Amelia's Naughty Stories
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Teenagers, Hermaphrodite, FemaleDom, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Amelia, a school girl with something extra, attracts the attention of her beautiful teacher.
Amelia, a school girl with something extra, attracts the attention of her beautiful teacher.
Lila lay back on her bed. She had a forearm across her eyes and she was moaning softly. Her long chestnut brown hair fanned out on the pillow. Her D-cup breasts rose and fell in time with her moans. Past her flat tummy and between her long tapered legs a head topped with short black hair worked feverishly at Lila's shaved pussy.
"Fuck, yeah," cried out Lila as she grabbed at the dark hair of the other woman. Pulling her face tight against her wet cunt, Lila rode out her orgasm, writhing and bucking against the tongue that had invaded her pussy. When her orgasm subsided, Lila rolled over onto her side and scrunching the pillow under her head. She watched as Patricia, her face covered in vaginal juices, retreated to the bathroom.
Patricia was the physical education teacher for Roosevelt High. She certainly looked the part. Her short, black hair was cut in a style more suitable for a boy, and she had practically no tits or ass on her slender frame.
Lila must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Patricia was standing next to the bed in her slacks, knit shirt and athletic shoes. "I cleaned up the bathroom," she said in a shy, eager to please voice.
"Mmmph," said Lila into her pillow.
"Well, I'll see you at school tomorrow, then," said Patricia.
"Mmmmph," agreed Lila. She rolled over and was back to sleep before Patricia could get out the door.
Lila was the English teacher for the advanced students as Roosevelt. She was also the school's resident sex goddess. In bare feet she stood just over six feet tall. Her thick, luxurious chestnut hair fell nearly to her waist. Using Patricia as her personal trainer, as well as sex toy, she stayed seriously fit. Although she dressed conservatively for school, in more revealing outfits, her smooth, bulging muscles were quite evident. No one with her outstanding bust line and curvaceous hips would ever be called trim.
The bell sounded for the end of the last class of the day, and Lila followed the last of her students to the classroom door as they rushed out. It was her job to monitor the hall for any wrong doing as the students streamed out of the school. She didn't mind this part of her work. It was amusing to see how the students reacted to her presence. Most of the boys ogled her figure as they hurried by. The very few that caught her eye always quickly looked away. Most of the girls gave her an envious or jealous glance as they passed by, but there were others who smiled up at her with meek expressions. They were like Patricia, they looked eager to please, almost worshipful.
It took only a few minutes for the rushing river of students to become a trickle. Lila returned to her desk. She still had an hour or so of work. She pulled out her laptop and began to fill in the paperwork that went with her classroom work. She was typing in a series of test scores when there was a gentle tapping on her open door. She looked up to see Cathy Phillips, the school principal. Cathy was an average looking woman in her forties. She had severely permed dark hair and today she was wearing an unflattering, tweed suit. Cathy could be a real ball buster when aroused to anger, but she always seemed to be quiet and restrained around Lila.
"Do you have a minute?" Cathy asked.
Cathy came into the room and took a seat at one of the student's desks. "Something's come up, and I'm hoping that you can help me with it."
"What's that?" Lila asked. She sat back, crossing her legs and giving the principal her attention.
"The school board's computer Compliance Coordinator found something on one of the machines in the library," said Cathy.
Lila nodded. The coordinator, better known as the 'computer Nazi, ' visited the local schools and checked out the computers in order to make sure that the students weren't doing anything they shouldn't. He was actually a nerdy young man named Rodney who always had a cup of coffee in his hand. He had the annoying habit of explaining technical matters at a thousand words a minute, and then looking faintly confused when people couldn't keep up.
"Somebody stored a couple of partial short stories on the computer's hard drive. They deleted the stories, but of course nothing is erased on a drive until it's overwritten. The coordinator's snooper program picked them up." Cathy reached into a pocket of her jacket and brought out a floppy disk and held it up for Lila to see. "I have a copy of the stories. They're hardly more sexually graphic than what you find in the romance section of the local book store, but the coordinator had to make a report to the board, and now I have to make a reply."
"How can I help?" asked Lila.
"The coordinator couldn't tell who wrote the stories. The computer is a stand alone and the student didn't have to sign in to his school network account. So I was hoping that you could read the stories and see if you recognized the writing style. I'm assuming it was one of your juniors or seniors." She stood, handing the floppy out to Lila.
Lila eyed the piece of plastic thoughtfully. "So what will happen to the student?" she asked.
"I'm thinking some term of expulsion," said Cathy, "the school board will be expecting that."
And you certainly wouldn't want to disappoint the board, thought Lila. It was no secret that Cathy's next step up the school administration ladder was to be the district superintendent. She took the floppy and said, "I'll take a look at it and get back to you."
"Tomorrow's Friday and I'm going out of town, but I'll be in the office on Saturday. I'd like to have this wrapped up by Monday."
Lila frowned at the arbitrary deadline. Cathy wanted the student tried and hung by sundown in order to make herself look good. "I'll read it tonight," she said levelly.
"Good," said Cathy, looking at Lila's cloudy face. "Well, I'll see you later, then," she said, suddenly sounding nervous as she backed out the door.
Lila walked into her bedroom. She was wearing a soft yellow silk robe and carrying her laptop. She fluffed up the pillows on her king sized bed and sat back in the center with the computer on her lap.
Patricia padded into the room on bare feet. She was wearing sweats and a tank top. "You're going to work?" she asked, clearly sounding disappointed.
"Yeah," Lila sighed, "some student's left a series of naughty stories on one of the school computers. Cathy wants me to figure out who-done-it by reading the story and seeing if I recognize the writing style."
"Ohh... naughty stories," said Patricia with a giggle. "Can I read along?"
"I suppose," said Lila. She brought up the first story on the computer's screen as Patricia snuggled to her side.
Lila and Patricia read:
Emma's story. The spacious office was comfortably cool. The late afternoon sun, filtered through the darkened windows, shown on two men. Marcus Fields sat behind his desk with a phone to his ear. "So you're going to approach Charlie tonight?" he asked in his soft southern drawl. He nodded absently at the answer. The conversation went on for a few minutes, and ended when he said, "OK, honey, let me know how it turns out. Bye."
Fields glanced from the phone to the younger man sitting across the desk. "Alright, your man got Black to pick Emma, she's in."
Adam Fuller nodded. "I'm glad to help. It's hard to believe that you can't take this situation to the Justice Department."
Fields pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. "Four straight Republican administrations have gutted business regulation. Justice won't touch a case of industrial espionage unless it's wrapped up with a pretty, pink bow. First we have to establish a connection between Black over at Deville and whoever he's got in my company."
"I'm sure that Emma will be able to do her part," said Fuller.
"Do you know my daughter?"
"We worked together in Columbia," said Fuller. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "We were close... very close. She was working for me when she almost got killed."
"I see," said Fields.
Charlie Reed rested his elbow on the bar, and then he rested his head on his fist. His co-worker, Sam, droned on about something or another while Charlie looked over the happy hour crowd at the local watering hole. The place was full of business types unwinding from their day. He shifted his weight on his bar stool, suddenly aware that he had a full bladder from the beers he had been drinking. He held up his finger in front of Sam's face and said, "Hold that thought, I have to go to the men's room."
Charlie made his way between the tables in the bar and stepped into the bathroom. Harry's Bar and Grill, that was the name of the watering hole, was known for its restrooms. Locals had been known to bring their out of town friends here, just to see the expression on their faces after a trip to the bathroom.
Charlie walked past the sinks and stalls and stood at one of the urinals. He pulled his cock from his pants and unleashed a stream of used beer. Once he had things flowing, he peered through the darkened glass that began at chest level and made up the top half of the wall beyond the urinal. At that point he was looking into the woman's restroom next door.
A young woman on the other side of the wall was looking back at him. At least it seemed as if she was looking at him. Due to a trick of lighting in the ladies room, the sheet of glass was used as a mirror as well as for its main purpose of providing a peep show for both sexes. The young woman swept a strand of auburn hair behind an ear, and then pointed a finger directly at Charlie. She made a brushing gesture at her cheek.
Charlie tentatively reached up and brushed at his own cheek. He felt something fall away. It must be a crumb from the corn chips I've been snacking on at the bar, he thought. The girl smiled, nodded, and then turned. Charlie enjoyed the view as she walked away. The girl was wearing a yellow summer dress that showed off a healthy looking athletic figure.
Charlie's bladder finally emptied and he put away his cock. He washed his hands and checked his face for more crumbs in the conventional mirror above the sink. He wasn't the greatest looking guy in the world but he was tall, slim and had at least average looks.
As he emerged from the restroom, Charlie came face to face with the girl in the summer dress who had just come from the ladies room. "Hi," he said, "thanks for your help."
"No problem," said the girl, "there's nothing worse than coming home and realizing that you've had food plastered to your face or a booger hanging from your nose."
Charlie barked out a laugh. This girl was funny as well as cute. "Can I buy you a drink to thank you?" He really wasn't in the habit of trying to pick up girls in bars, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity.
"Well, I'm supposed to meet someone," she said, and then a ringing sound came from her purse. She pulled out her cell phone and checked its display. "Here he is now."
Charlie gave her a smile and wave. He turned to go back to the bar; he didn't want to eavesdrop on her conversation. He was surprised when the girl grabbed his sleeve and held him back. Her end of the phone conversation was terse. Clearly, she wasn't pleased with whoever was on the other end.
"Well," she said as she snapped her cell closed and stuffed it back in her purse, "apparently I'm free for that drink you offered. My date's cancelled." She looked thoughtfully at Charlie. "Or, if you have the time, I have a reservation at a restaurant around the block. It would be a shame to let it go to waste."
Charlie grinned at her and said, "Let me go tell my friend that the prettiest girl here has asked me out to dinner. I'll be right back."
The restaurant turned out to be small and exclusive. The head waiter greeted them as if they dined there nightly and showed them to a table. They settled on a glass of house wine and an appetizer to open the meal. After the wine was poured, Charlie raised his glass and said, "Hi, I'm Charlie Reed."
"Oh," the girl said, startled. "I guess I should have introduced myself. My name is Emma Peel."
"Nice to meet you, Emma," he said. "We might as well get right to the trite questions. What do you do for a living?"
"I'm an intra-city courier," she said, after sipping from her glass.
"You're one of those guys who go zipping around on a bicycle?" he asked.
"No, too slow, I use a motorcycle."
"Oh my God," said Charlie, "you're one of those kamikaze pilots."
"That's me," she said with a grin.
"I've always envied you guys, running up between the lanes of traffic, breaking all the rules." Charlie said.
"Yeah, it's all fun and games until I'm sliding down the street on my ass at sixty miles per hour."
"That's happened to you?" he asked, surprised.
"Not yet, I'm too good," she said confidently. "But my boss keeps telling me that it will if I don't slow down. So, what do you do?"
"I do computer programming for a company called Hanes & Fields. We do high-tech research and development," he said.
"Sounds interesting," said Emma, "what are you working on?"
"It's an application that will allow free form interaction between different groups of mass actors with disparate programming protocols," Charlie said. What he had just said was all gobbledy-gook. He was actually working on some stuff his company hoped to sell to the military, and he couldn't talk about it.
"That sounds interesting," Emma said, sounding mystified. "I'm sure that it will be very helpful - to someone?" she ended lamely.
"It's not a bit interesting," he said with a laugh. "But thanks for saying so."
They talked all through their meal. Charlie was absolutely captivated. Emma could talk about anything. She cracked jokes, and even better, laughed at his. She flirted shamelessly, and then acted as if she hadn't. He was beginning to send up silent prayers that whoever had broken his date with her wasn't a steady boy friend.
He was about to ask if he could take her home, or at least get her number, when she said, "How would you like some dessert?"
Charlie looked down at his plate and then back at Emma. "We just finished a chocolate something-or-another that had enough calories to keep us alive for a week. What other kind of dessert did you have in mind?"
Emma smiled at him with a gleam in her eye and said, "Follow me."
Charlie trailed Emma's swaying hips through the dining area and down a flight of stairs. The restrooms for the restaurant were in its basement. But Emma stopped short of the bathrooms in front of a door that was marked for employees only. She glanced around as if to see if anyone was looking, and then opened the door and beckoned for Charlie. He followed her into a small room with harsh florescent lighting. There were wine racks against the walls and cases of liquor stacked on the floor. "We shouldn't be in here," he said.
Emma put her hands on his chest, and then ran them up to his neck. She drew his head down and gave him a long, hard kiss on the lips. "No, we shouldn't," she said with a salacious grin when they drew apart. Then she was kissing him again, with her tongue in his mouth and her hand on his crotch.
Between the wine and Emma's flirting Charlie had enjoyed a happy glow in his cock all evening. Now it blossomed into a full steel erection at her touch. "We could get caught," he said, even though he sincerely didn't want her to heed the warning.
Emma reached behind her back. There was the sound of a zipper opening, and then Emma shrugged off the straps of her dress to reveal two perfect breasts. They were full and rounded with tapered areolas peaked with perky nipples. She took Charlie's hand and rubbed his palm on one of those nipples. Emma quietly moaned in pleasure and said, "The fear of getting caught makes me horny as hell."
Charlie growled deep in his throat. He didn't want his hand to ever leave her warm, firm breast. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and drew her body close. Their lips and tongues mashed against one another frantically. Charlie found himself dry-humping his turgid cock against her hips.
Emma broke off their kiss and whispered, "Just a moment, baby." She reached beneath her loose skirt and a second later there was a wisp of panties in her hand. She looked around and then took a seat on the edge of some stacked boxes. She pulled her skirt up to her waist and then looked Charlie in the eye. "I'm already hot and wet for you," she said eagerly as one of her middle fingers disappeared into her shaved pussy.
Charlie's eyes were as big as saucers. All thoughts of being caught, indeed, any sort of thinking in general left his brain. The only thing he wanted right now was to get the head of his aching dick past that pretty pink slit. In seconds his pants and shorts were around his knees. Emma's legs wrapped around his waist as he leaned forward. His knees were bent, his back was arched, one hand grabbed at a wine rack for support. It was a painfully awkward position for a fuck. But none of that mattered when he felt her hot, wet flesh engulf the head his cock.
"Oh, that's it," moaned Emma.
Charlie plunged his cock as far as possible into Emma's tight cunt. He began to hump her as fast as he could manage. More than once his cock slipped out. Once it painfully skidded down the front of the box on which Emma sat. But somewhere in the back of Charlie's mind, he was very pleased with himself. He hadn't shot off like a firecracker like he usually did at this level of excitement. Maybe it was his aching muscles or all the wine he'd had at dinner, but he was lasting much longer than usual.
Suddenly, Emma's legs tightened around his waist. She grabbed at his shoulders as her head lolled back and her mouth stretched open. Her breath came in hollow gasps and her cunt milked at his thrusting cock. He couldn't help himself; Emma's orgasm triggered his release. He grabbed her hips and fired shot after shot of hot cum deep into her pussy.
When his dick finally stopped twitching, he looked up to see Emma grinning at him. "I didn't mean to make you work that hard," she said.
Charlie felt a drop of sweat roll off his nose and land on his chin. "It's worth it," he said with a smile.
"It was wonderful," agreed Emma. "But we better get cleaned up and back to our table before they think we skipped on the bill."
Charlie practically staggered across the hall and into the men's room. He splashed some water on his face and took a few minutes to get his breathing under control and his clothes straightened. He made his way back to their table, but Emma wasn't there yet. He took his seat, assuming that she was still in the restroom.
Their waiter approached and turned over Charlie's coffee cup. As he poured from a steaming carafe, the waiter said, "The young lady ordered coffee and paid for your meals. She said to tell you that she had a wonderful time, however she had to leave."
Charlie was stunned. He looked about the dining room to see if he might catch Emma before she left, but she wasn't there. He looked up at the waiter and said, "I didn't even get her phone number."
The waiter raised one eyebrow as if to say, yeah you really screwed up, pal. But all he said aloud was: "Perhaps you would like some cognac with your coffee?"
The next day at work, Charlie spent about one minute at work for every ten minutes he spent thinking about Emma. He winced every time he remembered that he had no easy way to get in touch with her. As lunchtime neared, he considered using his time to call each of the delivery services in the area until he found her. He was actually reaching for the phone, when it began to ring.
"Charlie Reed speaking," he said into the handset.
"Charlie, it's Emma," he heard.
"Hey," he said, "I missed you last night."
"I'm sorry about that," she said, "something came up, but I'm here to make it up to you now."
"Yeah, I'm down in the lobby. I wanted to see where you work and take you to lunch," she said, "but the guard down here won't let me in."
"Hang on, I'll be down there in a minute," he said.
Emma wasn't hard to spot as he approached the security desk in the lobby of his building. She was wearing a light gray motorcycle riding suit. The material fit her like another skin. Her auburn hair fell in gentle curls to her shoulders. If anything, she looked sexier today than she had last night. She was holding a pair of sunglasses that she twirled about by one of its earpieces.
"He wouldn't let me come up to see you," she said, nodding at the security guard as Charlie approached.
"He's not supposed to let you," said Charlie, "besides, my office is nothing to look at."
"Oh, come on, It'll let me get to know you better."
Charlie shrugged mentally. His office was off limits, but there was really nothing of a sensitive nature to see. All of his work was on his computer and it was password protected. Charlie looked at the security guard. "OK, Gordon? Just a quick look around, then we'll be gone to lunch."
The security guard was an elderly, retired policeman. He had thin white hair and looked as if a giant had squashed the features of his face together between thumb and forefinger. "It's up to you," he said to Charlie. He picked up something that looked like a child's plastic ball bat, and walked around his desk toward Emma. "I'll have to wand you first," he said.
"I don't think it'll fit," said Emma with a smirk at Charlie.
"Like I haven't heard that one a thousand times," grumbled Gordon as he ran the sensor wand around Emma's shapely figure.
Gordon put the wand on his desk and picked up a plastic visitor pass. The pass was about three by five inches with an alligator clip on one end. He handed it to Emma and said, "Wear this some where visible at all times."
Emma took the pass and looked down the front of her aerodynamic suit. After hesitating a second, she pulled the zipper of her jacket down until she revealed a white scoop-neck tee shirt and a bit of cleavage. She clipped the pass to her zipper tab so that the pass dangled in the air beneath her breasts.
"Like this?" she asked Gordon, innocently.
Gordon looked as if he had just bitten into a lemon. "Whatever, young lady, just be sure that you give it back when you leave."
"I like him," said Emma as she and Charlie left the security station.
When they got to Charlie's office, he said, "Hang on a second, I have to unlock the door." Emma watched Charlie as she leaned against the wall and held the tip of the earpiece of her sunglasses thoughtfully against her pursed lips. He took his employee identification tag, that hung around his neck on a lanyard, and swiped it through the slot on a keypad next to the door. Then he tapped in a series of numbers on the pad and the locked clicked open.
She followed Charlie into his office. It was a room about ten feet on a side. Two unfinished I-beams ran the length of the room near the ceiling. One wall was taken up by a desk and shelving. On the opposite side of the room was a large display panel that was currently acting as a window. It looked as if it were showing the view from a camera on the top of the building.
"Well, I love what you haven't done with the place," said Emma as she glanced around the basically bare room.
Charlie laughed and shrugged. "I'll have to admit, I'm not much of a decorator."
Emma pointed to a corkboard above Charlie's desk. There was a calendar as well as notes and business cards pinned there. "I don't see any pictures of a wife, girlfriend or children." she said, half asking a question.
Charlie grinned and said. "Is that what you came in here to see?"
"Well, a girl likes to know these things," she said. "Some plants and couple of wall hangings would make things more homey in here." She took him by the arm. "But for now, let's go to lunch. I have a treat for you."
Emma flipped her visitor's pass back onto Gordon's desk with a wink and a smile at the guard as they passed his station. She and Charlie left the building and immediately found themselves next to Emma's bike. She had parked it on the walkway leading to the building.
"You couldn't find a parking space?" Charlie asked.
"Right here," said Emma, waving at the bike as if it were perfectly obvious that she should have parked it on that spot.
"Oh, well, right," said Charlie, giving into her flippant attitude. He looked over the bike. It was larger than the street racer bikes that he had seen zipping around town. There was a storage area above the rear wheel. Obviously, a courier would need something like that. All in all, the bike looked too big for someone of Emma's size.
"What kind is it?" he asked. There didn't seem to be any sort of decal or badge.
"It's based on an old Honda design, but it's been beefed up. It has a twenty-k motor and a power cell that will last for a week, plus an active suspension and adaptive brakes." While she talked, Emma opened the storage area. The thing broke down into a series of panels that she flipped and folded and slid around until a rear seat appeared, complete with backrest. When finished, she was standing there with two helmets in her hand. She presented one of the helmets to Charlie and said, "Here, put this on."
Charlie handled the helmet as if it might blow up any second. He'd never been on a bike before. "That's OK, my car's not far. We can take it," he said.
"Don't worry," said Emma. "I'm a good driver." She leaned to one side, flipping her hair forward over one shoulder. She gathered it up in one hand, and with a twist she piled her hair on top of her head and pulled her helmet on. She took Charlie's helmet from his hand and clamped it on his head.
Charlie felt the helmet wobble about on his head, then Emma did something and he heard a click. There was a hiss and he could feel the lining of the helmet press around his head.
"Can you hear me?" Emma's voice came from inside the helmet.
"Yes," he answered.
She gestured at the bike and said, "Hop on."
Charlie hesitated, but his fear of being thought less of by Emma won out over his fear of riding. He threw his leg over the seat and settled down.
Emma literally hopped onto her seat. She said, "Myrtle, power up," as she grasped the controls.
Charlie felt a slight vibration. He figured that Emma must have some sort of voice communication with the bike. "You named your bike Myrtle?" he asked.
"Yeah, doesn't she look like a Myrtle?"
Charlie rolled his shoulders in a massive shrug, although he knew that Emma couldn't see it. "If you say so," he said.
"And she knows you're back there so do me a favor and hold onto those grab-bars under your seat, otherwise she'll whine about safety all the way there. By the way, just where do you live?"
Charlie gave her his address. He lived in a development about fifteen miles away. "But in the lunchtime traffic, that's kind of far, isn't it? I mean, there are plenty of places to eat closer."
"I thought that we might have a little noontime dessert," she said in a suggestive voice.
"Oh," said Charlie, remembering Emma's idea of dessert. The stand for the bike snapped into place, and then they were rolling into the parking lot. Charlie reached for the grab-bars.
They moved sedately through the lot and onto the road that fronted the campus of Hanes & Fields. Charlie took a deep breath and tried to relax. The sun and wind felt nice, and there was a wonderful sense of freedom about this motorcycle business. Maybe I ought to get one, he thought. Emma turned onto the ramp for the cross town expressway. She accelerated smoothly into the four lanes of traffic. And then she continued to accelerate, a lot.
Charlie took a deep breath. Even the slowest cars on this stretch of highway moved at well over the posted speed limit, and Emma was passing them all. They constantly changed lanes and slalomed neatly through the traffic. He had to admit that she seemed to sense what the other drivers would do and where they would go before they actually did it. He let the air out of his lungs in a long sigh and tried to relax. "Do you usually drive this fast?" he asked, wondering if she was just trying to impress him.
"Oh no," she said, "With your weight on the bike, I'm taking it easy." They went through a major interchange, and the traffic thinned considerably. "Now we can make up some time," she said.
Charlie felt the bike accelerate. And then it just kept on accelerating. He fought the airflow to look over Emma's shoulder to see if he could read the speedometer, but there was nothing there. "Where does Myrtle hide her gages?" he asked.
"There's a heads-up display on my helmet visor. Why?"
"I was wondering how fast we were going," he said. Suddenly, there was a huge roar of sound, and a blur of movement to his right. He turned his head and saw a dozen interstate trucks moving in convoy. He knew that they were probably doing at least eighty. He and Emma had just passed the entire group in the blink of an eye.
"Do you really want to know?" she asked.
"No, that's OK," Charlie said softly. He watched as they hurtled toward the next interchange with frightening rapidity. He saw a pickup shaped dot come down an onramp and disappear in front of a clump of cars. Suddenly, brake lights flashed, the cars in the clump swerved to avoid one another as the truck forced its way into an interior lane, and then all the lanes of the highway were occupied. Emma was on the brakes even before Charlie had realized what was happening. But even a non-rider like himself could tell that they couldn't possibly bleed off enough speed to avoid becoming somebody's bloody bumper ornament.
"Hold tight," said Emma coolly.
Charlie could have sworn that his hands and arms were already in danger of snapping the grab-bars, and that his thighs might just crack the power cell that they were clamped onto. But he found a whole other degree of tension as the rear of a SUV grew to fill his vision.
At the last instant before impact, Emma released the brakes and heeled the bike over. Charlie could have sworn that the sleeve of his jacket dusted the fender of a nearby car, and that the leg of his khakis had flapped against the bumper of the SUV as they dived between the two vehicles.
"Charlie?" said Emma.
"Yes?" he managed to answer, after three attempts to get some air in his lungs.
"Myrtle says that you're in danger of warping her suspension."
He managed another breath and said, "Tell her that my muscles may be cramped like this permanently."
When they finally came to a stop in front of his small, prefab house, Charlie staggered off the bike. He took a step, but then he had to lock his knees and steady himself by leaning against the bike. He watched as Emma took off her helmet and shook her hair into place. Then she did her thing with his helmet. There was a whoosh of air, a release of pressure and suddenly the thing came off his head. Charlie felt the fresh air cooling the sweat from his brow. Emma was standing there, looking at him expectantly, but he was afraid to move and had to confess, "My knees seem to be a little wobbly."
"Yeah," she said brightly, "it's the adrenalin rush. Isn't it great?"
"Just fantastic," he said weakly as he managed to push away from the bike and walk stiffly toward his front door.
By the time they reached his bedroom, Charlie was feeling better. He was standing next to his bed, unsure now of just exactly what Emma had on her mind about 'dessert', when she put both hands to his chest and shoved him into a sitting position on the bed.
"You're still looking a little gray," she said as she straddled his hips, pinning him to the bed. "Let me see if I can get some color back in those cheeks."
She bent over and gave him a long, firm kiss. Her tongue went into his mouth and the kiss got wetter and looser, especially when she began to take off his clothes. Emma slipped his jacket off his shoulders and threw it over her head so that it landed on the floor across the room against a dresser. Off came his shirt and with it the lanyard with its employee pass. They joined his jacket on the floor.
Emma had to get off the bed at that point. She slid Charlie's loafers off his feet and then moved up to his belt. Soon his pants were with his other clothes. He was obviously aroused. The bulge of his cock lay outlined in his jockey shorts. Charlie moved his hands towards his underwear, but he stopped when Emma slapped him sharply on the knuckles.
"That's my job today," she said. Emma proceeded to give Charlie a striptease. She slowly peeled away her riding suit while doing a bump and grind.
Charlie thoroughly enjoyed the show. Emma had just enough muscle definition to show that she was in great shape. In fact, he was beginning to feel self conscious, like he was some old time porn star with his soft tummy and still wearing his dark socks.
Emma came over and picked up Charlie's foot. She pulled off his sock and began to knead the sole of his foot with her thumbs. "Are you a foot guy?" she asked.
"Not really," he said, "but that does feel good."
Emma lifted his foot higher and began to tickle the sole of his foot with the nipple of one her firm breasts. "Now I'm a foot guy," he said with a laugh. "Or maybe just a weird breast man."
She licked and kissed and teased her way down his thighs. When she reached his crotch, she gently nibbled at his cock through his shorts. "Time to get to heart of the matter," she said, grinning at Charlie. Then she pulled down his shorts, and his freed cock popped into the open. Emma proceeded to make out with his rigid manhood. She kissed it, petted it, stroked it and laved it with her tongue. Every few seconds, she would take half his dick in her mouth and suck until the head was swollen into a near painful state.
Charlie couldn't remember the last time he had been so aroused for so long. It felt like the head of his dick was going to pop open any second. His body twitched and heaved about of its own accord. Every time he raised his arms to do something, Emma would swat them back down.
Finally, Emma crawled on top and slipped his almost numb cock into her tight pussy. Oh shit, it's about time, he thought. He was ready to pound her cunt like a jackhammer. But she wasn't about to let that happen. Somehow, she got all her weight on his thighs, and she used her hands to pin his arms to the bed. She had a taunting smiled on her face, as she slowly fucked him.
"You're killing me," he gasped as he tried to hunch his hips up to meet her downward stroke on his cock.
"Just trying to show you a good time," she said. Emma sped up her pussy on his cock and brought him to the edge of orgasm before she stopped completely.
"Please, please" he moaned. He was at the point of sincerely begging for it.
"Oh alright," she said. "You've been a good boy." Emma tightened her slick pussy on his dick and pumped her hips until his cock swelled and shot its hot load. His entire body vibrated in orgasm for a good half-minute, and then he went limp as a wet rag.
Emma rolled off of Charlie's sweaty body. He smiled in contentment and crossed his arms over his chest, as he rolled on his side into a fetal position. Emma spooned her body to his and hugged him with one arm. "Let's take a little nap," she whispered in his ear.
In less than a minute, Charlie's breathing became deep and regular. Emma waited another two minutes before she eased off the bed. She went over to the pile of clothing that she had created. She found the jacket of her riding suit and pulled what looked like two plain white plastic cards from an inner pocket. She fished Charlie's employee ID card from the pile of clothes, and placed it between her two plastic cards. She took the corners of the cards between her fingers and bent them until she heard and felt a soft snap. She held all three cards together for a full minute before putting them back where she had found them.
Emma gathered up her clothes and went into the bathroom. She cleaned up the gooey mess Charlie had made between her legs and then dressed. She checked her look in the mirror, and ran her fingers through her hair. Her thick auburn tresses could use a few minutes with a brush, but she knew that they would just be stuffed back under that helmet in a few minutes. She gave herself a half satisfied shrug at her appearance and left the bathroom. Charlie was softly snoring, so she made her way into the kitchen. She checked the refrigerator and found a small bag of apples. She took one, and after rinsing it off, she took a loud, juicy bite. Chewing on the apple she went back to the bedroom.
Emma shook Charlie by the shoulder. When his eyes snapped open, she said around the mouth full of apple, "Let's go honey, we need to get back."
Charlie watched as Emma pulled away on her motorcycle. Their ride back to Hanes & Fields hadn't been nearly as hair-raising as the one to his house. He slowly made his way up the walk back to his office. He didn't know which was the stronger sensation: the satisfied ache in his depleted cock, or the hungry ache in his empty stomach. He certainly hadn't had anything to eat on his lunch break. He opened the door to the building, and saw Gordon sitting at his security post. The man was reading a newspaper and munching on a sandwich.
Charlie gave Gordon a weak smile as he passed by. Then he stopped short, and turned back to the security man. He said, "You know, I still don't have that girl's number."
Gordon cleared his throat loudly and looked at Charlie's windblown clothes and matted hair. "Maybe that's all for the best," he said.