Further adventures of Emily and Mike (names changed). Can be read in series or standalone, background in Ch. 1.
Tess-O'Meter - Green!
Mini Chapter.
The text I received from Emily sounded grumpy.
'Flight delayed. min 4 hrs. fix light. Crap. 35 hrs no sleep. Sucks!'
Before I even started to reply.
'FUUUCKSUUUCKS'
Oh dear. Someone missed their nap.
'Come home quick and I'll fuck and suck' I texted back.
A smiley face came back, followed by a grumpy, followed by a tearful.
Then - 'Sigh'
Then - 'Fuck and suck and lick and slurp and nibble and ROCK MY WORLD pls?'
I texted back. 'Sigh!'
Laughing, I started to pull on some running shorts, but then paused.
I was 6 hours from the airport. Em was going to be longer than that, she would be exhausted, plus she hated flying so also unhappy.
I didn't have any plans this weekend.
Why not a friendly face to come back to?
Grinning I switched for jeans, threw some gear in bag and an hour later was on the road.
Hotel room booked, with pool and spa.
I had worked a 60-hour week and now a 6-hour drive, but I was suddenly full of energy.
Which lasted until I hit traffic and spent nearly 2-hours waiting for an overturned water lorry to be cleared.
What, a lorry made of water, a lorry full of water, how long does it take to clear water for fucks sake, what is it - radioactive?
Nearly 9 hours after my spontaneous decision I raced into the airport to find Emily's flight was due in 40 minutes.
90 minutes later I watched her plod through arrivals. She looked deathly pale, dark bruises under her eyes and barely the energy to lift her feet.
I stood in her way and blocked her when she mumbled a sorry and tried to figure out how to change direction and move past me.
Finally, she gave up, squinted up at me and just stood blinking, her mouth open.
I grinned and gently unpeeled her fingers from her case, "Give me that."
"Did we land at the wrong airport?"
I laughed, "No, I just thought you could use a lift."
"You drove 6 plus hours to drive me another 2 hours in the wrong direction?"
"I think it was your fuck, suck, slurp text that did it!"
Emily started to laugh, slightly hysterically. Then she completely freaked me out, by starting to cry.
"Oh God, I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm just so tired."
"I know, come here," I pulled her in for a hug.
She leaned on me so hard I had to brace.
"I thought you would smell worse," I admitted, sniffing her hair.
A snuffly giggle came from somewhere below my chin.
"I showered at JFK, rude boy."
"Thank fuck," I said.
She pulled back and gave me a watery smile.
"We have a room; 20 minutes' drive and you can hit the pillow. Oh Shit," I panicked as she started crying again, "Shit, please stop that."
"Sorry, sorry," Emily waved her hand in front of her face, "I'm good, I'm okay."
A short while later I led Emily into our room and practically sleepwalked her into the bathroom.
We barely talked, just occasional murmurs, as she swayed in the shower, dozed, her head on my shoulder while I shampooed her hair, and nearly fell off the bed while I was toweling her mostly dry.
She rolled over to the pillow and crashed straight out with a thankful groan.
I pulled the duvet up and barely heard the whispered, "Best mate ever."
I sat next to her on the bed, easing the kinks from my neck.
I felt strangely wired and not ready to sleep.
Texted a mate.
No answer.
Went online.
All bad news.
I was horny, but I didn't fancy porn.
Actually, that was really concerning, was I dead?
Nope.
Weird.
I looked at Emily sleeping.
She was breathing hard, her body still on wind down from 5 or 6 terrifying hours in a small metal tube.
Not quite snoring.
Obviously in the morning I was gonna tell she was snoring.
That I got a complaint from reception.
I smirked, but then found myself watching her again and wondering.
Have you ever been out with a girl, who gets so drunk she literally passes out on you?
Yea, me too. Twice.
Did it make you get hot, thinking about how you could pose them naked in funny positions and post the pictures online?
Of course, I didn't. Don't be a knob. But I could've.
Or I could have slipped inside them and gotten myself off with them being none the wiser, as they were dead to the world in their self-induced coma.
Which of course I've never done either, despite the fact I was like - 19 at the time and it's a really hot idea.
What? Are you doubting me?
I'm not a complete asshole you know.
Sure, I like kinky sex. There's nothing wrong with that.
The key word there is consent.
Okay, I'll admit it. I've sailed a little close to the line a couple of times with Emily, but she's never called me out on anything.
I was worried after the Fuck Doll incident. I had never lost it like that before, that was pretty aggressive, it was sort of like sub-space in reverse.
Em was cool about that though. She was floating for days and she pointed out that if we were not going to push our limits, what was the point of our games.
I was still upset and embarrassed as my mate K- had been there when I lost control, and I know I did lose control.
Then Emily spoke to K- and discovered he was so drunk he doesn't remember anything about that part of the night.
The last thing K- remembers is coming inside Fuck Doll for the second time, after that it's a blur until he wakes up the next morning.
Thank God.
Emily said that on the subject of her pussy and my cock. When I'm Master, whatever my cock wants to do to her submissive pussy is fine with her, as long as I'm (as in Mike) around afterwards to take care of her.
It's possibly the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.
We are fuck buddies don't forget.
We like our cuddles and pampering and honestly, there have been times that it has been sweet and affectionate, and I love that, but ultimately, we are about pushing limits and fucking.
Between you and me, Emily likes it rough.
Me? None of your goddam business.
There is no way I would take advantage of a girl that like that, even if the idea is a super turn on.
Still don't believe me? Wow. Harsh crowd.
Let me tell you a story, about my sister.
Sweet 16, my Sis goes for a sleepover with some friends. My idea of hell. Imagining them looking at magazines and gossiping about boys.
What they are actually doing is putting on their new faces and taking their new fake ID's and talking their way into a club.
11.45 pm and I get a call.
My sister. Crying down the phone. Some guy brought her a drink, it tasted funny, she didn't drink much, went to the ladies bathroom and locked herself in.
I've been giving her the lecture since she was 13, so she knew what to do.
"Please Mike." She sobs. "Please help me, I don't feel right."
I drive into town so fast I can't even recall the journey. It's a lucky thing that I remembered to throw some clothes on first.
Walking right past the line at the club I approached the bouncers.
"Hey, I'm not queue jumping, my sister called me, she's sick in the ladies, asked me to come and get her."
"ID?"
"You're carding me?"
I huff and drag out my driver's license which gets passed back to a guy who looks like he had steroids sprinkled on his baby food.
He looks at my license and smiles.
"You're Mike? I've been waiting for you. Your sister is in the Managers office, I'll walk you up."
"Is she okay?" I asked as I followed him in.
"Yea." He reassured me. "A staff member found her and took care of her. We are looking for the guy she was with. It doesn't seem like she drank much, but the Paramedics are on their way to check her over. Don't worry."
He stopped talking as we entered the club itself, the music nearly blasting me back out. I love clubbing, but trying to follow the bouncer past writhing bodies, having way more fun that I was, was just irritating.
You wouldn't think it would be so hard to keep a guy not much short of 7ft in sight.
Someone grabbed my arm and I spun around to see a jerk who was in the year above me at school.
He leaned in close so he could shout in my ear.
"Hey Mike, long time no see. Have you seen your sister, I lost track of her?"
He pulled back, his bleary eyes trying to focus on mine in the dark. Once he registered the look on my face, he realized he had fucked up big time.
I launched myself forwards only to find myself flying backwards, as couple of arms like steel girders, pulled me back, knocking the breath from my lungs.
"Fucking bastard. I wheezed.
"Let us deal with him. Not worth you getting into trouble" The bouncer yelled in my ear, as his colleague grabbed jerk-face and dragged him off.
I stopped struggling, mainly due to becoming quite lightheaded.
"What?" the bouncer asked when I tried to speak.
"Oxygen." I shouted with the last of my air.
He released his grip and chuckling, guided me over the dance floor to a door.
Passing though dropped the noise down to less painful levels.
He looked concerned when he noticed me rubbing my chest.
"You okay? I didn't crack a rib again did I?"
I snorted and shook my head.
"I'm okay. What do you do for fun? Lift BMW's?"
He laughed and opened the office door. Inside was my sister, curled up on a sofa crying.
The look on her face was sheer relief when she saw me.
I amazed myself by striding across the office and demanding.
"What the hell do you think you are wearing."
We stared at each other in horror.
"Okay," I tried again, rubbing my face, "sorry, I'll stop channeling Dad, not sure where that came from."
The ironic thing is, anyone else wearing that outfit, I would be really turned on. On my sister it was just wrong.
She lifted her arms with the same look of trust as when aged 3-years old, she didn't understand why I couldn't pick her up the same way the grown up's did.
Dad had calmed her tears that day, while Mom took me to one side and kindly explained why, no matter what age the lady, you never used the word chubby.
Thankfully, my nearly adult Sis was slender and seemed to have stuck at 5.3ft, whereas, I had continued to a fraction under 6ft, so I was able to scoop her up and sit down with her snuggled on my lap. She immediately started crying harder.
"I feel strange."
"I know sweetheart, I've got you."
A couple of Paramedic's came in and one of them came over to crouch down.
The Manager quickly introduced me as the brother, so he fired some questions at me first.
