6. Not Blowing My Chance

I was at the same pub, propped up on the bar, looking around for a friendly face – and not finding one. A cryptic message from Elle brought me here, but she wasn't. My memories of Kay's surprise visit from a week ago were still vivid in my mind, still vivid in my underwear. After our initial frantic tumble, we had relaxed into conversation: it didn't seem strange that her dress remained bunched up above her waist, her sex glistening with moisture – I wasn't sure why we hadn't gone further, particularly as my erection raged the whole time, and for several hours after she had left until I could give myself relief in dark solitude.

"Hello stranger," said a lilting voice I didn't recognise. I turned to see raven hair run through elegant fingers, revealing dark eyes and a cheeky smile. She wouldn't be called beautiful in a classical sense – yet her sensuality shouted from her body, from her constantly moving hands, over her ever curving body, down to her bright red heels that raised her taller than me.

"Hey, up here!" she scolded playfully, lifting my face up from her slopes to feel the warmth of her breath on my cheeks. "Emma. I'm a friend of Elle's. Hopefully, becoming a friend of yours,"

"Hi ... Emma..." I stuttered.

"Call me Em. You look like you need another drink," and a few seconds after the smallest flick of a wrist, she presented me with a glass of something with bubbles. "Here's to us – and a wonderful night!"

She clinked our glasses and emptied her glass into her throat: I couldn't help but look at her lips, her chin, her neck, all the way down to her...

"Hey, up here – again!" she repeated, still playfully, "She said you got distracted."

"Elle was supposed to..." I started, but she just grinned broadly and shook her head.

"Elle asked you to meet at the pub, but only so you could meet me,"

She said the word "meet" like it was in quotes – I had an inkling of where this was going.

"Elle told me about the last time you two were here," she was melodic and breathy – and insanely arousing: what was she doing to me? "She also told me about the last time you two got out of here..."

Her hands now free of a drink, they draped themselves over my shoulders, pulling me closer to her so that her mouth was almost upon my ear.

"She said you had a wonderful tongue," she whispered coarsely, "and that I should try you for myself,"

I tensed and stood back, making her arms tight, as if she was stopping me from falling – perhaps she was?

"I can't," I said flatly, "I'm seeing someone and..."

"You want to," she stated – it wasn't a question. One hand went straight to cover the sizeable bulge in my jeans, though I'm sure she didn't need that evidence. I steeled myself again – with my words this time.

"Em, I find you immensely attractive – so forward and direct, so sexual," I started, never breaking eye contact – her confidence cracked a little bit of its supremacy, "but however much you arouse me, however much I want ... you – I couldn't..."

"Feels like you could ... right now," and with her last word, she popped the top button of my jeans and a finger snaked in to explore.

"I couldn't – what I feel for..."

" ... Kay – is it Kay, isn't it? Elle told me about her," she continued – both verbally and physically, two fingers now playing against my skin and twirling in my coarse hair.

"Yes, Kay. I wouldn't betray her."

Em stopped. She stared at me, without expression. Then her eyes softened – I thought she might cry – and her lips turned up into a smile that I almost, almost smothered with a kiss.

"You're a gentleman," she whispered – then with more breath in my ear, "and that makes me want you so much more," she finished her sentence and continued exploring my underwear.

"I was going to take you home," she started again, this time more timidly, and with some sadness, "I was going to take off all of your clothes, and take you in my mouth." Her fingers had found the tip of my straining erection, which was threatening to burst out. "And after I made you cum, and after I swallowed every drop, I was going to take off all of my clothes, and your mouth was going to make me cum. At least twice."

My mouth was dry, my underwear was getting a little damp.

"And then I was going to fuck you," – she almost spat the word at me, "God, I'm ready for you now!"

She offered me her other hand, as if to a Frenchman to kiss. I could see the shine on her fingers, smell the arousal she was offering me – if my lips parted, I was sure she would let me taste it.

"Are you sure you won't come home with me?"