Fantasising About Emma - Donor Ch. 04

"I've got to come along for that," I protest.

"No, because I want what I get to be a surprise."

I sigh. "Give me a clue?"

She ponders. "Ok. I'm probably going to get a couple more toys... I've been using the inflatable plug we got last time, and I want to try something bigger."

My eyebrows climb my forehead, and I smile.

"Well, you remember what I told you Mandy did?" she asks.

I nod; she leans in close, her lips tickling my ear as she whispers:

"I keep thinking that, if I'm going to be the best slut I can be for you, then I need to be able to take your fist up my arse."

Bombshell dropped, she spins away from me, unlocking her car.

"I'll be working late our first day back at work next week, so I'll webcam the Thursday after."

And with that, she's gone. I'm still frozen in shock. My cute little best friend wants my fist up her arse.

Oh yes.

***

SIX WEEKS UNTIL HALF TERM

Again, Emma didn't take any of my calls or return my messages. Twelve whole days without a single murmur from her -- almost as though she'd dropped off the planet. She wasn't even updating her social media status.

I raced home, and go straight to her webcam.

And there she is. Her normal dark eye make-up; deep red lipstick. Her cheeks a little flushed. Naked but for a butterfly necklace, the first gift I ever bought her, and her pierced pussy and nipples and, oh wow, a new navel piercing too. And she's freshly shaved, by the looks of it.

"Hi there," she says. "Y'know, I still think I look a little bare. I'm gonna get a little tattoo right here." She circles her finger on a small area about an inch above and to her left of her slit.

"That would be great. In fact, I've got an idea for something that would look great there. I'll sketch it out and email it to you later."

"Ok." She absentmindedly strokes her damp lips.

"So, how have you been?" I ask. "It seems like ages."

"Yeah," she sighs, "I've been good. Busy," she says with a dirty little grin.

"Got another new piercing, I see?"

"Yeah. You like?" she poses, running her fingers around her stomach and chest, across her butterfly tattoo and hard pierced nips.

"I do, very much. You're running out of places to pierce!"

"I know," she giggles, "that's why I've moved onto tattoos..."

"So, what else have you been up to?"

"Erm, have you checked your credit card statement recently?" she smiles, coyly.

"No, but I did get a call from them, wanting to check what they thought were some suspicious transactions."

"Oops!" she giggles. "That was me."

"I gathered. I just said it was all fine."

"Thank you!" She blows me a kiss. "I didn't mean to spend that much, but my pretty pussy started thinking for me."

"That's ok. I said there's about 6k there for you, and you've left me with four, so..."

"Actually, I went a bit wild again on the weekend. You've only got two and a half left."

"Bloody hell!" I exclaim. "What have you been buying?"

"Well, things like these aren't cheap."

She lifts her feet onto the table to show me she's wearing Jimmy Choo patent nude leather pointy toe pumps with a 4.5-inch heel. They are very fucking hot.

"These were three hundred and seventy five pounds. I could return them if you want me to?" she pouts.

"Nah, don't worry about it," I stammer.

She smiles, naughtily. "I wore them to work today. I think the boys liked them." She winks.

"I bet they did!"

"I could hear them whispering about whether or not I had nipple piercings when they left! I was wearing a tight top and, oops, forgot my bra."

"Teasing slut! How is work going?"

"It's going great, thanks. Do you know what I got my year 11 students to do on their first day?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"I got them to design a tramp stamp for me".

I guffaw. "You're kidding, right?"

"It was mostly for a laugh, but there were some really good ones. Sooo..."

She stands and slowly turns around and, good God, she's got a tattoo on her lower back!

A bold tribal-style design, not too huge and heavy, all in black, with a butterfly at it's centre, it's almost the whole width of her back but very low, so it could be covered by high-waisted jeans or skirts, and the arrow at the base points and stretches into her arse crack... hold on, arrow?

She's watching over her shoulder for my reaction, and she must like it because she's grinning. "The arrow," I ask, "is that because of my name?"

"Yep. I told them their designs had to incorporate a butterfly and an arrow, and there were three I really liked and couldn't choose between, so I went with the guy I fancy most!"

"Fuck me," I mutter.

"Is that a 'fuck me' of approval?" she asks, grinning.

"I thought you'd only get a small one, but that's fucking brilliant. I love it."

"I'm glad," she says. "It makes me feel like you're always with me."

I cannot tell you how touched I am by that. It brings a tear to my eye.

"That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me. I love you."

"I love you too," she says.

She sits down again, carefully.

"What did The Boyfriend say when he saw it? And the piercings too?"

"He's not talking to me."

"Oh, that bad, eh?"

"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "You don't want to waste our time together talking about him, do you?"

"Fuck no!"

She grins.

"Did you get the bridesmaids dress ok?" I ask.

"Yes, but you're not seeing it until we meet up," she teases.

"Does it fit ok?"

"It's obscene; there's no way I can ever wear it in public. You'll love it!" she laughs. "I got a couple of other things while I was there..."

She disappears from view for a second. "Remember this?"

She returns with the huge butt-plug we saw when we first went to the sex shop.

"You just keep blowing my mind," I tell her. "You aren't seriously telling me you can get that up your arse now?"

"I haven't yet, but I thought tonight might be the night."

She kneels on her chair, facing away from me, her new tattoo and sexy heels coming back into view.

She smiles coyly. "I was warming up before you came on," she admits, "so I'm ready."

"Ok," I breathe, shuffling closer to my monitor for a better look.

She seems nervous. It just makes her look more cute.

She gets herself comfortable and moves the massive tool to her naughtiest hole, which I can see is already lubed up and gaping slightly. The first bit is relatively easy, and she gets over half into her quite quickly. But this monster is 8 inches around. I seriously doubt she can do it, and don't want her to hurt herself.

"Honey..." I start.

"I nearly got in trouble at work today," she interrupts. "The boy who designed my tattoo, the one I fancy -- actually, there's about twelve in there that are nice, it's a good year -- anyway, this boy, it was his sixteenth birthday today..."

She continues trying to force the plug further inside, wiggling and pushing hard.

"...and somebody suggested I sing him happy birthday. So I did. Marilyn Monroe; Mr President-style."

She grunts as she gives the toy a shove. Still a couple of inches to go.

"And I was sat on his desk and about to slide onto his lap, when the headteacher came in!"

She jiggles the toy, frustrated.

"Why don't you try sitting on it?" I suggest.

"Good idea," she mutters.

Instead of sitting on her chair, as I expected, she puts the huge toy on her desk and puts her high heels on the chair for balance, raising her gaping arsehole into the air -- the plug, her bum and her new tat filling the screen.

She lowers herself onto the giant plug, her arse stretching obscenely as she quickly gets back down as far she had been, and then a little further. Only a little more than an inch to go now.

"So the headteacher, he looked at me like I was gonna get in serious shit. But he just wanted to talk to one of the other students."

She bounces up and down, grunting, getting close to fitting the fat toy in her fabulous arse.

"We carried on with the class after that. But all I could think about was the hard-on I could see in that boy's pants, and how gutted I was I didn't get to sit on it."

Her hole is stretched so wide now -- it's red and angry -- and there's just a little bit more to go...

Suddenly, a muffled shout from somewhere off screen.

"Oh fuck, The Boyfriend's home early!"

And quick as a flash, she's gone.

In a lesson learnt from last time, I had recorded her webcam -- so I watch it again and wack off. It's a slightly hollow orgasm. I need another fix of her, and soon.

***

Saturday lunchtime. I'm tucking into a bbq chicken sandwich and watching the F1 qualifying when I get a text message.

Emma: guess where ive just been ;)

Me: to see leah?

A picture message arrives as response -- of Emma's perfect pussy with my design freshly tattooed above and to her left of it. The top half, that could be seen above low-rise jeans and trousers, is a fairy, with wings and sweet smile -- a semi-rip-off of Tinkerbell. The bottom half, from the fairy's waist down, has fishnet stockings, a devil tail, and, of course, high heels. Her magic wand is pointing exactly at Emma's sparkling clit hood piercing. I think it sums up Emma pretty well.

Me: looks sexier on you than i ever imagined. I LOVE YOU xx

Emma: thank YOU!! i love the design and i love YOU xxxxx

Me: will we be webcamming thurs?

Emma: dont think so. the bf injd himself, thats why home early other night. hes not going next 2-3 weeks :(

Me: fuck!!!!!

Emma: i know. some good news though -- we r on for half term. the bf says ok :)

Me: YES!!!!!! :)

Emma: i know! got to go xx

And I didn't hear from her until...

***

TWO WEEKS UNTIL HALF TERM

Monday night. Crap day at work. Suddenly improved by a call from Emma:

"Hey you!" I answer.

"Hi." From the tone of her voice, I immediately know something's wrong.

"What's up?" I ask.

She sniffs. She's obviously just been crying.

"One of the boys is threatening to tell everyone I fucked him if I don't fuck him."

"Shit!" I know how important her teaching career is to her. This is very bad. "What are you going to do?"

"Well I'm not going to fuck him!"

"No. And listen, no-one would believe him even if he did tell anyone."

"They might. It would be his word against mine, and people have been talking about the way I've been dressing and acting recently and everything... it just doesn't look good."

"What have they been saying?"

"Y'know, little snarky comments about my clothes and my tongue piercing, and how that must mean I love giving head, and all that kind of crap. Even the bloody Head spoke to me today."

"What about?"

"He told me my attire wasn't 'appropriate for working with teenage boys'."

"What were you wearing?"

"A knee-length leather skirt and a blouse."

"That doesn't sound inappropriate! What's he talking about?!"

"Well... there was a slit up the back of the skirt so you could see the top of my fishnet stockings... and some leg above that... and the blouse was undone so some of my leather bra was showing..."

"Fuck me!"

"... actually, a lot of my bra was showing... and I was wearing the boots you got me."

"The thigh-high ones? You wore them to school?!"

"I know, I know. I was just feeling really fucking horny. Yesterday, I went to see Leah and she gave me the all clear with my clit piercing... so all I could think about was being able to fuck again."

"You should have told me -- I'd have been there like a shot to give you some relief!"

"You know we can't. And this morning... y'know I said I sang happy birthday to this boy I fancy before? Well, suddenly, every lesson is somebody's birthday. And I went along with it for a while and..." she sniffs, "...I gave this boy, the little blackmailing shit, I give him a lapdance. Right there, in front of the whole class. I'm so stupid!"

"You're not stupid..."

"It just... It scares me how much I lose control when I get turned on."

She sobs again.

"Hey." I wish I was there to hold her, protect her, make her feel better. "I think you should tell the Head yourself that this is what the boy has said to you. And maybe not wear those boots to work again!"

She laughs, weakly. "Yeah. I might do that. I'm gonna dress more carefully now, and, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna take the piercing out of my clit. I hope if I'm less horny, I might, y'know..."

"Yeah, good idea" I say, trying to sound supportive to hide my disappointment.

She sniffs again, then whispers: "I was so tempted to fuck him."

"Really?" I ask, shocked.

"Yeah. I mean, he's pretty cute, and I could feel he had a really big thing when I lapdanced on him, and my pussy was sooo wet and was tingling all day, but..."

"But what?"

"I promised you'd be the first after my piercing healed. And I didn't want to cheat on The Boyfriend. And I thought he'd probably just keep blackmailing me and make me do it again and again..."

She sobs.

"It'll be ok," I tell her. "Just go to the Head first thing tomorrow and tell him what happened. Speaking to him first will at least make them more likely to believe you if the bastard arsehole fucking shitbag does start lying."

"Yeah, ok," she mumbles.

"Do you want me to do anything? Speak to the fucker or something?"

"No, best you don't get involved. Thanks though."

"Ok."

"I'd better go. The Boyfriend's watching the football downstairs and it's nearly finished..."

"Yeah, ok. Let me know how it goes."

"Ok. Bye."

***

The next afternoon, after I knew Emma would be home from work, I texted her. I've been waiting an hour for a reply. Please God don't let this be one of the times she ignores me.

Finally...

Emma: i'm ok. how r u?

Me: im ok thanks. worried about you. what happened today?

Emma: nothing. still deciding whether to speak to head

Me: ok. i still think you should before fucker does

Emma: maybe. are you coming to surprise party on saturday?

Me: of course! apparently not surprise anymore though ;) wouldnt miss ur big 3 oh

Emma: dont remind me :( well catch up then then. got to go x

I hope this can all get sorted. I hate when she's unhappy.

Then I receive another message from her with a pic attached. The text reads:

taking clit piercing out hasnt worked :(

The picture is of her reflection in the mirror. She's on her back, naked but for her thigh-high boots, spread acrobatically wide. The tip of a vibrator is splitting her red, wet and swollen pussy lips; and in her arse, all the way in, is the monster butt-plug. Her eyes stare at me, betraying her desperation to cum.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

***

ONE WEEK UNTIL HALF TERM

Suited and booted, I arrive fashionably late at Emma's party. It's in the local rugby club (her brother plays for them) and is a private do. I won't know many people there, so didn't want to get there before it was in full swing.

And it is swinging. Streamers, balloons and massive signs -- all with "30" or "Happy Birthday" on them -- do their best to disguise what is actually a pretty shabby building. Probably about eighty people have turned up; the older family members sitting in a circle around the heaving dancefloor, though quite why it's so popular when it's playing the cheesiest eighties pop is anyone's guess. But, hey, Emma likes it. Speaking of Emma, where is she?

Almost as if she knew I was looking for her, she appears on top of the bar. She looks pretty drunk, but sensational.

Her blonde hair is swept over in a side parting and curled, and she must be wearing extensions because it falls over one shoulder and down to her breast in a golden wave. She has long fake eye-lashes on too, and heavy dark eye-liner merges into a gold shadow that somehow looks classy and slutty at the same time. She's wearing the Jimmy Choo nude pumps that she wore for me on our last webcam, and the dress... wow, the dress...

As she dances along the bar, kicking her legs out, the flimsy gold fabric shimmers in the disco lights. It has a halterneck, the thin straps tied behind her neck and flowing free down her bare back, scooping low all the way down to hint at the very tip of her arse crack, her tramp stamp tattoo on complete display. From the front, the v-neck plunges down to show the curve of the underside of her fabulous tits, and the straps are so thin as to be showing generous side-boob too. The way she's moving, it's a miracle that at least one of her tits hasn't fallen out yet.

But the thing that currently has everyone's attention about this dress is how short it is. Scandalously so. Quite a few blokes (I'm guessing, rugby players), are staring straight up her dress at her bare, glistening, freshly shaven pussy -- one of them being her brother, who can't seem to tear his eyes from her crotch. It's so obvious that I can see from the other side of the room that she hasn't got her clit piercing in. I don't see any way she can be unaware of the show she's putting on.

Over-protective and jealous as usual, The Boyfriend is trying to get her to come down. Ignored, he instead clambers onto the bar alongside her and signals to the DJ to cut the music.

The bumping bass stops and is replaced by a chorus of boos, mostly from the blokes sat at the bar.

The Boyfriend waves at everyone to quieten down. "Thanks everyone, ok. Cheers for coming and helping us celebrate Emma's big birthday."

Some cheers and applause. Emma looks embarrassed.

"As you all keep telling me, we've been together a long time now. Sooo..."

He takes Emma's hand and gets down on one knee, fishing a small box from his pocket.

Oh no. Oh fuck no, please no, don't...

"Emma, will you marry me?"

She gasps, obviously as stunned as I am. I hope her reaction is the same as mine. In my desperation, I try something I've never believed in -- telepathy.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

"Yes."

My world collapses in on itself as The Boyfriend slides a diamond ring onto Emma's finger. Everything seems to be closing in, I've got to get out...

Not wanting anyone else to see, I go through the door next to me, not knowing or caring where it leads as long as it's away. I hurry down the corridor, pushing at doors until I find an open one, and I find myself in the home team's dressing room. My hands are shaking, my breathing's ragged, and I realise (when I feel something wet hit my hand) that tears are streaming down my cheeks.

I collapse onto the nearest bench and weep.

***

The tears had to stop, I guess. I must be getting dehydrated.

I don't know how long it's been. Half an hour? An hour? Two minutes? When you've been sucked into a black hole, how do you measure time?

I hear faltering footsteps in the hallway outside, so I quickly dry my eyes. I consider hiding, but there's nowhere to go.

The door opens and Emma totters in, her Jimmy Choo's clicking on the faded tile floor, the diamond on her finger glinting in the diffused moonlight sneaking through the window. She sees me, and her eyes tell me immediately that she knows I must be hurting. She smiles, full of sympathy, and looks so angelic that I feel tears begin to sting my eyes again. I turn away so she can't see.

"I'm so sorry," she says, letting the door close behind and walking over to sit next to me. She takes my hand, squeezing it gently, and I lift my eyes to hers.

"I don't think anyone's ever looked more beautiful than you do right now."

She smiles, so sweet and so full of love, that I swear I hear my heart snap in two.

"I didn't know he would... I wouldn't have let you come if I'd known..."

"It's ok," I choke out. I take a deep breath; try to steady myself.

"This doesn't change the way I feel about you..." she whispers.

"You can't expect me to carry on being your bit on the side. I can't do that."

This is really hard. Keep it together.

"It's not like that! I love you."