Friday, July 25, 2014


"You awake," her voice whispered.

"Yes," I said; my back was to her, she scooted towards me, put her arm around me, touched me through my satin slip.

"Can't sleep?"

"I...I don't know."

"It's on your mind, isn't it?"

"Of course," I said. "I can't get it out of my mind."

"Second thoughts?"

"What, no...that's not it..."

"What then, love," she asked.

"I...I can't get comfortable."

"Oh...oh...that kind of comfortable. I...I could get the key...if it's too...difficult."

"No, I...I'll be okay." Truth be told I was afraid to have her unlock me, afraid I'd give into temptation, touch myself, and I didn't want to.

"What do you think about?"

"Him and you...duh..."

"Duh," Emily said. "What exactly? What were you thinking about now?"

I swallowed. "His hands...touching you..."

"Where," she asked.

"I don't know," I lied.

"Where," she asked again.

"I...your thighs...the inside of your thighs," I said.

Emily gasped; I realized she was touching herself.

I swallowed, felt the pressure between my own legs, the pressure that wouldn't go away regardless, would only get worse. "He...he looks at you, squeezes your thighs, pushes them apart without asking."

"Sara," she moaned softly.

"That...that's what a man does...he takes a woman...that's what you want him to do, don't you? Take you...not ask...not beg...take..."

Her moans were louder, I could feel her shaking.

"Emily," I whispered in her ear.

"What," she moaned.

"I...I want him to take you..."

"Hmmmm," she moaned louder, turned her head, looked a me, the begging look, the pleading look, full of need, desire.

"I want him to take you," I said again. "I want him to take you. I want him to take you."

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