Afgespeeld
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About Last Night
by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
Well, she thought almost bitterly as she got dressed in sweatpants and a plain black sweater that was soft and a little loose after her latest, and to date most successful, weight-loss plan. She considered shoes, but settled for her fluffy pink slippers instead. So much for her brilliant theory. She had sat there for hours and hours on the most uncomfortable stool ever, drinking glass after glass of whiskey because she didn’t know what else to order and was too shy to ask.
And nobody; not even one man; had shown any interest in her. The only one who talked at her at all was the hot bartender, who…
The bartender! Of course! That’s why the man had looked familiar to her in her bathroom. His features had been blurry without her glasses, of course, but she was reasonably sure it was him. She was almost a hundred percent certain of it. The only question was; what was he doing in her apartment?
“It’s a long story,” he said when she asked him later, in her kitchen, her hair wrapped up in a towel and perched on her head. His eyes followed her movements around the kitchen as she got milk from the fridge for the coffee and put bread in the toaster. The irony of the morning-after-nothing-happened breakfast didn’t escape his notice.
“I have time,” she said carefully, closing the blinds to avoid all possible sources of light. “Give me the quick version.”“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “You were drunk, I helped you home. My keys are locked in my car and I couldn’t get a cab to come get me. That’s it, in a nutshell. And because I know you’re still wondering, I spent the night on your couch, shivering a little. Ok, shivering a lot. It was damn cold. Plus I have a crick in my neck now.”
She winced. “I’m sorry. I wish you’d waken me up, I would at least have helped you with a blanket.”
“I could have used your hairdryer to build a nuclear bomb right next to your bed and you wouldn’t have woken up. You were out cold.”
Another wince.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never been that drunk before. I’m really not the type.”“I know,” he said, not bothering to hide his grin. “You told me last night.”
She chewed her bottom lip nervously. Brandon wanted to take that hot little task over for her. He imagined nibbling on those petal soft lips and cleared his throat a little.
“What else did I tell you?” she wanted to know apprehensively.
“Well, you work in a library, and you can’t lie even to telephone salespeople.”
“Is that all?”
“Not by a long shot. By the way, what does technically mean?”
She frowned and cocked her head in a ‘what do you mean?’ way. “Technically?”
“Yes. When is something technically and when is it; I don’t know, untechnically? Physically? Literally?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” she said and smeared a thin strip of margarine over her dry toast.He cupped his hands around the plain white cup filled to the brim with coffee and leaned forward.
“Tell me,” he said conversationally, sadistically waiting for her to take a bite of toast. “How does one remain a virgin, but only technically?”
She started choking as he’d expected, coughing and wheezing and grabbing her coffee to help the dry bread down the right pipe.
“What?”“Apparently, if you were speaking the truth last night which drunk people seem prone to do for some reason, you are technically still a virgin, but not in a physical sense. I was just wondering how that happens.”
“I told you that? Oh my; I’m so sorry!”
He laughed at the red flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.
“Relax,” he said. “Its fine. I would just love to hear that story. Because there has to be a story.”
“Not really,” she muttered, and then, as an afterthought, “I’m never drinking again.”
“Wise words that has been spoken by many, many people over the years.”
“I mean it,” she insisted. “I honestly can’t believe I told you that.”
“Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of,” Brandon said, stroking one finger down her arm.
“It kind of is, when you’re twenty nine.”
He gaped. “You’re twenty nine and you’ve never had sex? How the hell had that happen?”
“I don’t know, it just; happened,” she muttered. “Or more to the point, it just never happened.”
“There must be a reason,” he prompted.“There isn’t one specific reason, it’s more like a series of non-sexual incidents, strung together by everything from dating sites to five-minute dating games and more blind dates than I can count.”
“I take it none of that worked for you?”
“I met the most interesting people. Like Mike, who was seventy two at the time, and told me he had a granddaughter fantasy he wanted to play out with me.”
“He wanted you to pretend to be his granddaughter?”
She shook her head. “If only. I’m not sure how this would have played out since I didn’t stick around to find out, but I had to play the grandfather. And he was one of the better options.”
Brandon sat back, stunned. “No way,” he said disbelievingly.She nodded. “I’m serious. After him was a series of serial losers; men who couldn’t hold on to jobs and girls and had to borrow money from one loan shark to pay off the next. The type of guys whose idea of cleaning out the trailer means letting a stray dog in to lick the stains from the floor and to put all the porn in one box.”
Oh, he was in deep shit, Brandon thought as he roared with laughter. She had a sense of humor. There was, to his mind, nothing sexier in a girl than a sense of humor.
“And after them?”She frowned. “I met this guy, his name is Stanley, online. We went on a few dates and it didn’t go too bad, till his parole officer contacted me to let me know he was back in jail for harassing little kids at a park.” She winced. “It was messy. The police went through my house, looking for signs of kiddie-porn. Apparently he was part of a child-prostitution and trafficking ring. I had no idea. I got off with a warning, since there was no evidence that I was involved, and he told them that I knew nothing. I suspect they still monitor my internet history every once in a while.”
Helpless laughter rocked through him. No wonder she was still a virgin, if these were the kind of men she stumbled across during her search.
“What about high school?” he asked. “And college?”
She looked down at her hands. “I wasn’t exactly Miss Popular in school,” she said simply. “I wasn’t even that shy girl that nobody talks to except when they need help with math, because I sucked at math. Still do, as a matter of fact. I didn’t fit in with any of the clicks. I wasn’t pretty and I wasn’t clever, and I didn’t have any secret talents. The only thing I was good at was reading, and I did a lot of that. But nobody makes friends in the school library, right? Especially not if the girl is chubby and have the fashion sense of a blind nun.”
“Now that part I can help you with,” he said. “Why don’t I go shopping with you and help you pick out a few outfits that will make the, uh, best of your figure?”She looked down at herself. True, she was wearing sweatpants, but they were new and still neat. And her sweater might be a bit too big after her diet, but it was of a good material and had been expensive and it didn’t lose shape in the wash. But his words made her feel downright dowdy.
“Do you remember what I told you last night?” he asked.
“I barely remember you, never mind anything you told me,” she said, stung.
He frowned a little and gazed at her with an intent look on his face that made her wonder if he could see more than what she revealed.
“You expressed the wish to… how to put this delicately? find somebody to enjoy yourself with, but you were concerned that you don’t have the right look and personality to attract men. I merely offered my advice to help you if you wanted an objective opinion.”“Oh,” she said, pushing her plate away from her with one finger.
Actually, what he’d promised was to help her learn to fake it, but Brandon was strangely reluctant to hurt her feelings by telling her that. She was female, after all, and would immediately conclude that he thought she wasn’t good enough or pretty enough, or didn’t have what it takes to attract men like ants to a syrup bottle.
And that was just bull.
Even if he had had almost those exact same thoughts not twelve hours ago.“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked after a few semi-awkward moments of silence.
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m just a nice guy.”
“Men are never nice unless they have an agenda.”
He winced. “Ouch. True, but ouch.”
She gave him a small smile. “So what’s your agenda?”
Getting in your pants.
“Maybe I want library privileges.”
She snorted. “Like what?”
Showing you what the reference section should really be used for.
“Maybe I have a fine for a book that’s late. Think you can help me make it disappear?”
Her smile was like the sunrise.
“Are you trying to bribe me?”He leaned forward with a grin. “Maybe I am. Are you corruptible?”
“Certainly not. I’m a good girl, you know.” She was trying hard to look prim and proper, and failing miserably. Her eyes; those bluer-than-the-sky eyes of hers; were filled with laughter behind her pretty glasses, despite the way she was pursing her lips and trying to look chastising.
“All right. So I’ll have to pay the fine, then. How about this? There’s a book I want to read, but it’s on a waiting list. I would love to be moved to the top of the list.”
She pretended to think about it. “That depends,” she decided. “What book is it?”He couldn’t help it, couldn’t resist the invitation their flirting was issuing.
“The Art of Pleasuring Women,” he said, wondering if she would accept the unvoiced challenge.
She did, though her eyes widened slightly in scandalous provocation. “Well, now,” she said, clearing her throat a little. “I guess I can be convinced. Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to be dissatisfied by your prowess. It would be sad for the poor girl if you didn’t know how to; get things done. You might even say it’s my civic duty to let you have the necessary instruction.”
His throat was a little dry and he lifted his cup to his lips, surprised to realize there wasn’t another drop. “Yeah,” he said. “Education is important. Speaking of education, I think it’s time for lesson one.”
“Lesson one in what?”
He grinned. “Making you irresistible.”Emily twisted her hair into a clip with a practiced movement. Brandon had given her couple of hours while he got a cab to take him home and get his spare keys, promising to be back for her first lesson. She felt awkward when he left, sure it would be the last time she saw him. She knew he thought her plain and uninteresting– he’d basically said it himself in so many words; and he had absolutely no reason to waste his Saturday on her. She was surprised at the desolation she had felt when she stood at her window, watching his cab pull off. He was the first man in a long time to be nice to her. Not many guys would go to the trouble he’d gone too to get her home safely. He’d looked after her as if they were friends, and this morning he’d joked with her and put her at ease, making her forget about the humiliation of her alcohol-loosened tongue of the previous evening. For goodness’ sake, she had told him she was still a virgin. Why on earth had she felt the need to share that with him? Now he would always remember her as that crazy girl who couldn’t handle a few drinks and had no taste in clothes. He was nice, and talking to him had been very nice and seeing him again would be even nicer, but she was not naïve enough to believe he would be back. Still, she couldn’t help taking extra care when she dried her hair and did her make-up. The result was less than satisfactory, to her own eyes. No matter what she did, she would be plain. Nothing could change that. She had never been pretty, nor would she ever be.
“And you’d best make peace with it,” she muttered to her slightly depressed image in the mirror. She threw open her closet and looked at the piles of clothes that had been arranged with military precision, according to color and styles.
It was a bit sad, watching her cupboard. Most of what she owned was either white or beige or cream, or any variation of that. There were blacks and navy blues, and a few browns and greys. Some dowdy shades of maroon and a mourning, drab purple, but that was it.Was this really what her life had whittled down to? Her job was going nowhere, fast, she had no relationships outside her head, and her closet looked like she let her grandmother do her shopping. Why on earth had she bought that grey and brown coat hanging in the back? It was horrible. It was hideous, even if it was made of the finest wool she’d ever touched.
Emily pulled it off the hanger and dumped it on the bed unceremoniously. She grabbed another jacket, a few skirts she was ashamed to say she’d worn more than twice. The heap on her bed piled high as she emptied her closet almost completely. She was feeling slightly frantic by the time she was done with the coats and jackets and started on slacks and trousers. Had she been blind her entire life, to wear this?
“What are you doing?” a voice suddenly said, disturbing her. Emily dropped a faded charcoal blouse on the floor in surprise. Her sort-of friend and downstairs neighbor was staring at the bed, which was covered with clothes, with an expression of revulsion. She must have used the spare key Emily had left with her, because Emily had locked the door behind Brandon. Usually Judith knocked, but Emily hadn’t heard anything.
“You!” said Emily accusingly, bending down to pick up the shirt and holding it out in front of her. “I blame you!”
“For what?” Judith asked, clearly not sure what to expect.
“This is partly your fault,” Emily scolded, shaking and accusing finger at Judith. “How could you let me wear this crap? In public?”Judith stared at the bed, her mouth working a little as she processed the situation.
“I thought you liked it.”
“You should have told me I look about ninety! What sort of friend are you?”
“Em, you always look neat. I thought…”
“Neat! I looked neat. And how many guys want to have sex with neatness, I ask you?”
“Uhm…” Judith cleared her throat. “Clearly, not as many as you’d like.”
Emily threw another armful of blouses; a mustardy floral, a khaki-with-frills and a navy box neck that looked like the wrong end of the fifties; on the bed.
“None, that’s how many,” she said grimly. “How am I supposed to get somebody to marry if I can’t even find a man to have sex with me? What’s wrong with me?”
“There is not a thing wrong with you,” Judith said immediately and loyally. “You just; appeal to a different demographic than the men you meet.”
“Yeah,” Emily muttered. “The men at the senior citizen really enjoy chatting to me on Library Tuesday. They show up by the busloads to come see me.”Judith stifled a laugh. “Why are you taking all of your clothes out of your closet?”
Emily sank down on her bead and glanced at the pile of ugly materials and styles.
“I’m getting rid of it,” she said darkly. “All of it. And I’m going to buy new things. Pretty things. Color, Judith, I need color. Pink and green and yellow. Red! I don’t even have a red dress. Why don’t I have a hot red dress?”“Red’s really not your color,” Judith said. “Or yellow, to be honest. You need to stay away from red and yellow, and definitely no orange.”
“See? Why haven’t you told me this before? Look at me, Judith, I’m a mess.”
Judith sat down next to her. “I guess you always seem so content, so at peace with your life. I used to envy you that. I’m the most unstable person I know, and you just never cared what people thought about you. I had no idea you were dissatisfied. I’m sorry I let you wear ugly clothes.”
Emily gave a small laugh and glanced at the empty hangers in the closet. There were two coats that had passed her test; a truly timeless black cashmere and a really warm, snowy white one she’d bought on sale but hadn’t worn yet because it would get dirty the second she ventured out of her bedroom.
“It’s ok. It’s not your fault. I should have realized I need help long before now.”
“What brought this on?” Judith asked, picking up the mustard shirt looking at it shrewdly. “This would make an excellent floor rag, by the way.”Emily laughed slightly. “Nothing brought it on. I’m just; I’m tired of being part of the scenery in my own life, you know? When is it my turn to have some fun? I’ve been waiting so patiently for my life to begin, and look where it’s brought me. I’m twenty nine, I’ve never had sex, and I’m too scared to venture outside this comfort zone I’ve been digging for myself with serviceable clothing and comfortable shoes and not enough friends.”
“Your shoes are really ugly,” Judith said, honestly. “And I promise I’ll tell you from now on if you wear something that doesn’t work.”
Emily looked at her nearly empty cupboard. “Thanks,” she said. “I guess I’ll take this stuff to the Salvation Army, if they want it.”“Let me help with that,” Judith said. “I have a car, so it’ll be much easier for me. I know a great homeless shelter that needs donations desperately.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Emily said. “Why did you come here today? Did they drop my mail off in your box again?”
“No, I wanted to ask about that really hot guy I saw coming out of your apartment a while ago. Was he the cable repair man or something?”“No,” Emily said, blushing a little. “He; actually, he spent the night here. On my couch,” she added quickly. “Nothing happened. I was so drunk he had to bring me home from the bar.”
Judith’s eyes widened. “But you never drink,” she said.
“I did last night.”
“Never mind that, then. Oh my word, Emily, you let a stranger sleep over at your house? And you didn’t jump him?”“He wasn’t interested in being jumped,” Emily said. “He’s just; a nice guy I’m never going to see again.”
Judith chewed the inside of her lip. “Leave this stuff,” she said, “and bring your credit card. We’re going to go shopping.”Brandon paced the hallway outside Emily’s apartment. He’d been there for an hour and she still wasn’t opening the door. She was either avoiding him on purpose, or incapable of answering the damn bell, or, most probably, not home.
Which just plain pissed him off. Hadn’t he told her he would be back? She had no business being out when he wanted to see her!He kept walking, following the generic grey carpeting with the navy pattern with his eyes. This was ridiculous. He should be at home, watching sport or having an afternoon nap. He should not be pacing around, waiting for Emily to show up. What was he, a horny teenager who mistakes lust for love?
He forced himself to leave after another half hour. No girl was worth waiting for like this. It was pathetic and sad and told him, more than anything else, how much he needed to get laid. These; feelings he seemed to have caught, were like a disease. Or a virus. And the best cure for unwanted feelings is a good old-fashioned boink fest. He knew plenty of girls who would be more than happy to oblige. It was just such a pity he wasn’t interested in anybody except Emily.
Brandon scowled.“Are you sure about the dress?” Emily asked for the third time, loading the last of the shopping bags into Judith’s car. They’d spent almost five hours straight in the shops, with Judith dragging her from the one shop to the next, picking out clothes and smelling discounts from miles away. Her arms were sore from carrying the bags around, and her credit card had given up screaming in pain ten purchases ago. Instead,
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Brandon has been harboring a secret librarian fantasy
by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
Brandon has been harboring a secret librarian fantasy for many years, but Emily was hardly his idea of a hot librarian. She was the type of women who came a side-serving of Complication. So why couldn’t he stay away from her?
It was almost time for last call. Brandon wiped the sodden rag over the counter and put the empty glass the girl had just put down into the crate under the bar with the other dirty glasses.
“One more?” he asked. She nodded and took her wallet from her purse. He handed her the scotch on the rocks; her sixth or seventh one for the evening; and wondered how she managed to keep her balance on the high barstool. Her eyes had that glazed look of somebody who had definitely had a few too many, but if he had not been the one to pour her drinks; all six or seven of them; he would not have guessed she was drunk. There was no characteristic slumping or wobbling or even raucous laughter. In fact, her ramrod straight posture and uncanny balance reminded him of a ballet teacher, especially with her hair scraped back into a bun like that. She was pretty enough, in a neat, mousy little way. It was impossible to hazard a guess at the figure under the bulky, shapeless coat she was wearing over goodness knew what. She was wearing glasses with a nice frame that actually suited her face in a non-descript kind of way. Brandon had never seen such a dignified drunk in his life. She had better manners drunk than most people had when they were stone cold sober and sitting their grandmother’s sitting rooms.
“Thank you,” she said politely when she accepted her change and slipped half of it into the tip-jar, as she had been doing all evening. He kept an eye on her as he started straightening bottles on the shelf behind him, wondering about her story.
Brandon loved his job. He owned several bars and still spent an evening now and then behind the counter. After serving drinks for three years across the globe when he was fresh out of high school, he enjoyed the occasional trip down memory lane. It fascinated him to see how alike people were, no matter where they lived. Broken hearts healed just as slowly in Hawaii as they did in Australia, and flirting was a universal art that did not differ too much from one place to another. He loved watching the games, the intrigues, the emotions, as people relaxed around him. He’d seen it all; the break-ups and the make-ups, the hopeful souls scouring the bar for the love of their lives; or at least the lay of the night. He’d seen people drink to forget, or to try to keep memories alive. He’d seen them drink because there was nothing else to do, or because they couldn’t do anything else. He’d seen the lonely girls go home with the wrong men and knew they’d wake up the next morning with alcohol on their breath and regret in their hearts. He’d seen women play fast and loose, and the men who managed to escape their clutches. He’d seen the best and the worst of people, but he thought he’d never quite seen anything like the girl sitting there in a dull brown coat, finishing one drink after another without toppling over or falling into somebody’s lap on her way to the bathroom. She was fresh and new, and it intrigued him.
The bar was rather empty in comparison to most Friday nights. But to be fair, it was the middle of the month and there was a blizzard raging on outside. He was closing up earlier than usual to give the staff and the customers the chance to get home before it got worse. The neat lady; there was other way to describe her; was one of the diehards, but since she was hardly causing a scene, he didn’t ask her to leave just yet while they were cleaning up.
Finally they were done, and he had to ask her to leave. She blinked owlishly at him from behind her glasses.
“Excuse me?” she asked, as if she had not heard him the first time.
He leaned closer and thought he caught a whiff of something clean and fresh under the ripe smell of alcohol and closed-up people that hung over the room.
“It’s closing time,” he repeated. “We’re going to lock up.”
“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly as her impaired brain tried to sort out his words. “Right,” she said finally. “Well, I’ll just go then, won’t I?”
“Can I call you a cab?” he asked, because she still had not moved from her seat. He waved a hand at the two waiters and the other barman, indicating that he would lock up and they could go home.
She looked at him, her eyes still slightly unfocused.
“To take you home,” he explained. “You shouldn’t drive.”
“Did I come with a car?” she asked, bewildered. “I hope not. I don’t own a car. Did I steal one?”
He grinned. This was fun. Normally drunk people just annoyed him a bit, but this girl struck a chord somewhere in his chest he’d never known to exist.
“Not that I know of,” he said. “How did you get here?”
“I must have walked,” she said, puzzled. “From work. Fancy that.”
“What work do you do?” he asked as Rod, one of the waiters, closed the door behind the other staff members.
“I’m a libal; librali; a li bra rian,” she said, looking quite pleased with herself for managing the word. Fancy that indeed, he thought, his mind going into immediate overdrive at the mention of her career. Like many, many men, he harbored a secret Librarian Fantasy. Even the way she broke it up into syllables didn’t diminish the thoughts running though his head.The job suited her perfectly, he thought. She was cut out for the silence and air of wisdom and propriety that hung around the books like dusty clouds. He imagined being scolded by her for being too loud and grinned.
“Where do you live?” he wanted to know. He would help her home, call her a cab, and forget about her. She was not the type of librarian he fantasized about; she had glasses, but they were the wrong kind, and even though her hair was scraped back out of her face, there was nothing sexy about it. She wasn’t wearing nearly enough make-up and not at all the right kind of clothes, either. She was just a girl, hiding behind stacks of books. Her fingers were unadorned, and he guessed her to be single. She probably had four or five cats and a vibrator named Bob hidden in her nightstand that she rarely used because it made her feel guilty.
“Up the street, I think,” she said, pointing vaguely with her fingers. “That way. You have pretty eyes.”
He lifted an amused brow. ‘That way’ would take him to the kitchen and eventually, an alleyway behind the building.
“How about an address?” he asked. “To give to the cab-driver.”
He grabbed a paper napkin and a pen. She wrote slowly, carefully, her handwriting still managing to be neater than his illegible scrawl.
“You don’t live far from me,” he said, lying smoothly. “Just one block south, to be precise. Would you like a lift home?”
“Never get in the car with strangers,” she said firmly.
“A cab driver is also a stranger,” he pointed out.
“Not the same thing.”
“Nope. But on second thought, I’m not sure you’ll find a cab in this weather.”
“That’s right,” she said, smiling broadly for the first time. The expression transformed her face from plain to pretty. Her innocence amused and tickled him. “It’s snowing. Like a White Christmas.”
He couldn’t help it. He grinned; it was January. She wasn’t just drunk, she was completely sloshed. But still amazingly stable and logical.“Let’s get you home,” he said, coming around the bar to help her from the stool. This was not something he ever did. He owned the bars; how the patrons got home was their problem, not his. But he couldn’t just leave this girl to her own devices, not unless he wanted the next time he heard about her to be her name in an obituary. She’d probably fall asleep in the cold right outside his bar and die. It would cause all sorts of unwanted paperwork and police questions.
She didn’t even need his help standing up. The liquor, it seemed, had not affected her balance one bit. Still, he kept a hand on her back to steer her. He locked up behind them while she stood looking at him through her wide, trusting eyes.
“You’re really tall,” she said. “I wish I was taller.”
“You’re the perfect height,” he said. “See? My arm fits right round your shoulders. You’re like a portable armrest.”
She didn’t giggle at that, and he wondered of she’d heard him. It was a pretty lame joke, but in his experience, drunk people will laugh at anything.
“I wish I was hot,” she said. “Like you. But not like you. Like a girl. Then maybe I could have sex.”
He coughed, choking on his breath, the way some people trip over their own feet.
“What?” he asked when he finally had the air back in the right pipes.
“I wish I was prettier,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m not being pessimistic, really. I just; well, no use crying for the moon, is there?”
“You are pretty,” he said automatically. She sighed.
“I’m not. But thank you for pretending, anyway. Oh, my goodness, it’s cold.”
He had just opened the back door and yes, it was cold indeed. The wind was blowing sheets of snow into their faces and heaping it against the side of the building. He steered her with one hand in the direction of his car, which was parked under the staff-members-only roof.He cranked up the heater and took the drive slowly and carefully. The cold was making her drowsy, and he could see her head drooping slightly. No doubt the drinks were finally taking effect.
“I take it you don’t drink often?” he said.
“Nope,” she said, pulling the edges of her rather ugly coat closer around her. “I’ve never been drunk before.”
Until tonight, he thought, but he waited for her to continue on her own. After a few seconds, she did.
“I’m sort of a virgin,” she said.” By choice. But it’s not my choice.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Technically I’m no longer one. But I’ve never been with a man, you know?”
Well, he certainly knew now. But his years as a barman had taught him when to listen and when to talk. So he kept quiet.“Well, anyway, I always thought it was because I’m too shy. Men don’t like that, right?”
“Some do,” he said, because what else could he say?
“Liar,” she said fondly. “Nobody wants to be with somebody who’s ashamed of themselves. I know I wouldn’t like that in a man, so I can hardly expect any man to show interest in me. That’s why I went out tonight,” she added after a few seconds. “Too see if drinking helps me get loose. Turns out I’m even boring when I’m drunk.”“You’re not boring,” he said firmly. “You just need to learn how to fake it. Everybody is secretly self-conscious. Some just hide it better that others. You need to find a way to pretend. If you can convince yourself, you know other people will believe it.”
“I don’t think I’d know how,” she said. “I’m no good at acting or pretending or lying. I can’t even lie to telephone sales people. “
“I’ll help you,” he said impulsively. “I’ll show you how to fake it.”
“Really?”
“Sure. When you’re sober. Anything I teach you now will be wasted.”
“Like me,” she sighed. “I’m wasted, and all I want to do is go to bed. That’s my building up there.’
“That’s a gas station,” he said with a grin.
“Oh.” She frowned. “Then it’s not my building, is it?”
“I sincerely hope not.”They found her building eventually, tucked away between a tall, scary-looking block of flats and a three-story bridal boutique. He helped her out of the car and up the steps. It took her three times to key the right series of numbers into the keypad so the door would open. Finally, she recited them to him to read it in.
“Thank you,” she said awkwardly. “For the lift, and the ear.”
He grinned. “No problem,” he said. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Emily,” she said.
Emily. It suited her perfectly, as if her parents had had a glimpse of her in the future when they named her. She looked like an Emily more than anybody else he’d ever met.
“I’m Brandon,” he said. “Can I pick you up tomorrow around noon for your first lesson?”
“Lesson?”
“In faking it.”
It occurred to him then that ‘faking it’ might refer to something else as well, but he always made damn sure a girl does not need to fake it when she’s with him. Not that he planned to have sex with her. This girl’s second name was Complication. It would be cruel to pluck her cherry and then be off on his merry way. She was not the type to come; and then go.
“Okay. Wanna come up?”He considered saying no, but realized she might need help to get into her apartment. It seemed her brain had simply been behind on its reaction, and she was finally in the clumsy imbalance phase of drunkenness.
She might get hurt, or lost, or wind up asleep on a hallway chair somewhere.
“Sure,”’ he said.It was three interesting flights of stairs. She only almost-fell seven times, even with his arm around her waist. She was still incessantly polite, apologizing profusely and telling him how pretty he was.
Yeah, because that’s what every guy secretly wants to be. Pretty.He had to take her keys and unlock the door himself. She was toppling over and had to hold onto the wall with both hands to keep from introducing her ass to the ground. It was a good thing she was wearing sensible flats rather than sexy heels, and he had to be the first guy ever to have that particular thought.
“There we go,” he said when he finally got the door open. She would need to get a locksmith to take a look at the thing; the key had stuck a bit, as if the mechanism inside was rusty.Her house surprised him. He had unconsciously expected it to be decorated like something from the Victorian Era; Chintz and flowers, frilly and stuffy. Chokingly girly. It wasn’t. Oh, it was undeniable a female place, but it was feminine rather than girlish. The door opened into the sitting room, which had a sage green couch with big white pillows and lampshades. The lavender curtains had been drawn against the cold air and what was probably a dreary scene outside. The art against the walls was lovely; no modern skyscrapers with red splashes to indicate blood and lust, or wriggling shapes than reminded him of female sex organs during ovulation.
A small little galley kitchen on the right showed no dirty dishes in the sink, and a gleaming espresso machine on the countertop next to an equally gleaming microwave.
He half-carried, half-dragged her to the only other door, guessing it to be the bedroom.It was, and here was more proof of neat, uncluttered taste. The room was tiny, with built-in cupboards and barely enough space to walk around the bed to the bathroom on the other side.
“You gonna kiss me now?” she asked when he helped her onto the bed and slid a pillow under her head.
“Sure, thing, honey,” he said as he switched on the bedside lamp so he could turn off the harsh overhead fixture. “In a minute, okay? You just wait right there.”
He made sure she wasn’t too close to the edge to roll off and brought her a glass of water from the kitchen. He found Advils in her bathroom cabinet, along with some make-up and an unopened packet of condoms. Pity stirred his heart. She was well and truly lonely, wasn’t she? All cosseted in her small little apartment, hiding behind books and pretty paintings. So far he hadn’t seen any sign of a cat, but maybe the building didn’t allow pets.He found a heater and turned it up. She was lying suspiciously still on her side, one arm flung out to the side. He tucked it into a more comfortable position. It was the desire to get her comfortable as much as curiosity that made him wait until she was deeply asleep, or, more likely, passed out, before he pulled her coat off to reveal her body.
She was small, and firm, and the only word he could think of to describe her was neat. She was utterly non-descript. She had tits, but they were just there, situated on her chest much in the way a nose is situated more or less in the middle of a face. He doubted he’d notice them if he saw her in the line at the grocery store other than for the obvious reason; they were female tits, and therefore bound to be noticed, even if they did not get a second look. They were completely average tits. He couldn’t see much, as she was wearing a creamy beige sweater that had clearly been bought with an eye on heat rather than hotness, and brown slacks that sat loose around her legs and revealed nothing about what her body looked like.
He shook his head as he slipped her shoes from her feet and considered doing her another favor and tossing them in the trash. They were butt-fuck-ugly. He hated sensible shoes on a woman.He pulled the quilt over her body and since he had some experience with drunk people, found a plastic bucket in her kitchen to put next to her bed. She seemed to have missed the psychedelic-yawn, porcelain-god-worshipping part of the evening, but judging by the fact that her body seemed to have its own ideas of how to react to alcohol, he wasn’t taking anything for granted. She would hate herself if she woke up in the morning, only to find she’d puked all over her pretty, plush white carpet. Who bought white carpets anyway? Wasn’t that like a direct invite to Karma and Murphy and all those other sadistic creatures who makes people spill coffee just after they get dressed in a new shirt, or back their car into a lamp pole the first time they take it out for a drive?
He left a piece of paper with the instructions to drink the tablets and the water next to the glass and went back downstairs, only to tread back up when he couldn’t find his keys in his pocket.
It wasn’t in the living room either, nor anywhere else in her house that he could find. He went as far as opening her underwear drawer (he really was desperate, after all,) and was not too surprised that they weren’t there. He was pleasantly surprised, however, that the librarian lady had quite good taste in underwear. He didn’t touch any of the pretty lace and satin snips of fabric, but he could imagine them on her easily enough, and it made for a pretty image.He finally located his keys; sitting in the ignition of his car, the doors firmly locked against him.
“Son of a bitch!” he said, slamming a frustrated hand onto the snow-covered roof. “Dammit!”
He took his phone from his pocket and tried to call a cab company to come get him and take him home to get his spare key, but just as he got an operator his phone made a cheerful beep just before the battery died. He considered throwing the piece of shit into the nearest heap of snow, but figured that would be counterproductive.
He was stuck, and he’d be dammed if he was going to wait for the sun to rise outside on the streets, looking at a locked car.He trudged back upstairs, grateful that he hadn’t been able to lock the door behind him and made himself at least semi-comfortable on Emily’s couch, and closed his eyes. By any luck he would be awake and gone long before Miss Emily found the courage to leave her bed. And when he left, he would stay gone. She probably won’t remember the impulsive promise he had made to help her get confidence, so she won’t be upset when he doesn’t show up. He already regretted the invitation; Emily the librarian was not the type of girl he needed to spend time with. She was too shy; she said so herself; and she dressed atrociously. Except for her underwear, of course. She was plain, bordering on dowdy, a self-proclaimed virgin, (whatever she had meant by technically) and she had you’re-going-to-break-my-heart written all over her.
She was a librarian, for goodness sake. That was a species of women best suited to the porn industry, where they wore impractical high-heeled pumps and button down shirts with sexy glasses and tight skirts. If you put Emily in
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Clinic Samplesposted by JessicasEroticRamblings ; narrated by Ava;Welcome To Steamy Stories PodcastTales from the Sex Clinic
Posted by jessicas erotic ramblings. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.
My name is Nurse Jessica, and one of my favorite patients is a man named Jason who is known to the clinic as Patient 427. He has been my patient for many years and whenever I have a special clinical study to do he is my patient of choice. The last study I was involved in required me to gather an extremely potent sperm sample from a male specimen so of course I knew Patient 427 was the man for the job. The best way to get such a potent sperm sample is to deny the patient any orgasm for at least 3 months while performing lengthy edging sessions on a daily basis.
These edging sessions consisted of me giving him long slow handjobs edging him to the point of orgasm time after time but denying him his orgasm each time. That way his sperm count continues to build and build until after 3 months it’s practically off the scale.
Patient 427 was very willing to take part in my study (he will basically do anything for me) even though he knew that he wouldn’t feel the sweet release of a full blown orgasm for a whole 3 months. I continued to explain to him during each edging session that the study we were involved in was of supreme importance to the clinic and so it was vital that an extremely potent sperm sample was available. I wanted him to know how important his role was and that any results from the study were almost totally reliant on his orgasm sacrifice. Day after day I stroked his cock until he was close to exploding before denying him his release. As the days and weeks went by poor Patient 427 was becoming more and more delirious with the need and craving to empty his aching balls. His cock throbbed and his swollen balls ached for release but the study needed to be completed so he had to endure the endless edging and denial sessions again and again and again.
Finally after 3 whole months had gone by the day of sperm collection arrived. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so absolutely desperate to cum as Patient 427 did on that morning. His balls were aching and throbbing while his cock was so Fucking hard I could have hammered nails in with it. He undressed as always but this time instead of having him lay back on the examination table I told him I needed him to stand so I could collect his cum. I had the sperm sample jar ready as I slid my fingers around his achingly hard cock once more. The way he looked at me as he knew that this time I was actually going to drain him was so very sweet. The poor thing was about to finally get his long overdue release and I desperately wanted to make him cum for me.
He had his hands clasped behind his back as my hand stroked his big hard shaft. I held the collection jar in my other hand and was ready to catch his load when he finally erupted for me. I think we both knew that this wasn’t going to take very long as his body was almost trembling with excitement. Precum was already flowing as I heard his breathing quicken. I told him it was time for him to give me every single drop of cum he had stored up in his aching heavy balls. My hand stroked his cock faster and he suddenly started shooting jets of his creamy seed into the collection jar. He groaned in relief and moaned with pleasure as I milked him into the jar. His orgasm seemed like it would never end as his body jerked and shook as he emptied his balls for me.
Finally he slowed and as his orgasm ended he dropped down to his knees as his shaky weak legs gave way. I thanked him for his long 3 months of sacrifice and as I screwed the lid onto the sample jar I assured him that his very potent sperm sample would be put to good use.
The following day I decided I should send Patient 427 a video update to show him how his sperm sample was being used. I had his sample in a big syringe and as I squirted it over my chest letting it run down between my tits I told him that there wasn’t actually an important study and that basically I just wanted to feel how his potent cum felt being squirted over my tits.
By jessicas erotic ramblings, for Tumblr.
The Dom Next DoorA Dom Next Door Claims Me.Posted by jessicas erotic ramblings. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
I had just got home from the gym and as I walked inside my house I found my older next door neighbor Simon sitting on my couch waiting for me. Simon and I had been having an affair for the past 6 months and I had given him a key to my place a few weeks ago. He had been sneaking out of his house at night while his wife was asleep to come over and Fuck me. I hadn’t been expecting him this afternoon so it was a surprise to see him, but what wasn’t a surprise was how my nipples suddenly became hard just from how he looked at me.
“I didn’t know you were coming over today but I’m glad to see you,” I said as I smiled and peeled my tight shorts down as Simon stared at me. He got up and walked over to me and was leaning in for a kiss when I put my finger against his lips to stop him telling him that I really needed to use the bathroom but that I would be right back.
“Don’t be long, Jessica. You have something I need my little slut,” I heard him call after me as I walked into the bathroom. I knew exactly what he wanted and I loved when he called me his little slut. After I went pee I checked myself in the mirror and was about to go back downstairs to him when there was a knock on the door. I opened the door and he was standing there with a sly grin on his face. He put his hand on my chest and backed me up against the bathroom counter.
“Well; someone’s horny,” I said as he slid his hands up my sides before leaning in to kiss my neck.
“You better Fucking believe it, my little slut. Now turn around and show me that hot little ass,” he said as he took a step back. I bit my lip and did as I was told. Turning around to face the counter. I eased my panties down as he stepped back behind me and gave my ass a hard spank. I moaned as I felt his fingers slip between my legs. My pussy was wet for him so his fingers slid inside me so easily. With his other hand he pushed me down against the counter. He fingered me a few times then I heard him licking his fingers to taste me. I heard his zipper slide down as he pulled out his thick cock, slapping the head against my pussy lips a few times.
“Who owns this dirty little cunt, slut?” he said as I felt him push the head inside me. He held it just inside me and grabbed my shoulders. Simon had been married for years but he had never been able to show his wife how sexually dominant he craved to be as he knew she would not be into that. But he got to show who he truly was whenever he got me alone.
“You own my cunt, Sir,” I said submissively. My pulse was racing as I knew what I was about to get. He moved the head of his cock just enough to tease me. Oh god I wanted him.
“Fucking RIGHT, I OWN You, SLUT!” he roared and slammed his entire length into my wet pussy in one hard thrust. I threw my head back and squealed as he bottomed out inside me. Then he just Fucked me. Pushing my head back down as he slammed his cock deep into my horny little cunt.
“Please Fuck me, Sir! Please use my pussy!” I begged.
“This cunt is MINE! Anytime and anywhere I will Fuck you however I want, and you will Beg for my cock!” he growled as he grabbed my shoulders tighter, pulling me back on his cock as he thrusted deep.
“Please Sir; I beg you. Please honor me with your seed. Oh god please. .. please Sir may I cum? PLEASE let me cum!” I begged as my orgasm was about to shake me to my core. He was slamming into me even harder. Just taking me in my bathroom like a Fucking slut.
“You filthy worthless little slut. You are my cum dump whore! All you are good for is taking a man’s seed. You were born to be Fucked. God damn your pussy is so tight. I’m gonna fill you with so much Fucking cum girl,” he growled as his cock slammed so hard and deep that I couldn’t hold back my orgasm. I squealed and my pussy spasmed around his shaft as I came. He groaned hard as he kept Fucking my cumming pussy. My legs felt weak as he suddenly exploded inside me, his seed pumping into my soaking cunt. As he was cumming he grabbed my hair and pulled up from the counter, then turned my head so he could kiss me. He kept kissing me hard as his cock twitched the last of his cum inside me.
“How do you make me cum this Fucking hard, Jessica?” he said in between kisses.
“Pure talent,” I said and smiled.
“Cheeky slut,” he said and gave my ass another slap.
By jessicas erotic ramblings, for Tumblr.
Last CustomerClosing Time Is A Special Treat!Posted by jessicas erotic ramblings. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
It was almost closing time at the coffee shop I was working at and the only customer still here was one of the regulars named John. He liked to hang around until closing time if he knew I would be the one closing up. Every time I bought him more coffee he would flirt with me telling me about the huge tip he would be giving me if I was a good girl. He wasn’t just teasing me as the huge tip was for real as long as I was a good girl for him after I had locked the doors and flipped the ‘Closed’ sign around.
As soon as he was alone with me, he would call me over to him and ask me if I wanted another big tip from him tonight. I always answered him by slowly pulling up my pink waitress uniform to show him that I had already slipped off my panties for him. He would turn me to face a table telling me to put my hands down against it, then he would squat down behind me and run his fingers up over my high heels and up my smooth legs until he took an ass cheek in each hand and spread them up and apart to expose my smooth pussy lips. John would kiss up the backs of my legs until reaching my pussy where he would give a long slow lick up my slit.
He would lick me until I was moaning and so wet before backing off and standing up then taking off his shirt and sliding down his pants. I would feel the head of his cock rub along my slit as he asked me if I was ready to receive the huge tip he had promised me and I always moaned Yes.
He would slowly push his cock inside my pussy giving me short strokes as he inched his length deep inside me. Then John would Fuck me. He loved watching his cock sliding in and out of my tight pussy so he would always withdraw until just the head was inside me before thrusting deep inside me once more. I did love how he Fucked me and his cock always felt so Fucking amazing inside my smooth tight pussy. He would always make me cum and if I hadn’t cum before he started getting close he would reach around to my clit and rub my hard little nub until I was gasping and my pussy was spasming around his cock.
As John was about to cum inside me he would pull back so he could cum just inside me as he loved to withdraw and watch his cum load slowly drip out between my pussy lips and run down my legs. Afterwards he would pull up his pants and pull my pink uniform back down telling me to walk home with his cum still dripping from my pussy. John would leave me about $100 on the table as my tip for letting him cum inside me.
By jessicas erotic ramblings, for Tumblr.
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Tommy ends up making a living by sleeping with milfs. Read the story on Erotica Lust.
https://eroticalust.com/being-passed-around-by-milfs-looking-for-fun
My debut novel, My Wife and Girlfriend , is available for only $1.99 (along with two other books.) LIMITED TIME! Watch the book trailer and get more information about the special.
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A single mother meets a casting agent, without knowing what he really does. Read the story on Erotica Lust.
https://eroticalust.com/a-desperate-single-mother-seeks-work
My debut novel, My Wife and Girlfriend , is available for only $1.99 (along with two other books.) LIMITED TIME! Watch the book trailer and get more information about the special.
https://eroticalust.com/my-wife-and-girlfriend
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Making Quotaposted by JessicasEroticRamblings ; narrated by Aria;Welcome To Steamy Stories PodcastThe year was coming to an end.
Posted by jessicas erotic ramblings. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.
When she signed the employment contract, Jessica knew what the stipulations were. She had to generate enough sales to cover her costs and give the office a profit. Otherwise, she would need to make up the difference.
The end of the quarter was imminent, and failing the best sales week of her year, Jessica was not going to meet her target.
She had heard rumors of how Daniel, her boss and owner of the firm, accepted repayment. But these were just hushed rumors – nothing more.
It was the last Friday of the year before the holiday close when she was summoned into his office.
She had only been in there a few times – mainly during her interview. It was an old-fashioned office, laden with dark oak and decanters filled with fancy liquors.
He was waiting for her in his oversized, high-backed chair. His dress was standard for “casual” Friday – slacks, no jacket, tie, and a vest to keep everything together. She wasn’t yet comfortable enough to do “casual” herself, especially with her subpar numbers. Her dress was pristine, stylish – she knew how to dress, how to accentuate her charms.
He offered her a chair and a drink. She accepted the former and declined the latter. He sipped his whisky, placed it down on the waiting coaster, then leaned forward on his mahogany desk.
His voice was so deep that it almost vibrated the rocks in his scotch. “Do you know why you are here, Jessica?” She didn’t trust her voice not to break, so she simply nodded in reply. “I took a chance on hiring you. You were doing so well, and then your performance just went to shit. We can’t have that. I have a business to run. And that business is not supporting wayward girls who can’t do their jobs.”
He took another drink before continuing. “I like having you here. You try hard, but not hard enough. I think it’s really just an issue of finding the right motivation for you.
”Jessica opened her mouth to interject. “I don’t think it’s a matter of. ”He quietly resumed control of the conversation, using his same measured tone. “Stop talking.” She immediately paused, responding to the quiet power in his voice.
“With girls like you, I know just the motivational tool.” He stood up, and Jessica caught her breath as she realized his pants were open. This was it, what she had heard about.
She didn’t know was she was expecting, but what she saw was a gorgeous cock. Devastatingly erect, large and thick, but not to the point of causing logistical and biological issues. The large head shined, already slick with some of his pre-cum.
He beckoned her to him, and she walked to him, powerless, like a zombie. He lifted her dress over her head, removed her panties and bra, and bent her over his desk. He rubbed his cock on her waiting labia.
“This is what’s going to happen, Jessica. We’re going to Fuck now, just once, to make up for what you owe me”. With that, he pushed his cock inside. Jessica was surprised at how wet she was, at how she easily could take him inside, at how Fucking good he felt inside her.
His thrusting increased in time. She moaned with the feeling, the pressure on her vaginal walls, the perfect way in which she was stretched. Short gasps escaped her lips. An orgasm already threatened her, as his hands tightly closed on her hips.
“You will love Fucking this cock.. But I’m never going to Fuck you again, never going to let you experience it again, unless you hit your targets. Is that clear?”
The feral sounds that escaped her lips as she climaxed were the only agreement he needed to amend their workplace contract. He kept his hips working, knowing that another orgasm would only add further motivation to his charge.
After this, Jessica would do whatever she could to make this happen again; and again; and again.
By jessicas erotic ramblings, for Tumblr.
Remote ControlledHer new wifi-enabled sex toy.Posted by jessicas erotic ramblings. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
My boyfriend, Rob; had surprised me with the gift of a remote controlled vibrating bullet sex toy which I was extremely excited about testing out. It featured a mobile app and a wifi connectability.
The following morning as he was getting dressed to leave for work, he told me put on my favorite lingerie and to push the bullet toy inside my pussy, and to leave it inside me until he got home. He picked up the small remote control before kissing me, and telling me he was going to make me cum as he drove to work. After he left I pushed the bullet inside me as I lay naked on the bed. There was no vibrating coming from the bullet yet so I stared sliding my hands over my breasts. My nipples were already getting hard from the anticipation of the bullet buzzing to life at any moment. I circled my nipples with my fingertips through my red bra and moaned when I squeezed them. Ummm I was getting so unbelievably horny as I squirmed around on the bed caressing my full breasts.
Suddenly the bullet inside my pussy started buzzing and it felt Fucking amazing. The thought of my boyfriend stimulating me by playing with the remote as he drove to work was driving me wild. The bullet didn’t just vibrate at a constant level but changed in intensity depending on my boyfriend’s desires. It would vibrate in waves that sent tingles of pleasure travelling through my now soaking pussy. It would vibrate in a low rumble then make me scream as the intensity was increased almost making me cum. My hands slid over my breasts then over the bed sheets as I grabbed the edges of the bed, gasping and moaning, my back arching as I came for my boyfriend. My eyes closed as I gasped, writhing in heaven as my orgasm washed over my body as the vibrating bullet worked it’s pure Fucking magic.
Then, as suddenly as it started the bullet stopped vibrating. I was breathing hard as my body tingled in a post orgasmic bliss. I was already making plans to pay my boyfriend back for making me cum with my new toy, thinking about how I was going to go down on him and suck his cock as soon as he got home later. I lay there for a few moments then got up and slipped my robe around me. I left the bullet inside me as per Rob’s instructions and I walked downstairs to make myself some breakfast but jumped in surprise when I found my boyfriend’s dad sitting on the couch in the living room.
“Hey Jessica. I came over to ask Rob for a favor but I guess I just missed him. I was going to leave but I found this strange remote thing on the floor. Do you know what it controls as I’ve been sitting here for 10 minutes playing with it but it doesn’t seem to do anything,” he said as he held up the remote for my new toy.
I stood there just staring at him in disbelief realizing Rob must have dropped it as he left for work. His dad had no idea he had just made me cum as he tried to figure out what the remote was used for. My clit was still tingling as I stood there staring at him not quite knowing what to say.
“If I turn this knob the lights get brighter but it doesn’t seem to control anything,” he said as I watched him twist the knob on the remote again which suddenly sent a wave of vibrations through my pussy. I gasped out loud and my knees pressed together as I stood there trying to keep my composure as the bullet buzzed inside me. He looked at me with a somewhat confused look on his face.
“Are you ok Jessica?” he said as I stood there trying hard to contain the moan that I so wanted to let out. He must have turned down the knob on the remote again as the bullet stopped and I was able to regain a touch of composure.
“Uh, yeah just. “
I didn’t have a chance to finish what I was about to say as he turned the knob again and as the bullet vibrated inside my tight wet pussy I could no longer stifle my moans. I moaned and gasped as my thighs pressed together and I put my hands against my robe over my over stimulated pussy. He was staring at me in astonishment but he had obviously figured out what was happening as he continued to play with the remote. My legs felt slightly trembly, so I sat down on the couch as I continued moaning from the pleasure between my legs.
“Oh my god, Rob must have dropped this on his way out. You naughty kids were going to play with this while he was at work,” he said as he laughed. He continued playing with the remote as I started to squirm in my seat. My nipples were now hard and I couldn’t stop myself from responding to the toy pulsing inside me even though it was my boyfriend’s dad who was controlling it. He was obviously getting seriously turned on from seeing what he was doing to me as he started shifting in his seat and turning the controlling knob up and down faster. I knew if he didn’t stop he was going to make me orgasm again very soon.
My robe must have slipped open as I squirmed with pleasure on the couch as I suddenly realized my lingerie clad body was completely on show but I was so close to cumming I honestly didn’t care in the slightest. He moved on to the floor in front of the couch and then he pushed the bottom of my robe from my legs as I moaned and squirmed in front of him. I felt his hands on my thighs as he eased my legs wider and after pushing my panties to the side he was suddenly slowly licking up along my pussy lips. I squealed with pleasure and as he licked up to my clit I grabbed his head and held his face to my pussy. He was sucking on my clit as I arched my back and screamed in ecstasy, cumming so Fucking hard.
“DON’T STOP. Oh God DON’T STOP!” I screamed. My entire body shuddered as my orgasm overwhelmed me, and I never wanted to stop cumming. My fingers were entwined in his hair as he worked my throbbing clit between his lips. I was humping against his face as I came again and again. I suddenly pulled his head back from my pussy and I begged him to turn down the buzzing bullet inside me. He turned it down but not all the way off, just leaving the bullet faintly vibrating which wasn’t enough to make me cum again but it kept me in the moment. I watched as my boyfriend’s dad stood up and started to unfasten the belt on his jeans. He was looking into my eyes with pure lust and the bulge in his jeans was clearly visible.
I moved forward to the edge of the couch and as I felt my pussy still trembling tightly around the vibrating bullet I reached up to take over undoing his jeans. I pulled the belt away and pulled down the zipper before tugging down the jeans and his underwear as watched as his cock bounce free.
“Jessica, I haven’t felt this hard in a long time. Put your mouth over it and suck me,” he said without any hesitation. I didn’t give him time to ask me again as I closed my lips around his cock. My hands slid up his thighs as I heard him moan out so loudly from the feeling of his cock being swallowed between my pink pouty lips. I took his cock in my hand and started stroking as I sucked him off. Loving having his cock in my mouth. He was still holding the remote and the harder I sucked him the more he increased the intensity of the vibrating bullet deep inside me. I was moaning as I sucked his cock harder, my hand and mouth moving together as one along his rock hard shaft. He was moaning hard and suddenly turned up the knob on the remote to max making me cum again as his cock pulsed between my lips sending the first jets of his cum over my tongue. He was cumming into my mouth as my entire body trembled with absolute pleasure.
I kept sucking cock until there was no more cum to swallow and he pulled out of my mouth gasping hard. I took the remote from him and turned off the bullet as I could finally not take any more. I was absolutely spent as I collapsed back against the couch panting hard. I watched him pull his jeans back up and he suddenly seemed embarrassed at what had just happened.
“Oh god; honey I just took advantage of you. I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell my son,” he said looking genuinely concerned about what had just happened between us.
I stood up and walked towards him with my robe still open. “I won’t be telling him, and just so you know you didn’t take advantage of me as I wanted to suck that sexy cock of yours,” I replied as I stepped closer to him.
“Oh honey don’t say that else you’ll get me hard all over again.”
As he spoke I slid my hand down against his crotch. I squeezed gently as I gave him a wicked little smile.
“Would that be such a bad thing,” I said seductively as I could already feel his cock coming back to life. I picked up the remote and slipped it back into his hand as I slowly sank back down to my knees in front of him, undoing his jeans on my way down.
By jessicas erotic ramblings, for Tumblr.
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(18+) Rising stars of the Allied Federation: Corporal Jenany Kiza and Private Yuki Tsukamoto are recruited for an undercover mission with... unique cover identities.
This audio is the companion to Issue 4 of the Yuki: Space Assassin webcomic. Link (until we get the website up and running). For the Motion Comic, which combines this audio and the comic visuals, check it out here!
Join the Yuki: Space Assassin Discord.
Follow for updates on her adventures on our BlueSky.
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Cast:
Yuki: KittenVox
Kiza: Baku Satsu
![Comic Audio 3: The Auction [Explicit]](https://is1-ssl.mzstatic.com/image/thumb/Podcasts126/v4/02/f3/2e/02f32e90-463b-a969-c97d-bf058ca2b2d1/mza_15451808017852987383.jpg/80x80bb.jpg)