Tuesday, July 29, 2014


She opened the door, stepped in, turned and waived before saying anything to me, shut the door, leaned against it, stared.

Yes, her hair was disheveled. Yes, her makeup was no longer perfect. Yes, there was a look in her eyes as she glared.

"Em," I whispered.

"Oh, Sara, oh, my sweet, sweet, Sara."

"Em, you...he..."

She smiled, a devilish smile. "Yes, love, yes. Of course yes."

"Em," I started shaking, closed my eyes; I swear I almost squirted right there, locked up and all.

She walked slowly to the couch, sat next to me, took my hand, looked at me. "That was...he was...sweetie. I....," she said softly.


"I...I hope...you..."

"Em," I whispered, "I...I am..."

"He's different."

"I know," I said, "he knows...right?" She nodded. "He gets it, right?" She nodded again. "I mean...us?"

"He wanted to know if I'd...you know...before...I said yes; I told him about Evan...and Jeff. He asked if you knew; I told him yes. He said he wasn't like them...he's not...he's different...obviously."


"He...," she blushed, looked away.


"He's so...I don't want you to get your hopes up."

"I won't."

"Liar," she laughed. "You do, I can tell; so can he. We...we need to get to know him, Sara."

"I know," I said. "Of course...but it's not wrong to...to hope, is it?"

"Oh, no, I hope, too, believe me, I hope."

"Was...was it...we he...good," I swallowed, feeling the throb in my groin.

"Oh, Sara, better than I could have ever imagined. He's so...he has a way about him, a presence, he..."

"He's a man," I whispered.

"Yes, love, that's it exactly." I looked down at her legs, at the hem of her dress. "You want to, don't you?"

"Em...," I bit my lip.

"Go upstairs," she said, leaned towards me. "Slip into something prettier, because I want it too. I want my pretty little sissy touching me, licking me, tasting me."

"Em," I moaned, "Em..."

"That's what you want, right? That's what you thought about all night, right? Your mouth, your tongue, licking, tasting, touching everywhere he was."

"Mfmmmgfff," I whimpered.

"He made me cum like a man would, Sara, I want you to make me cum like a sissy does."

"Emily," I said her name again, the only word I could form.

"I hope he wants what we want, love, I so hope he wants what we want."

Upstairs I kissed her and licked her and tasted her. Everywhere he did, everywhere Matthew did. It was a game, really.

He licked me here, she'd say and point to the inside of her arm and I'd lick here there.

He touched me here, she'd say and hold her breast and I'd lick her there.

He was inside me here, she said touching between her legs and I licked and kissed her there. Her swollen pussy lips, the smell of her, of sex, of musk, of condom. He was inside her, he fucked her. A man. He fucked her knowing she was married, wanted to fuck her because she was married.

A man wanted my wife (who wouldn't, many have), but he seems to want this, too, the whole thing.

I thought of all this as Emily shook and came the way she does when I'm between her legs. I thought of it as I throbbed and throbbed, knowing I wasn't going to cum the way he did, the way she did. In a way I was glad I was locked, to keep it pure, to keep from spoiling it with my own release. My intimacy with Emily has never been about fucking her, about possessing her, about rooting like an animal. My intimacy was like this, soft and tender, meek, submissive.

"Are you sure," she asked me later as she held me in her arms.

"Do you even need to ask?"

"Yes, I do. Over and over I need to ask. I want to make sure, I need to make sure; you're more important to me than anything."

I looked at her. "I'm sure, Emily," I said, her last words the reason I was sure.

"It's different..."

"We're different," I said, "but it's okay."


  1. As I wrote before, I admire both of you. And you are writing so beautifully about what is going on in your minds. Thanks for sharing.


  2. Did you know that you can shorten your long links with Shortest and get dollars for every visit to your shortened links.