Emily Exposed Pt 03

Drinks that night went off without a hitch. Paul was cool, her friends' bluntness was not off-putting and he wasn't the type that was easily shocked; he could match them story for story and even up the ante. It felt silly all of a sudden, there was nothing to worry about and no one asked much beyond his name. They decided to hop to another bar down the block; when they walked in Paul pulled Emily aside and whispered, "Is that a mermaid swimming above the bar, or am I more drunk than I thought?"

"You're cute" she whispered back, "it's not your imagination, it's a real girl swimming in the tank." She'd been there before; the drinks were okay but the concept was what attracted people. The girl in the tank swam by and waved at them, they all waved back and found a table.

"Alright, this round is on me, and everyone's chugging" her friend Cathy said, "whoever loses has to buy the next round."

Instantly everyone started to drink; inhale liquid is a more accurate description. Paul lost on purpose and smiled as they all downed their beverages...then he bought a round of hard liquor and all the girls drank as fast as possible again. A few more rounds came and at this point everyone was pretty sloppy, particularly Emily. Staying in shape was a big deal and as such she didn't drink much; alcohol had a lot of calories and made her lose control...two sides of the same coin really. Control of her body was important, and losing it wasn't something she did with glee. She stood up to use the restroom and stumbled a bit; at this Paul put his hand behind her back to steady her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah" she slurred, "the ground is wobbly, not me."

He smiled and looked at her friends, "I think we're done for the night. Is everyone okay getting home?"

A unison of "yeah", "come out with us anytime", and a few thumbs up followed; Paul smiled and gave them all a gentlemanly nod and walked out with Emily in tow. He knew they were within walking distance of her place but, being unfamiliar with the city and not wanting to have to carry her the whole way back, opted to hail a cab and gave the driver the address. As soon as they piled into the back, Emily rested her head on his lap and gave a comfortable sigh. Normally this would make him uncomfortable, but the mix of the drinks, the company, and her obvious content allayed those feelings. They pulled up in front of the building, he handed the cabbie cash for the fare and a tip and proceeded to wake Emily up.

"Em, we're here. You've got to wake up." She smiled a little faded smile and reached up for his arm; he pulled her up and they walked to the elevator, then to her loft, then as she started to fumble her body for the keys Paul dipped his hands into her pockets and pulled them out himself. He opened the door and she stumbled in behind him, wandering over to the couch and flopping lazily over the cushions. "You, my dear, are quite drunk" he said with a smile.

"Mmm, yes" she said quietly "I think you're right." She started to curl up on the couch and he sat next to her slowly; she moved her head on top of his lap again and closed her eyes. "You know what I also am" she said with her eyes closed, "horny as fuck. I want you to help me with that right now."

His eyebrows rose, "I don't know Emily; maybe you should get to bed. We can...revisit your request in the morning."

Her eyebrows scrunched, eyes still closed, "I know what I'm asking for" she said.

"You think you do, maybe. Drink some water."

She pouted, "I don't want water. I want you to do what I want you to do and you don't do it, ever."

"I don't make you happy?" he asked, rhetorically.

"You know you make me happy, you just don't do...what I want you to do. Like I said. And I can't coax you to or say anything to get you to and it's frustrating."

Paul closed his eyes and tilted his head back, exasperation beginning to cross his face "Emily, this is starting to frustrate me too. I like you; I'm turned on by you. And you're being, for lack of a better word, a little bit of a brat lately."

"A brat?"

"Yeah, like if I don't do what you want and you can't manipulate me to do it with your...ways, you get insecure and you pout. It's bratty and I don't like it."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him hesitantly, "You're not mad at me are you? I'm sorry for acting like that; please don't be mad. I'll stop, really."

He looked down at her, the exasperation replaced with softness instantly. "Hey, look at me. I'm not mad at you-even if I was you've got nothing to worry about. I don't like the look on your face right now, like you're afraid what'll happen if I get mad. We're just talking, and I'll never even raise my voice to you in anger, much less anything else."

She relaxed a little, unaware of the tension on her face. It was residual baggage, and she had to remind herself that things were different. "I know" she said, "but I am sorry. What do you want from me?"

"I just want you to be yourself. Accept my responses. I'm trying to be good for you and I like you and I don't like when you make it difficult for me to do that." Her faced was etched with disappointment and embarrassment at the words; she so wanted to be thought of as his equal and a woman and a brat was the opposite of those things. Seeing her face, Paul stroked her hair, then got up off of the couch. She laid there alone for about a minute, feeling stupid. Suddenly he was back, with a glass of water in his hand. She sat back up slightly and he said, "Scoot up".

"Huh?" she said in a haze.

"Scoot. Up."

She moved her body slightly up and started lifting herself off his lap when he stopped her, "I'm doing what you..."

"No, slide your body forward, don't get off my lap."

Her face scrunched again and she scooted forward, not leaving his lap. Suddenly, she felt a smack from behind, "Hey" she started, "what are..."

"Shhh" he said. He raised his hand, she flinched a little and he said soothingly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Emily, but I am going to demonstrate my displeasure at your attitude lately." He hit her bottom again, this time slightly harder, but it didn't hurt it was just...surprising. "Now take a drink of water" he said, giving her the glass. As she sipped he rubbed her back and let his fingers trail the length of her body. She drank almost the entire glass, then sat it down on the table next to the couch. She laid her head down again and he started to tease her, running his hands over her thighs, between her legs, but never where she wanted them to go. She wanted to squirm, and scream, and touch him back-but she stayed still, showing she was prepared to change her attitude. He carried on like this for almost ten minutes, slowly, frustratingly-when suddenly he slipped a single finger into her entrance.

"Mmmmm" she moaned.

"Oh-this was really getting to you wasn't it? You're so wet I could feel it down your thighs. I'm proud of you for being good though, very proud. Now, tell me what you want."

She looked back with trepidation; was this a trick? But he asked, so she answered "I want you to stop teasing me and fuck me."

Paul smiled, "I know. Stand up."

Emily stood, the water and the time spent relaxing cleared her head significantly and the ground was no longer wobbly underneath her feet. She looked at her clothes then at him, still sitting on the couch. He was looking over her body and assessing the feasibility of removing her sundress when she gripped the hem in front and started to lift the dress over her head, now standing in front of him in just a bra and panties. "I just wanted you to have a better view" she said with a smile.

Hi face suddenly got very serious and he said, "I want you to walk nine steps that way, heel to toe, and then walk back. In a straight line."

"Ooookay..." she said, and proceeded to walk to one side of the living room and back to the front of him.

"Now" he said, standing up and looking into her eyes "look at my fingers and follow them with your eyes, only." She followed his fingers with her eyes-it was a little difficult. When it was done she looked at him again, this time he moved behind her and put his hands around her waist. "Now" he whispered, "stand on one leg for me."

"You're giving me a sobriety test right now?" she asked with a giggle.

"Stand on one leg, Emily."

She lifted her left leg and started to stumble, luckily with the arm of the couch in front of her, and Paul behind her, there was no danger of falling and getting hurt. She just started to hold the position when she felt Paul's hands on her back, pushing her forward over the arm of the couch. "Hey" she said, "you cheated; I could've done it!"

He didn't respond, he knelt behind her and pulled down her panties, slipping them all the way off of her body. He stood again and unhooked her bra, letting it fall forward. His hands rubbed her back then gripped her waist and pulled her body into his. She felt him work his pants off of his body and his underwear down, freeing his length, then running it up and down her slit as a tease. "Is this what you wanted?" he said lowly, "Say it."

"Yeah" she moaned, "it's what I want."

With that he pushed himself into her, slowly at first, filling her body to the hilt. Then he slid out carefully and knowing her body had adjusted to having him inside her, pounded back in this time, hard. "Oh fuck" Paul said, then started using the couch and his hands on her waist as leverage to ram into her harder and faster. Emily screamed with pleasure every time he entered her, which only spurred his movements on. His hands trailed up and ended up on her shoulders, gripping each side and slamming her entire body into him.

"Oh yes, please don't stop, please don't stop" she cried.

He slowed down a bit, she was worried he was done, but instead she felt him lean over her body and whisper in her ear, "We're not stopping until you cum. I promise." Then he kissed the back of her neck and stood back up completely, pounding into her feverishly. The combination of his thrusting, the position, and his words threw her into a loop and she came within minutes. He felt her tighten and the walls of her pussy spasm and slowed his movements. He continued to rock in her, slowly, when suddenly he felt her body become...weightless? "What are you..." he started, then noticed her legs were no longer on the ground, her body was still leaning over the couch but she wrapped her legs around him from behind and was now rocking her body over his dick using her own legs as leverage against the couch. "How are you doing this?" he asked; it felt amazing but the position looked uncomfortable for her, to him.

"Yoga" she whispered, and continued her movements. She slipped his hands on her hips and continued to rock her body over his, her walls even tighter in this position since her legs were intertwined behind his back. Suddenly, she felt him cum inside her, the hot, sticky fluid run through the inside of her body. She smiled and looked back at his face, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed. She removed her body from his slowly then and rolled onto the couch, with Paul following right behind her.

They laid in silence for a bit, he finally broke the silence with "What was that thing you did, on the edge of the couch?"

"It's called the 'Scorpion Pose'" she said, "and if your body wasn't in the way I could've touched my toes to my forehead."

"No shit" he replied, "doesn't it hurt?"

"No" she said "I've been doing yoga a long time. Muscles adjust pretty easily at this point."

"Mmm" he said, closing his eyes, leaving it there.

"That's the first time I've ever had to pass a sobriety test" Emily commented with a half-smile.

Paul smiled with his eyes closed, "I don't know that I'd use the word 'pass', more like 'didn't completely fail'. If I was a police officer and you were driving I would have taken your keys away."

"Good thing I didn't want to do anything that complicated."

"Yeah, although I underestimated you; that Scorpion thing takes more coordination than I thought you'd have in this state."

"Mmm, yes. Maybe next time you'll estimate me" she kidded.

He half grinned at the bad joke and kissed her forehead, saying "I'm exhausted. If it's alright with you I'd like to get to bed."

"Yeah, me too" she agreed, "and as long as it's my bed I'm okay with it."

"Well, I certainly hope you wouldn't use me then send me to sleep in the spare room" he smirked.

They both got up and headed to Emily's bedroom; Paul had a flight home the next day and he held her tightly, not knowing when he would see her again, not even being able to define what it is they had. It was an intimate friendship, more mentally connected than friends with benefits but with distance and their lives being in every other way un-parallel, where could it go beyond these few days? 'A conversation that can wait until the morning' he told himself, and they fell asleep, blissfully ignorant of the decisions that lay ahead.