Chapter Three - Emma
Maybe I should just leave, find another place to stay. On my bed with the blanket wrapped around me like a mummy, I try to imagine where else I would go. Definitely not to Dad and Margot, who would demand proof – testimony from witnesses and evidence that nowhere else in a 500-mile radius would work before they’d let me stay with them. Gillian probably wouldn’t work either. All she could offer me was a living room with a sheet partition, after all. But wouldn’t that be better than this?
I stand up and walk over to the mirror, letting the towel slip down and staring at my naked form. There. That was what Luke saw. Ha! “Saw” – that was what Luke gaped at.
In the mirror, my cheeks are blushing furiously. I feel so humiliated and ashamed and yet . . . No, there’s no denying it – I feel turned on too. There was no mistaking that look on Luke’s face. That actually enraptured look as he took me in. Not to mention that he himself, with his chiseled face and close-cut hair, was even sexier than I’d remembered.
Frowning, I return to flop on my bed, the wooden thing groaning as much as I feel like doing myself. I’m being ridiculous. What just happened – Luke spotting me naked in the bathroom – was embarrassing and horrible. If I have any sense at all, I’d get out of here as fast as I can.
I close my eyes. But as my thoughts quiet themselves, something else slides into the quiet. Something that sounds like . . . moaning. I turn on to the other side of the bed. But as soon as I stop moving and the bed stops creaking, I hear it again. No, there’s no denying it. Yes, that sound is definitely, definitely moaning. Female moaning at that.
In a sort of rapt haze, I make my way to my dresser, then take out and pull on my droopy knee-length Minnie Mouse sweatshirt. Now sufficiently covered, I follow the sound of the moans.
Luke’s probably watching porn or something. I shouldn’t even be doing this, but something in me is determined. I have to find out. So, down the stairs I go, the moans growing louder all the while. They’re coming from the room at the end of the hallway, the one with the scratched-up door open a crack. His room.
The closer I get, the more real I’m sure the moans are. They can’t just be from a porn video; Luke’s whole bed is jangling, for God’s sake. And yet, I can’t quite believe that there is a real woman in there. That Luke would be so inconsiderate to – on my first day here, no less! – not only invite a girl over, but to have loud sex with his door open as well.
As I near the door, one last voice of reason and resistance reminds me: You should not be doing this. You should be going back up to your room – listening to music, watching a movie. Anything but this.
But my hand’s already on the door now and it’s just going to be one peek, really, one glance – just to find out. That’s all. So, I put my hand on his door and peer in. It creaks a little, but something tells me that they aren’t really going to notice. Because – yes, there is a woman in there, a thin, tan, sexy woman, who is getting nothing less than pounded by Luke, his whole body rippling with muscles.
I watch them in a daze. I’ve never really watched porn, but if I did and it was the good stuff, I would imagine it would have to be like this: noisy, unrepentant, almost animalistic. These two people – this man and woman – have been reduced to the essentials: noises, feelings, and an urge fulfilled. And oh, how beautifully they do it.
My finger’s found its way to my pussy; I can’t help it. The sight is mesmerizing; his muscled idol of a body with his long pole of a dick, sliding in and out of her slick svelte form. They’re locked in a dance, in a trembling, yelled-out fuck. It’s pleasure like I’ve never seen before. Pleasure for purely its own sake. This fucking is something like meditation, like deliverance. Her moans bring a shiver down my spine that stops at my already wet pussy. My hand slips under my Minnie Mouse sweatshirt – under my lace panties. Now, there are no more thoughts. There is only my body responding to what their bodies are doing. I have no choice, really. No choice but to watch this pair of bodies pulse together. No choice but to respond to the arousal surging through my helpless form. And, fuck, watching it is so good and it feels so good. My clit is throbbing, but when I slide my fingers down to my wet pussy, it’s almost like he’s the one touching me. Luke. Luke, the glorious sex God, who’s flipping the girl around now so he can fuck her from behind, handling her as if she’s a doll – a sex object. Now I’m moaning too, softly. I’ve never felt anything that feels this good. But it’s ok because now her moans have amplified into one long scream. She’s cumming. Must be. He slams into her one last time and he collapses on the bed, groaning too, both of them cumming together. The sight excites me even more, has me pulsing my finger into my pussy even faster – more harried. I can feel the pleasure coming on like a tidal wave of warm tingling ecstasy. I close my eyes. Murmuring sounds come from the room, but it doesn’t matter. I’m locked in a movement, a feeling. A fucking Godsend of a feeling.
When the door creaks, I open my eyes. Standing there, smirking at me, is Luke. His gaze is on my hand that’s still on my pussy, no longer covered by my sweatshirt.“Hey Emma,” he says.
I don’t wait. I run. Down the hallway and back up the stairs. Yanking my hand out of my panties, crashing up the steps, I fling myself through the door and slam it behind me. Luke’s mocking smile follows me all the way up, even as I flop on the bed, makes humiliated tears come to my eyes. And here I thought things couldn’t get any worse. How have I found two different occasions to make a fool of myself in less than 24 hours?
As I lay here staring at the cracked-wood ceiling out of bleary tear-filled eyes, the worst thing of all is that the only thing I can think about is my still tingling pussy and finishing what I started.