Fragile

Note from the author

• The majority of my stories are semi-autobiographical. Most of the remaining are pure fantasies. This tale falls cleanly into neither category. The overall scenario is based on my own experiences, but the specific events and — most obviously — the viewpoint of the narrator are both fabricated.

• For a change the only Literotica member appearing is me.

—

Fragile. That was the word. It wasn't the happiest word to come to mind in the circumstances. Another two words jostling for preeminence in my heightened consciousness were tiny and young. Vulnerable was also floating into my thoughts, the letters pulsing in neon red.

I had been excited. Excited didn't really cover it, more intoxicated, heart pounding, nerves thrilling, hardly able to contain myself; the wait had been excruciating. But the trouble with intoxication is its relation to decision making. Why had I signed up for this? I had clearly been carried away. Led unreliably by my dick, more likely.

Fragile. She looked so small, outnumbered eight to one by guys. Two guys I knew, but I looked on them in a different light tonight; the rest were strangers. Big guys, small girl. Older guys, younger girl. It felt like we were ganging up on her. It was in the evening's description: gang bang. Shit! What am I doing here? Fragile.

Dave had been talking. I had hardly been listening. Something about being nice to the girl. Christ! Are people not nice to her? I didn't know Dave. Didn't know him except for an initial 'phone call, more an interview really. That and sending him a scan of my test results, two weeks in a row. None of that now seemed too connected to the reality of the evening.

Josh was there. Josh and one other guy I knew slightly. Josh had made the introduction, the recommendation rather. Josh who owned the store, a rear room of which provided our gathering place. I'd frequented the store a lot over the last two years. Since. Since Ellie. Ellie? What would she think of me? I felt like the room was blurring, twisting. Fragile.

It had been OK at first. Like meeting a group for a baseball game. Some new faces, but they seemed good guys. Normal guys. We'd drunk. We'd said our introductions, first names only. We made fun of the toweling robes we all wore. Some of the talk had been ribald, a nod towards the purpose of our meeting. But it had felt alright, safe, normal. Guys being guys. And then...

Dave had led her in. He towered over her. A scrap of a thing. A dash of dirty yellow topping pale pink, almost white and all encased in black. Short, black silk robe, tied around her tiny waist. Black stockings encasing her skinny legs, the straps of a black garter belt disappearing beneath the robe. Black high heels strapped to her feet. Yellow. White. Black. And fragile.

You read about hearts in mouths. I felt mine had been ripped upwards out of my chest and that a torn aorta was spraying crimson into the room. She stuck to Dave's side, seemingly fine, smiling and nodding for sure, but why did she have to be so small? So... fragile.

Dave introduced her, but I knew her name already from Josh. Emily. What had he called her? Little Emily. Little. Fuck! I knew she was 20 too. But she didn't look it. She was pretty enough, in a scrawny, awkward way. Her legs were nice, if obviously not lengthy. The freckles. I was no more prepared for the freckles than I was for her stature. If Ellie and I had... she'd be... fuck, she could be the daughter we never had. Fragile.

As Dave toured the group with her, Emily kissed each member, first on the cheek, then on the lips. She strained upwards, even in her heels, or they stooped down to her. We were in a horseshoe, me at one end. When she reached up to the guys opposite, a pert naked ass peeped out, before being veiled again. She was getting nearer. Josh was next to me, I heard her whisper in his ear, though not what she said.

Then she was in front of me. Dave said something, probably my name. I was fixed on the big eyes looking steadily up at me. Pale eyes, maybe blue, maybe green. She put a hand on my cheek and moved forwards, moved upwards.

The blurring became the room dissolving. The twisting turned into a tornado. I retched, grabbed my mouth with both hands and fled to the restroom. The stall door was open and I flung myself in and onto my knees. The two bourbons from earlier flooded back into my mouth followed by the rest of my stomach. Acrid fluids surged into my nasal cavity and out again. I clung to the bowl. Emptying my being in to it.

It stopped, as it must and I collapsed sideways against the stall wall. Tears poured, both from the violent emesis and my surging emotions. Ellie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Ellie, I miss you. Please forgive me. My shoulders heaved as I sobbed uncontrollably, eyes squeezed shut.

—

In the midst of my misery, I became aware of a presence. Opening blurry and bloodshot eyes a petite figure dressed in black resolved on my retinas.

"Hi, hun. Are you OK? I know I'm no oil panting, but that's the first time someone has thrown up at the sight of me."

"Fuck, you're a mess. Sorry for the bad joke. Let me help you."

She flushed the toilet and put down the lid. Then she took me by the arm and helped me up, she was surprisingly strong for her diminutive size and her grip was firm on me. I slumped back onto the toilet seat.

"OK, that works. Now don't run off anywhere."

She smiled as she spoke, a crooked smile, but a warm one. I closed my eyes again.

When she came back, she had a glass of water, a pail and a wash cloth.

"Rinse first, hun. You can spit in here. Maybe blow your nose as well."

She gave me some tissues and then the glass, also holding up the pail.

"Good. Now maybe rinse again. OK, have a drink while I clean you up."

As I sipped, she wiped my face. Thoroughly, attentively, but also tenderly. I had been thinking about a hypothetical daughter not long ago. Now I had flashbacks to a poorly child being tended to by his mother. Get a grip for fuck's sake!

She rinsed the wash-cloth and wiped me again.

"Much better. Now let me get one more thing and then we can have a chat."

"But what about the others? Aren't they waiting for you?"

"David has found them some more drinks. And anyway we have all night, no hurry."

She disappeared and returned holding a small bottle with blue fluid in it.

"I always have some mouthwash in my purse. Use as much as you want. The pail is beside you."

"Good. Feeling a bit better?"

I nodded weakly.

"That's great. Now I'm really not that scary. Let's have that chat, shall we? Come on."

I stood a little shakily and shuffled after her, thinking that I had been following her instructions without question for a while now. Maybe Emily wasn't quite what I had assumed her to be.

—

She appeared to know her way around Josh's property and led me to his office. As well as Josh's desk, the room had two rather worn easy chairs in it, facing each other over a low table. Maybe this was where he cut deals with dildo vendors.

I sat where she motioned me to sit and she opened a mini-bar on the rear wall. I tried to avert my eyes as she bent to floor level to do this. Putting two bottles of water on the table, she also sat down.

"So, hun. First of all, it's all OK. Nothing to be worried about. You're my first person to vomit, but one fainted and a couple have had to sit down and collect themselves. It's OK. The whole group sex idea is pretty out there, right?"

I marveled at how matter of fact she sounded and how reassuring.

"This shit isn't for everyone and if you want to leave, that's fine. But I'd like you to stay. Josh says you're a good guy and I trust him."

She looked at me, as if she was triaging my mental state and then, seeming to have taken a decision, continued.

"You can leave any time you want, but let's talk a bit first. Where is the harm in that? OK?"

"OK, Emily."

It felt strange using her name.

"Great. It's Chris, isn't it?"

"Now, Chris. Stop me if I'm being too personal. But I know you lost your wife a few years back, right?"

I winced a little, but nodded.

"That must be hard. How long were you married?"

"Twenty-eight years."

"I'm sorry, hun."

Emily reached forward and put a hand on my shoulder. Her intent was comfort, but this also opened her robe, giving me a glimpse of a small, but perky breast.

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be provocative. Trust me, it will be more obvious if I'm trying."

I smiled despite myself.

"You have perfect breasts. Or at least one perfect breast, I guess."

"Thank you, I'm sure we will get to the other one at some point."

"So, Chris, what was her name?"

"Eleanor, I called her Ellie. She was blonde, like you, but not as petite."

It was her turn to smile.

"Not many are, hun."

"I guess, it's been lonely, as well as sad. You must miss her terribly. Did you know David is a widower as well?"

"No. I don't think I did."

"That's part of why we hooked up. I was a mess for reasons I won't bore you with. He was feeling, I guess, a bit like you are now. We both had needs."

"Are you...?"

"An item? No. We're just friends with a shared hobby."

The smile was now a grin. I was beginning to think I liked Emily. I was orders of magnitude less anxious than earlier.

"So, David says he loved his wife. That he still does and I have no reason to doubt him."

She paused, considered, and then spoke more directly, looking me in the eyes.

"I don't know what you believe, but I don't think his wife is sitting on a cloud, clutching a harp and keeping an eye on him. I think she's gone. Sorry if that sounds insensitive. I've lost people too. It's sad, cripplingly sad sometimes, but eventually life has to go on."

She seemed to be gauging my reaction before continuing.

"I think the living are who matter. I think David's wife would have wanted him to go on, to find what happiness he could. Sorry, deep thoughts by Emily, I know."

"So, for now, I think I make David happy. Happy in one area anyway, maybe two. I'm not a surrogate wife and not trying to be. I guess he's less lonely with me in the house to annoy him. And then we fuck a lot and that's pretty good."

A vague smile crossed her face, as if she found herself, or perhaps the role she had adopted, mildly comical.

"I have another deep thought, want to hear it? I can shut up if you like. But I'm not awfully good at shutting up, just so you know."

"Tell me what you think, Emily."

It began to feel natural to use her name.

"Well, I think sex is just humans being nice to other humans. The more sex, the more happy humans. Make love, not war and all that 60s shit. I think we are just here once and then that's it. So why not eat, fuck and be merry?"

"That's a lot to process, Emily. I don't know that I agree with everything that you say, but you make some interesting points. I guess I'll have to think about it."

I paused, unsure whether or not to say what was on my mind. What had been on my mind since I first saw her.

"But what about you? To be honest, I saw you and thought victim. I thought, under-age. I thought drug addict. It made me, well as you know, sick to my stomach."

"Oh, hun. Little me made you think all that? It's really, really simple. I'm here because I like sex. No one is making me fuck groups of guys, I want to. I've done these sessions before, I like them, I'm not a virgin you know."

"I'm not going to get you my ID, but I was born in 1997. I think 20 is plenty old enough to fuck, don't you? Drugs? Well I have a dark secret. In my first year, I took a drag on some weed. I coughed my guts up. Smoking and asthma don't mix well. And l like my brain, I don't want to mess with its chemistry too much. I must confess however, that I'm an addict. I'm addicted to three things, caffeine, alcohol and semen."

I laughed. The concept of laughter was so foreign only brief minutes ago.

"That's better, hun. Now I guess you came here for a reason and then everything else kinda overwhelmed you. Am I right?"

Again I nodded.

"And what was the reason? Say it out loud."

"I wanted to get laid. I miss getting laid. And yes, I am lonely. It's nice talking to you, but I came here to fuck you. I'm so sorry, Emily."

"No need to be sorry, hun. I want you to fuck me. That's why I'm here. You don't need to worry about me. I don't need saving, I don't need protecting, I don't need therapy. I just need to be fucked. Understood?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. So stop over-thinking things, stop worrying about other people and just go with the flow, OK?"

"But listen, Chris, we should probably get back before everyone is too drunk to fuck, but let's just try something first, shall we?"

"OK, Emily, if you think so."

"I think so. But can you do me a favor? Finish my mouth wash first."

I did as she said. It had become my default response.

—

"Remember, don't over-think. Go with the flow."

Emily stood and untied her robe, easing it off her shoulders and letting it drop. I was already aware that she was topless underneath and has seen enough of her ass peeking out to assume that her panties were also missing; I was right. She was still tiny, but her stature had grown in my mind. Her hair drifted across her small breasts and the garter belt perfectly framed her bald pussy.

Maybe it was the shift in my own perspective that she had gifted me. Maybe it was knowing her reality was totally different to my hypothesized version of her. Maybe it was just simply long-suppressed urges rising in me. Whatever the reason, she seemed prettier, more desirable. Of course the lack of clothing may also have been a factor.

She approached me and bowed to kiss my lips. I thought that was so good of her, given my recent history. Then she climbed on to my lap, legs furled and embraced me. She was very light. I recoiled from her instinctively, but she ignored my reticence.

"Go... with... the... flow..."

She kissed me once between each word, sensual punctuation that had my heart beating faster. The increased blood flow was having another effect, which she could clearly feel through my robe.

"When was the last time you came with someone else, hun?"

"A long time ago, years. Ellie was ill for a year and then..."

"Hush... It's going to be OK, hun. It's all going to be OK."

She kissed me again and I couldn't help but push my tongue between her parted lips. Everything from memories to guilt to worry about my breath said no. But everything about her said yes. I listened to her, as I had learnt was best for me. She enclosed my tongue with hers, drawing me deeper, pushing her mouth harder on to mine.

The pressure where she was sitting on me became intense and she decided to pay attention to it. Dropping to kneel on the floor between my legs, she unknotted my robe and opened it. She seemed pleased with what this revealed. Indeed I couldn't recall being this hard in years, throbbing this much in years.

She fixed me with her large, pale eyes of shifting color and held my gaze deliberately as she slowly opened her mouth and even more slowly bent to envelop my engorged and rejuvenated cock. Her tongue, that had been massaging mine, now rolled around my head, producing electrifying feelings I had all but forgotten. I closed my eyes, my mind in a totally different place. Accepting, wanting, going with the flow as instructed. She started to move her mouth up and down my shaft and I began to moan, quietly at first, but soon with increasing volume. I opened my eyes again and met hers, it seemed to me she had not shifted her line of sight at all.

She knew what she was doing and I was unaccustomed to such stimulation, the inevitable ending approached sooner than I might have liked. When I knew that I could not hold back much longer, I tried to withdraw, not wanting to assume too much. But she gripped my root and pushed me back into her mouth, eyes still locked with mine.

She sucked and I spasmed and twitched unloading cum into her as she calmly and repeatedly swallowed, lips tight on my shaft. Only when she had milked every last drop from me did she pull back, licking her lips and clearly pleased with herself.

Gathering up her robe, she stood and extended a hand to me.

"I told you it would be OK, didn't I?"

"Let's go back. You can help tie me up. You'll impress all the others with your stamina now."

"Emily, I don't know what... I... well I guess thank you. That was amazing, you are amazing. Thank you."

"No need to thank me, I love cum. Come on and hopefully you can donate some more to me."

"Have you ever tried anal, hun?"

I shook my head.

"Tonight's the night then."

She smiled so broadly at me, her eyes twinkling. I took her hand and we walked back to rejoin the group.

—

Reflecting on the events of the evening a few days later, I understood that what I had seen as fragility was the opposite: openness to experiences, openness to the feelings and needs of others and insatiable appetite. I recognized that it had been me who was fragile, close to being broken into a thousand pieces. But, under Emily's guiding hand, I felt the process of healing had begun.

—

THE END

—

Acknowledgement

• Thanks to my friend and fellow Lit user

  DickandDoof for his invaluable feedback on the male perspective and his helpful general suggestions for improving the text 🙏🙏🙏.