Coffee with Emma is sexual, it’s exquisite.
I sit across from her at a small wooden table, outside one of the inner city cafes I go to occasionally. With Emma I’d go there every day for a month or a year, or for an hour or two, just to see her. Even thirty minutes will do, provided I see her tomorrow.
I have my usual latte with a leaf pattern on the froth. Emma has something rich and dark, swirling dark and mysterious as she turns it with a small spoon. She’s like that, there’s a depth and a darkness I’m drowning in. There’s a clear golden light, too, melting down from the sky up above. Light scatters and sparkles on the surface of the slow turning liquid. There’s more to coffee than the cup.
We’re skirting around anal sex. It’s my taboo still, but for Emma, it’s what someone taught her. I’m teaching her something new. My care will fill her. Care full.
My voice is low so she leans forward a little, and there’s a slight cleavage, her breasts pushed up a little from the lacy cups of her bra. She tells me she notches her bra a notch tighter before she comes to see me, and undoes three buttons on her top. It’s a warm day, but her nipples push hard shadows onto the blue silk blouse that she wears. I call her Beauty for one simple reason – she is. Beautiful.
Bobbie’s right, Emma looks good in blue. Emma looks good in nothing but her black velvet choker, with two delicate diamonds in her ears. Emma’s breasts swell when she’s aroused, and she crosses her legs to tempt me, squeezing her slender thighs together. The hem of her skirt rides up. The strap of her bra is too tight now. She’s imagining my fingers undoing the catch, her breasts in the palms of my hands. She takes a sip from the cup, turns with a gaze and she smiles. There’s a moment of truth, we just caught it.
That’s something I notice on women, the bras they wear under their corporate blouses. It’s a male gaze trope, but I’m not ashamed of it. Those sexy thin straps that small-breasted women get away with, the way they reach inside the collar to their throat, their fingers dropping down to feel the weight of their breasts on the strap. Someone tried to tell me once, maybe she’s just adjusting her bra. I don’t believe it – why would a woman suddenly become aware of the weight of her breasts? It’s talking about sex with a man, does that. Some women wear their bras too tight all the time.
This is another one of those moments where the world narrows down to only these words that I’m writing, these words that you’re reading. You’re inside my mind, which is singularly focused. Emma is vivid in my mind as I write, her hands cupping the cup. She’s contemplative. She’s getting more used to me now, my quietness, my stillness. She’s more familiar with me: my moods, my general constancy, the fact that I love her.
Her honey blonde hair is loose, and the soft breeze catches a lock, tickling her cheek with a delicate touch. Or was it my fingers, touching her warm skin?
Emma is singularly focused, eskişehir escort too. Just after we met, she said, “I need intimacy to restore trust and eroticism to restore life.” I reckon we’re doing both, but I’m fondest of our intimacy best. I mean, talking about anal sex in a cafe, with hot coffee in a cup, that’s very intimate, isn’t it?
As we get up from the table, I leave a tip for the waitress. The girl is young, she’s pretty. I quickly notice that, but it’s Emma I’m paying attention too. She looks at me and smiles. “It’s that undivided attention thing, isn’t it? I’m definitely not used to that.”
Emma loops her arm inside mine, and we walk together to the car. She’s small and slender beside me, barely reaching my shoulder. We walk with the same rhythm – she automatically adjusts her pace to her partner, an instinctive thing for a dancer. I can’t fly like she does though, I’m more a creature of water.
Bobbie has a small apartment in the south-west corner of the city and we’ve each got a key, so I take Emma there. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, and a lounge room, kitchen and laundry on the ground floor. There’s a permit system for parking in the street, which is a narrow, one-way thoroughfare. I usually name my roads and streets in my stories, but I need to check this one… my God, I’m so unimaginative: Smith Lane! Why on earth did I think of that?
Emma smiles. “Sometimes the truth a writer discovers, it’s mundane.” She looks up at me and there’s something in her clear blue eyes that catches me. “Sometimes, though, it’s far more complex. But I can’t describe it.”
I like that idea, that I’m beyond logic. I think Emma does too, standing next to me. Bobbie says, “It’s really simple. It’s love. You two, you’re wrapped intricately together now. You really should fuck, to bind you.” There’s a brevity in Bobbie’s words that counterpoints my prolixity.
I know what’s going on here. I’m circling around sex with Emma, but I’m stalling, I’m still not quite ready. I want to treat her with grace, with a slow sensuality. It’s selfish really – I want Emma to wrap herself around me, to whisper in my ear as she nuzzles my neck with her lips.
She looks up at me again. “You are, you’re taking me slowly, so carefully, you want to get it right. I really appreciate that. Most men I’ve known just use me, they don’t much care about me.” She touches my arm. “Bobbie’s right, though, we just need to fuck. Take me indoors, upstairs. I’ll take a quick shower. You can dry me.”
I unlock the front door, and place the car keys on the hall table. I watch Emma’s ass as she goes up the stairs. She’s got a sway, a slow slink. I make my way through to the kitchen, and pour myself some cold water from the fridge. I pour a glass for her, and follow her up the stairs.
She’s already in the shower, her clothes dropped in a tangle in the middle of the bathroom floor. I see the slim silhouette of her body, and the scent of soap eskişehir escort bayan and a delicately scented shampoo. She leans up against the frosted glass so I can see her, pushing her whole body against it, her arms stretched out wide. Her nipples press flat, and there’s an ever so slight mound of her belly, pushing up against the glass.
When Emma comes out from the shower I drop to my knees on the floor with a big wide towel in my hands. I wrap her in it, and suddenly Emma’s a young woman, wrapped up in a towel by her daddy.
She pulls another towel from the rack, and twists her hair up in it. “Your turn,” she says, and watches me as I strip. The water’s already running, but I have to tilt the shower head up, because I’m so much taller than Emma. I soap myself with the same soap, so my skin smells the same smell hers does.
When I step from the shower, Emma’s sitting on the edge of the sink, her arms and legs welcome wide. “Let me clamber onto you,” she says, as she wraps her limbs around me, her legs crossing behind my back. We’re skin against skin, and she’s laughing.
“I’m wet,” she says, “even though you dried me. I’m wet because you dried me, I reckon.”
I can feel her hot heat up against me, her dark centre against my cock. I’m rock hard, my cock is fully erect. Emma wriggles against it, but she’s tight, there’s resistance. When she looks at me, her pupils are dark.
“Fuck,” she whispers, “Fuck. I’m very… turned on.” She reaches for the small cupboard on the wall with the mirror on the door. “Bobbie has some lube in here somewhere. We use it when we fuck each other’s asses. The double pen isn’t as thick as you, though.” She finds the tube, flips the lid, and slathers my shaft with the lube. It’s cold on my cock, and Emma puts it on really thick. “I want to slide onto you quick,” she says, in a low voice, almost husky, so fucking sexy.
She’s still holding on to me, her arms around my neck. She reaches down, places my slick cock head right on the closed muscle of her asshole, and lets gravity and her weight do the work. The lube is thick, and Emma’s ass is so hot with her body’s internal heat, it doesn’t take me long to enter into her, my cock head past that tight place.
Her eyes open wide, and she moans. “Fuck,” she says quietly, “fuck.” She lifts her legs higher around my back, opening herself even wider. I’m two inches in, moving deeper, slowly deeper.
“Carry me to the bed,” she says, and I cup each ass cheek in a hand, and the movement, me walking, carrying her, fucks my cock deeper inside with each step. Emma’s ass is so tight, it’s exquisite. Better than coffee, drinking from a cup.
In the bedroom, I lie Emma down on the bed, my cock half in her ass, half out. The movement, the ten steps, made her moan, a jolting pleasure for her, and a glorious tight grip for me. I’m not going anywhere but deeper. Her ass is hot, and tight and I can feel her heartbeat, pulsing quick pulsing quick escort eskişehir within mine. I hold still, not moving, half in her ass, half out. She’s gazing up at me, her eyes drowsy, fuck drugged. Emma licks her lips, and her breath comes in quick small gasps.
“Fuck me gently,” she says softly, “fuck me quick.” I feel her body melt around mine, and in that moment her tight channel relaxes, let’s me slide deep deep deeper in and my whole shaft is inside her, the root of my cock pressing against her tight rim. I’m buried within Emma, and all I am is my cock.
“Fuck me hard if you want to. I’m used to that.”
I fuck Emma quietly, my eyes holding hers, watching her soul melt around mine. She reaches her hands up to my chest, pulling and tugging on my nipples. I do the same with her tits. Lying on her back her breasts are flat, but her nipples are erect, they’re firm and thick between my fingers. Emma licks her lips again, they’re dry from her quick panting breathing.
I fuck her ass faster, there’s heat and friction and quick sliding movement and her hips are bucking up, fucking her body back up to mine.
“I full, I’m so full, ohhhh, fuck, David, fuck me.” Her fingers are down on her clitoris, quickly moving, finding her rhythm there, flickering quick, finding the pace that she needs. “Fuck me!” In the base of my spine my own orgasm builds and we fuck faster, the smell of our sex filling the air, ass, cock, cunt, cream. We’re quicker now, fucking faster, her ass is slippery hot wet pulsing heat. Heartbeats are gone, our flesh is moving, fuck, oh my fuck, ahhh, Emma, my…
I’m frantic, my mouth sucking on her mouth, my tongue fuck fuck fuck, her tongue pushing into my mouth, suck suck suck, my cock is pounding her faster.
“More of that, more,” she says, “want you, want you, Christ how I want you, please, please…”
I fuck Emma faster, I’m close to coming, Emma, Emma, mmmm, her asshole clamps and grips me with a hundred very small hands, I’m going to, going to
explode my come into Emma, my cock pulses pulses pulses, pump pump, I cry out, fuck, my baby ohhh honey and with a long wail Emma comes too, her fingers fast in her pussy, then her hands are on my ass cheeks, she pulls me right into her body, deeper deeper, I can feel her heat thick hot around me and I’m coming inside Emma’s ass.
Fucking Emma in the ass is better than coffee, but when we talk about it in our regular cafe, it’s our talk that’s intimate, it’s our talk that’s revealing, it’s our words that make us ache.
Emma smiles, and she pushes her fingers under her bra strap. “Fuck,” she says. “If that’s what happens when you talk about it, I can only imagine what it’s like in your head. Can you taste what we’ll be like, when I finally take you to bed?”
“Look, there’s Bobbie,” I said. The girl came towards us.
“Christ,” she said, with a blush on her cheeks and a flush on her throat. “I felt that on the train.”
“Your favourite pole?” Emma asked.
“Nah, there was someone else on it.” She looked at us both, and grinned. “The one by the door was free, though.”
“Are you still wet?” asked Emma.
“Yah.”
“So am I.”
Under the table, two hands cupped the mound of my cock, and one of them squeezed.
© ElectricBlue 2024
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