Chapter Four - Luke
I wake up fucking her. Emma. Somehow, last night, after I sent Yvonne away with a vague promise to call her, I went up to Emma’s room. She was crying but still horny as hell. Underneath her sweatshirt, she was naked. Her thick tits slapped me in the face as she tried to mutter protests she didn’t mean. No, once I got my fingers in her pussy, then we both saw what she really wanted. She wanted what she had seen through the crack in the door. She wanted to be fucked just the same. Just as mercilessly. So now, here I am, my dick between her thick thighs, both of us rocking the bed together. And when I close my eyes again, I realize just who I was thinking of every time I closed my eyes with Yvonne: her. It was her. Emma.
I close my eyes and when I open them again, I am alone.
I roll to one side of my bed, then the other. But Emma is nowhere to be seen. I have a hard-on, but it’s already a sad dying one. It knows better than I do: it was all a dream. All a tantalizingly unattainable dream.
As I get out of bed, my gaze stops on my still-open door. Well, what I saw Emma doing last night was definitely not a dream. No, she was there standing at the door. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, lost in our pleasure, touching herself at the sight of Yvonne and me. It was practically hotter than actually fucking Yvonne.
I slam the door.
This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all. I promised the commander – hell, I promised myself. And this is one promise I can’t afford to break.
My stomach lets out a loud growl. A quick rifle through the Cheetos bag reveals only two spindly little sticks left. So, it’s back to the kitchen for some coffee and Mini-Wheats. Luckily, when I get there, Emma’s nowhere to be seen; she’s probably still hiding in her room, wanting to avoid me as much as I want to avoid her.
I make some coffee, get out the good old blue Mini-Wheat box and fill my bowl with the sugary wheat cereal. A bowlful of milk, a spoon, and I’m good to go. Just as I’m leaving, of course, is when she arrives.
She freezes in the doorway, her gaze flicking to me and down. She’s wearing that same big sweatshirt that still hadn’t hid her deliriously masturbating finger.
I’m about to walk past, when I see the angry scowl on her face. Her whole mouth drawn into a bow, her blue eyes glaring at her feet. The sight is almost endearing and definitely provoking.
Before I can stop myself, I’m saying “Slept well?”
I walk right up to her, but she still doesn’t respond. Now, this is definitely provoking.
“Anytime you want to watch, just tell me,” I continue, “I have loads of girls you can watch and enjoy.”
Her face twisting in disgust, Emma marches by me without a second look. “You’re disgusting.”
As I walk out of the kitchen, I stop in the doorway. “Don’t pretend you’re not attracted to me.”
Now, she turns to me with a sneer. “You are the cockiest man I know.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask before walking away, still smirking to myself.
As I get to my room, I figure that’s that. But as I gobble down my breakfast, my mind keeps whirring with angry thoughts. Who does Emma think she is? That she can deny what I saw with my own eyes? She had actually touched herself at the sight of me fucking Yvonne.
Her sneer replays itself in my head while I eat. When I finish my breakfast, I find myself taking off my boxers. So, Emma’s not attracted to me, eh? Well, then. It would be no sweat if I just walk around wearing a tiny towel, right?
I grab a green one hanging on my closet door and wrap it around myself, tying it in the back so that my junk is just about covered. Then, I grab my phone. It’s back out into the living room, which the kitchen has a nice open view of.
I call Tania first. “I’ve missed you too babe, how are you?”
At the sound of my voice, Emma glances over, then gapes. Her eyebrows knit together while I just smile. I’m just getting started.
“I missss you,” Tania’s saying again.
“I know, babe. But this week is crazy and–” I glance at Emma again, but she’s sitting at the kitchen table now with her head turned determinedly away from me. “How about you make this easier on me? What do you say? Would you do that for me?”
You can almost hear the interest peak in Tania’s voice: “Oh yeah? What could I do to help you?”
Emma still has her back turned.
“Well, how about you start with telling me what you’re doing and what you’re wearing?”
A giggle, then “I could do that. I’m wearing a long sleepshirt and no panties.”
“No panties, eh? Why not – any reason in particular?”
Another giggle.
“No… I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Baby, you know how I love to make you happy. To give you pleasure. Could you do that for me now – give yourself some pleasure?”
More giggles.
“I guess I could do that.”
Silence. Then, the sounds of moans over the line.
“Yeah, baby, that sounds really fucking hot. What are you thinking of? Me fucking you?”
She says something I can’t hear, but now I can see Emma’s back all tensed, so I improvise.
“Oh yeah? You’re thinking of my huge, rock-hard dick shoving itself into all your holes, face-fucking you, then fucking you in the pussy and finishing in your ass?”
Tania’s saying something between a “huh?” and an “uhh,” but it doesn’t matter because Emma has leapt up and, half-finished muffin in hand, stomped to the kitchen doorway. Glaring at me as if she might actually chuck the thing in my face, Emma cries, “You are sick!” Then, she strides up the staircase.
“Uhhh . . . what was that?” Tania’s asking between her moans.
“Nothing, baby,” I say. Because right now, I really am rock-hard. But not because of the sexy redhead on the phone who’s moaning at the thought of me. No. It’s because of the girl who just marched away; the one whose disgusted face also wore something else that was unmistakable. Arousal.