Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 03byArrowThroughTheHeart©
I awake with Emma in my arms, gazing at me with love in her eyes.
"Good morning," she smiles, and all the incredible events of yesterday flood back into my mind.
"Yes it is, you gorgeous creature," I reply, and she giggles. I kiss her, tenderly.
"Nice dream?" she asks. "You were smiling in your sleep."
"It was wonderful -- I was dreaming about you."
She smiles and kisses me. "Good answer."
"You were being a naughty girl."
"Really? That doesn't sound like me," she says with a sly grin.
"I was dreaming about all those guys you said you sucked off when you were younger."
"Ah, that would explain this, then." She grasps my engorged prick with her delicate hand.
I groan. "Tell me about it. Your first time and all your cock-sucking!"
She squeezes my dick. "It wasn't that many!"
"Ok. My first time was terrible. It was with my first proper boyfriend. We'd been together about eight months and he was drunk, and it just hurt, and he came inside me so I was panicked thinking I'd get pregnant..."
"How old were you?" I interrupt.
"Fourteen. Nearly fifteen." She shrugs. "It was a mistake, and it put me right off! After that, I went out with my friends a lot more -- like five nights a week -- and because they were always hooking up with guys, I kind of did the same. But because I thought I didn't like sex, I blew them instead."
"You must have been popular!" I say.
She shrugs, embarrassed. "I don't know. I stopped doing it when I woke up in some strange guy's bed with no memory of how I got there. He told me we fucked and I just completely started crying and everything..." She shakes her head at the memory. "I must have still been drunk 'cos he convinced me to do it again. And that was the first time I liked it."
She's still slowly, leisurely stroking my dick. I reach between her legs, finding her moist clam, and I gently play, slipping a finger inside.
"So how many guys have you had sex with?" I breathe.
"You were lucky thirteen," she says, wiggling her groin on my finger.
"So you're not so much of a slut after all, then?" I wink.
"Well, I met The Boyfriend fairly soon after, so..." I slide a second finger into her. "I sucked off a lot more."
"I don't know exactly..." she whimpers.
"Tell me," I whisper.
"Forty or fifty, maybe."
I pull her on top of me and spin her around so we're in a 69, and I bury my face in her soaking pussy. She keeps stroking my cock, but faster now, and she licks it from base to tip.
"Actually, it was more like seventy," she mumbles.
I start thrusting up into her mouth as I force three fingers into her tight cunt.
"Oh God," she screams, "it was over a hundred."
I hammer my fingers into her. She pumps my pole hard.
"And for most of them," she pants, "I swallowed their cum."
"SLUT!" I shout as we orgasm together, my ejaculate filling her mouth, and her's drenching mine. I enjoy the post-orgasmic bliss, caressing her bum and covering it with little kisses, as she fondles my cock until it softens.
She turns back to lie alongside me, shows me my semen in her mouth, and swallows with a wide grin.
"You're my naughty, sexy, dirty little slut, aren't you?" I cuddle her to me.
She sits up, suddenly serious. "Yeah, about that," she says.
"Listen, you have to know that I love you, I really do..." she begins.
I finish, "...but you don't want to leave The Boyfriend."
She smiles sympathetically. "Not yet. I might, I don't know. I hope you understand it's a big risk for me. We've been together twelve years, we've got this house and... I do love him."
I nod. I don't know what to say.
"This doesn't change what we were going to do today. Y'know, if we can spend that week together, I really think I'll be able to make the right decision. I could make a decision now but it might not be the right one. Do you think you can be patient for me?" she earnestly searches for my eyes, but I don't want to look at her in case I cry.
"Anything for you," I whisper.
She smiles and hugs me, and I hold her tight, not wanting to let go.
I'm waiting in the car, around the corner from the emergency clinic, while Emma gets the morning after pill. She's been gone 45 minutes already, it'll be lunchtime soon if she doesn't hurry...
Here she comes, sashaying across the road, and I take a moment to enjoy the view. She's wearing a summery, flowery, floaty, strapless maxi dress, with a thin belt that emphasises her slim waist and accentuates her bodacious bosom. The dress flows down to the ankle straps of her heeled sandals. Her hair's clipped back away from her beautiful face and flows loose around her bare shoulders, and fashionable huge sunglasses hide her eyes that I know have a hint of the dark eye-liner that I told her make her grey-blues look extra smoking hot.
And with the morning British summer sun shining from directly behind, her dress is slightly translucent, and I can see what I already knew -- no underwear. She's so fucking sexy, even when in girly-girl cute mode.
I get out of the car and ask, "Everything ok?"
She nods and smiles. "The shop is a couple of streets down, we can walk it."
"Ok," I reply, and we set off. I let my hand drift down to her swaying bottom and rest it there, but she swats it away.
"Behave yourself when we're in public!" she playfully scolds.
I make an act of sulking, which makes her giggle, but I do as she asks.
We reach the shop quicker than I thought. There's nothing outside to give away what it is -- the windows are blacked out and it doesn't even have a name.
We walk inside, my eyes adjusting to the gloom. It seems we're the only customers. This front section of the store is mostly magazines and dvds, but it goes back a surprisingly long way, and I can see a plethora of sex toys and kinky clothing. The young student behind the front desk tries to act cool, but I can see him eyeing up Emma.
"How did you know about this place?" I ask her.
"This is where Cathy brought me to look for that bridesmaids dress, remember?"
Cathy is Emma's firecracker of a friend that I've never met -- but have heard plenty of dirty tales about. She's also the girl who wanted Emma to wear a pink latex tube dress to her wedding.
"Is it here? I'm buying you that dress!" I tell her.
She giggles. "I remember the way your eyes boggled when I first told you about that."
"I'll be honest," I say, "the idea of you wearing that dress with your silver high heels has fueled more wanking sessions than anything else."
She blushes and leads me to the back of the store. "The boots are back here, let's get what we came here for first."
I'm pleasantly surprised by the range and variety they've got. "Which ones do you like?" she asks.
"They have to be over the knee," I say. She rolls her eyes with a grin. "Shiny black, pointy toe, not platform, but with a high heel..."
There are a few styles with that description. The question is, what material? I'm vetoing suede, but can't decide between leather or latex.
"Ok, well these latex ones, I don't think there's any time I could ever wear them out. But these," she picks up a pair of matt leather ones, "I dunno, maybe over a pair of jeans?"
"I said they've got to be shiny."
She shrugs and, as she pushes some to one side to put them back, I spot the perfect pair.
"We have a winner."
The student from the front desk has shuffled up behind us. "Er, can I help you with anything?" he stutters.
"Yeah, thanks, do you have these in a size 5 please?" I ask.
"I'll go and have a look." He trots off.
"Y'know, he looks a little familiar," says Emma.
"If he knew who you were, he'd probably have said something," I say, trying to put her mind at rest.
"I dunno, he did kind of stare when I walked in, maybe we know each other."
"He stared at you because you're a cute, gorgeous woman walking into a sex shop. It wouldn't surprise me if he's back there right now whacking off."
Emma laughs and swats my arm, just as he returns.
"Do you want any help trying them on?" he asks.
"No," says Emma, but I immediately over-rule her.
"Yes, that would be great thanks."
She shoots daggers at me, to which I smile and wink, but she sits down (a little carefully, her bum is still sore from last night) and unties her sandals whilst the student unpacks the boots.
He unzips and holds one open for her, and she slides a petite foot into the sexy leather. She winces.
The student immediately apologises profusely, "I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I'm really..."
"No, no, it's ok, I've just got this problem with my foot. It hurts when I bend it but it's usually ok once I've got them on."
The student breathes a sigh of relief but is quickly distracted as Emma starts lifting her long dress so he can put the boot on. His eyes are fixed between her legs and, although she's trying to keep them together as much as possible, he must be getting at least a partial view of her newly-shaven slit.
Her foot is about in, but the student is struggling with the zip. Emma notcies where the student is looking and again scolds me with her eyes, but I'm enjoying watching.
"I think they're too small," Emma finally says, "have you got the next size up?"
"I think so, lemme check," stutters the student, who slips the boot back off, throws it back its box, and hurries away, trying to hide his obvious erection.
"When he comes back, have a quick peek -- he's got wood." I grin.
"You are so naughty," Emma tells me, shaking her head but not able to hide her smile.
"Me? You knew we were coming to get these boots, and you chose to go without underwear..."
"That was your idea!" she protests.
I laugh as the student returns with another box strategically carried in front of his groin.
"Genius," I silently mouth to Emma, pointing at myself, and again she shakes her head.
This time she doesn't wait, pulls her dress above her knees and halfway up her thighs, and stares at me defiantly, sticking her tongue out.
I'm trying not to laugh at the student as he struggles to get the boot unzipped without tearing his eyes from Emma's crotch. Amusing as this is, I'm hard too.
He holds the boot out for her, and again she winces as she slides into the leather. The zip goes up much easier this time, and the student runs his hands along the boots to smooth them out, taking a little longer than is really necessary.
"How does that feel?" he asks, and I smile at the double meaning.
"Really nice, actually," replies Emma, and I'm not sure which question she's answering. I notice her legs seem to have fallen a little further apart though, and her dress is a little higher up her thighs.
The student quickly helps her with the other boot, zipping it and smoothing it out, and he doesn't stop until I say: "Why don't you try walking in them?" and as he stands, disappointed, I whisper to him, "Give us a minute, ok?"
He nods and vanishes, probably to watch Emma on the security monitors.
Emma walks up and down the aisle, the 5-inch heels making her look really tall and slim, sticking out her bum and tightening her tummy.
"In that dress," I tell her, "they could be ankle boots for all anyone knows."
"Pretty slutty ankle boots," she says, "except they're not, they're full-on hooker boots."
The pointy toe, the wet-look material and the thin, high high heel all scream sex. I love them.
"Pull your dress up, let's see them properly."
She gathers the dress, easing it up her legs. The boots fit snugly all the way to the top, accentuating the shape of her lovely legs, and reach a good few inches above her knees.
"They are fucking hot. You are fucking hot." I say. "Do you like them?"
"I don't know when I'd wear them." she shrugs.
"Fuck that. Do you like them?"
"Actually, I really do. I'm surprised, but... they feel really sexy."
I smile. Excellent.
"I swear that kid could see how wet I was getting," she giggles.
"You gave him quite a treat!" I laugh, picking up her sandles. "Now, let's see about that bridesmaids dress."
Emma sighs. "You're encouragable."
She quickly leads us to the correct section and finds the dress, but...
"They don't have it in my size," she says.
"You're fucking kidding me." I'm gutted, but grab one anyway. "We'll see if they can order one in."
It does look incredibly fucking hot -- a very short, very tight, not-quite translucent pink latex tube, basically. I could easily believe someone could wear it as a skirt. As a dress, it will barely cover anything.
We continue toward the front of the store but Emma stops suddenly. In the butt-plug section.
I slide my spare hand around her waist and over her pert bottom, giving it a little squeeze. "So last night isn't going to be a one time thing, eh?" I tease.
"Did I tell you about my friend Mandy? We were at lunch at work one day, and she started telling me about this guy she picked up that weekend and, apparently, he fisted her arse!"
"Yeah! Why she felt the need to tell me this, I have no idea, but I always kind of doubted her. But looking at some of these..." she points at some of the larger butt-plugs on display.
"I'll get you one if you want one."
She peruses the selection, and picks up a monster that's 8 inches around at its widest point.
"See, I don't think there's any way I could ever fit that up there. You felt huge."
"I guess you build up to it. Why don't you get a couple of different sizes and see how you go?"
She nods and, after a couple of seconds of thought, hurriedly picks up a smallish metal plug and decent-sized black inflatible plug. She smiles at me, embarrassed, and totters to the front desk. I grab some lube for her, and follow.
The student's eyes pop out of his head as Emma puts the anal toys on the counter.
"These, the boots, and this dress in a size 8, if you can get that in please?" I say.
"Um, yeah, we can do that, er, but we can have it made to order if you like, so it, er, fits as you want it?" he stammers.
"Ok, yeah, let's do that," I say.
He can't suppress his glee as he grabs his tape measure.
"Let me just get some measurements."
Emma rolls her eyes at me but looks amused as the student fumbles around measuring her trim waist and flared hips, then seems really unsure of himself as he does her chest, brushing her breasts more than once. I can see her hard nipples poking through her summer dress.
"Ok," he says as he runs the tape down from her armpit, "now you're pretty tall, and the dress would normally be about 24 inches long, which would end here," and he puts his finger high on her thigh. "Is that ok?"
"Yes," says Emma.
"No," says I. "Show us 22 inches."
"Oh my God," Emma laughs, "you can't be serious?"
"You can wear it a little lower at the top too," I smile.
The student holds his finger at 22 inches, and I like what I see. "How far does it come down at the back?" I ask.
He moves the tape around. "Twenty two inches would be here," he says, running a finger just below her arse, copping a feel again. I think I hear a slight moan from Emma, and she steps forward.
"I think that'll do," she says.
"Ok," I say, "make it at twenty inches."
Emma just laughs while the student writes down the details.
"That will be one hundred and forty pounds for the dress..."
"Oh my God, you can't spend that," Emma says, "I'll never even wear it out."
"It's worth it," I tell her. To the student: "Is it ok if she wears the boots now?"
"Yes, I just need to get the price and security tags off. They're on the zip." Which is, of course, halfway up Emma's thigh.
Emma grins and, without waiting to be asked, lifts her dress above her waist, far higher than she needs to, her cunt on display to the whole store, red, wet and swollen. I'm slightly disappointed there are no other customers to enjoy it.
The student is frozen, lost in a trance, until Emma's tinkling giggle wakes him, and he hurriedly cuts the tags off the boots.
"And the boots are one hundred and twenty," he says, and I nod, nonchalantly.
As I pay, Emma fills out her address details on the form for the dress order, and the student puts her butt-plugs in an unmarked bag.
"Thanks for your help," I say as we turn to leave.
"Thank you," he replies, a little too enthusiastically, and then "See ya, Emma."
She freezes. "How do you know my name?" she asks, puzzled.
"I'm Alan -- I went to school with your brother, remember?"
"Oh my God, I knew I knew you!" Her face blushes a fierce shade of red, and I have to push her out of the door.
Outside, she's all a-fluster.
"Oh no, no, no, what if he tells The Boyfriend? Or my brother?! Oh shit, shit, shit..."
"It's ok," I tell her, "if they disown you, I'll take you in."
Shocked, she stares at me. "This is serious."
"It's alright, honestly..."
"How can you say that? He saw my pussy! Worse, I SHOWED him my pussy! Oh God." Then, suddenly, a light bulb switches on in her head. "Wait here."
She disappears back inside. Tempted as I am to follow, she told me to wait and I know better than to disobey her when she's in this kind of mood.
It's only three minutes later that Emma hurries back out, grabs my hand and leads me away from the shop, her heels clicking quickly on the pavement.
"Everything ok?" I ask.
"I know this quiet little place around the corner, maybe we can get through lunch without somebody I know seeing me naked."
Emma drains her glass, her second of the meal, and starts on the third that she'd already ordered. She hasn't said a word except to order food and drink since we left the shop, and it doesn't seem like she wants to.
I must admit, she's brought us to a nice place. We're on one of three tables outside, but it's sheltered from the people walking past by a head-height (when you're sat down) hedge. The waitress clears the dishes from the only other table that was occupied, and leaves us alone.
"Are you ok?" I ask Emma.
"I don't know," she says.
"I'm sure he won't tell anyone we went in there."
"I'm sure he won't too, now," she says.
"What did you say to him?"
"You'll hate me if I tell you." Her eyes fill up, and she blinks rapidly, trying to stop from crying.
"Hey," I say, taking her hand, "nothing could make me hate you. No-thing. I love you and I always will."
She smiles meekly, takes a deep, wavering breath, and blurts out, "I sucked him off and said if he told anyone, I'd tell his girlfriend."
My face must have been a picture. A picture of genuine shock.
"And you know the worst thing?" she continues, "It's not that I blackmailed him, it's not that I cheated on The Boyfriend again, and it's not that I feel like I cheated on you..."
She looks me in the eye, and I can see how sorry she is.
"...it's that I'm still so fucking turned on."
"That's a bad thing?" I ask.
"Of course it is!" she cries. "I went behind the back of the people I love, and I enjoyed it!"
She wipes a stray tear from her cheek. I lift her hand and kiss it.
"Emma, I don't care. In fact, I love that you enjoyed it."
She looks at me, confused.
"I don't mind you doing these things. Did you see me trying to stop him from looking up your dress when putting the boots on?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "I don't understand. Why don't you mind? The Boyfriend's always trying to get me to cover up."
"I reckon he's just scared that someone else will steal you away from him, so he tries to hide you. But you're too beautiful and too fucking hot for that." She blushes. "As far as I'm concerned, as long as you came home to me afterward, you could do anything, or anyone, you wanted."
Her jaw drops. "You can't be serious?"
"I swear to you. I just want to see you happy. It's why I agreed to give you a baby even though it would kill me inside that you were bringing it up with him. You could come home having gangbanged a stadium full of guys, but as long as you actually came home to me..." I shrug. "I find it really very fucking hot."