the cubicle. She knew there was nobody in the ladies' at the moment but she hoped with all her heart that there was no one coming along soon. Not now she was so close.

She returned her thoughts to her naked Tom, cuffed and bound, ready to cum. His guttural tones informed her he was ready. She leant backwards and finished him off with a final burst of speed until he was there. Beautiful lines of creamy cum burst from the end of his manhood and covered her neck. The thought of it was enough to push her over the edge.

Sophie became aware that her breathless panting had inadvertently turned into a soft ecstatic moaning. Her body contracted and clenched down.

Then something awful happened. She heard the door open. Sophie gasped. Footsteps could be heard entering. But she was already climaxing. It was too late now and Sophie didn't tend to have particularly quiet orgasms.

In a desperate bid to stifle the squeaks that were making a concerted effort to get out of her, she bit down harder and harder on her bottom lip. The pain certainly seemed to help, at least acting as something of a distraction from the intense pleasure that reverberated about her body. Even so, one or two odd little whining noises escaped her.

The funny thing was that even with the imminent peril of being discovered her mind was still overwhelmed by that final image from her fantasy of being showered in Tom's cum as she pleasured herself to orgasm.

'Sophie? Is that you?'

It was Charlotte. Fucking Charlotte.

'Are... are you alright?' she asked.

Sophie opened her mouth but the only sound she made was a gasp. Her body shook slightly. The walls of the cubicle shook with her.

'Hello?'

Despairingly, she tried to wrest control of her body and her mind and bring herself back down to earth. Problem was she was way up in the stratosphere.

'Sophie?'

She tried again to reply and opened her mouth but as her body reverberated with pleasure all that came out of her was a long drawn out 'oooohhh.'

'Are you upset?' Charlotte asked, and then waited for a while. Sophie waited too. 'Look, if you need to talk... or if there's anything I can do,' she offered.

Ah, bless her, Sophie thought to herself. She thinks I'm crying. But she had half a mind to go and tell Charlotte the truth. Sophie Rochester wasn't the kind of woman who went off crying in the bathroom.

Sophie closed her eyes and waited for the thrill of her orgasm to die down. It was such an inconvenience this. Normally she would have gone on playing with herself, drawing out the pleasure as long as she could, riding the crest of the wave. But the arrival of that pesky intern had spoilt all that.

Her breathing was settling out. She took a breath, cleared her throat and was pleased to find something like her normal voice again. 'No, I'm ok really,' she said. 'I just had a bit of a choking fit.'

It was a lame excuse and Charlotte would know she was lying. But she couldn't know what had really been going on behind the closed door of that toilet cubicle and that suited Sophie just fine.

***

Emily was alone at last.

It had been a full-on day. Things got off to a bad start at breakfast time when the mood had been frosty to say the least. It seemed that her parents had argued again, which was a shame because they had seemed in better spirits after coming back from their anniversary meal out together. But it can't have helped that they all seemed to be running late that morning.

Later at college the teasing had picked up where it had left off a couple of days ago. Only now there was an added irony to Samantha and Naomi's jibes given what had happened to Emily last night (not that the girls would have guessed anything about that of course.) Needless to say, Emily didn't give anything away to indicate that she was arriving in to college that day a changed person. She chuckled to herself to think what the girls would have made of it if they had known. All their obsessing over Mr Harris and she had bagged herself a real-life equivalent - Tom Ridgeway, surely just as handsome an older man as their English teacher.

When she'd woken up that morning she felt numb. She had to really think carefully to discern if her recollections of giving a blowjob to her Dad's boss had been real or imagined. In those puzzling few moments after waking, still bleary eyed and muddy with sleep, she felt certain it must have been the contents of a rather saucy dream that filled her mind as opposed to real life memories. But slowly she realised this wasn't the case. It had actually happened. It wasn't a dream.

During the course of the day, she hadn't found much opportunity to dwell on what had happened with Tom Ridgeway. Emily felt like she needed time to herself to think it through and organise her emotions. She knew her feelings were so confused that it would take some time to work it all out. But the events of the day took over. So she kept the memory to the back of her mind and continued with her day as much as she could in a normal manner.