Unconventional

A short

Little Emily Dreams

story

Part of the

Virtual Literotica Convention 2025

event

— — —

Thank you to

Freya Gersemi

for creating and organizing this new event, and for allowing some of her characters to appear in cameo. Thank you also to my friend,

Djmac1031

, for trusting me with his two most cherished characters. I hope I did them justice.

One further thing: if the meaning of the emoji section dividers is not clear to you, maybe this isn't your kinda story 😊.

— — —

Unconventional

by Emily Miller

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Wait! What had the PA said? I listened intently, hoping the announcement would be repeated.

Paging Emily Williams. Passenger Amy Stevens-Byrne, arrived on UA 2718, is waiting at the United Information Desk by Baggage Claim...

Static masked the actual number. Fuck! How had we missed each other? And where the Hell was the Information Desk? This was my first trip to Washington, and I had no clue.

I saw a group of United flight attendants, chatting among themselves as they pulled their carry-ons, and took the opportunity.

"Sorry to interrupt, were you on 2718?" I got nods in reply and continued, "Where's the Information Desk?"

One of the women gestured over her shoulder. "There are three; by baggage claim six, eleven, and fourteen, six is just there"

Offering my thanks, I walked quickly in the direction she had indicated. No one was at six, but as I approached eleven, I saw a familiar figure. A familiar figure looking kinda impatient, one hand on her roller, the other on her hip.

'Oh great,' I thought, 'obviously my fault... as always.' I attempted a big, welcoming smile.

My efforts to be disarming seemed to work. If anything, Amy looked delighted to see me, and our embrace was warm.

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I'd seen Emily while she was still some distance away. It was well before she saw me, then her eyesight had never been the best. I'd been quite clear about where to meet. Only she could screw up something so simple. Give her something complex to do and few were better, but day-to-day shit...? Not so much.

Still, the sight of her weaving her way toward me, blonde ponytail bouncing as she negotiated the crowd, took me back. Took me back almost two years, and to waiting for her at my home airport. Took me back to her confessing her epiphany that she had loved me back in college; that she still did love me. A lot had happened in the time since then.

When she got closer, a look of recognition spread over her freckled, bespectacled face, closely followed by one of trepidation. 'Oh, Emily! Really? After all we've been through together?'

When I saw the defensive smile she'd adopted, I matched it with my own more genuine version, and in seconds we were in each other's arms. Our lips pressed together, our tongues meeting and jousting.

Emily pulled back, a startled look on her face. "What...? We said no... What about Madison?"

"And Alex, don't forget Alex," I added. This only seemed to increase my friend's discombobulation.

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The old electricity was still there. But now accentuated - at least for me - by my eventual admission of love. My heart was pounding, my body responding in a way that was specially reserved for her, for my Amy.

Only she wasn't my Amy, same as I wasn't her Emily. We'd each just mentioned the other's spouse. We'd each been Chief Bridesmaid at the other's wedding. What the fuck was happening? I felt befuddled, disoriented.

Amy appeared to read my thoughts, not an uncommon happening. "It's not real, sis. This is a fantasy, a dream, right?"

"A dream is not reality, but who's to say which is which?" I breathed, half aloud, half to myself.

"You and your classic allusions," grinned Amy.

"But... but this feels real," I stuttered. "Does it feel real to you?"

"Yeah," she replied, "but some dreams are realistic. Maybe it's your dream, Em, and you want me to say that."

"I..." My brain felt confused, and speaking was difficult. It didn't feel like my dream, indeed I couldn't escape the conviction that I, and maybe Amy, were being manipulated by some unseen force.

Amy stepped into the vacuum. "Sis, whatever this is - and I have no fucking idea either - I have a pass. Madison told me she's cool with whatever. And Alex...?"

Things were slowly coming back to me, or maybe new information was being revealed to me. "Yeah... him too. Said we should have fun, go wild, whatever, as you say."

I remembered the conversation, but it felt almost as if that memory had only formed when Amy asked me. As if it had appeared only when needed.

"So..." grinned Amy. "You know what I'm gonna say, right?"

I did indeed. "Er... Don't overthink it? Maybe... go with the flow?"

She nodded, and so we did. At least until the woman behind the United desk called out rather loudly, "Get a room, please!"

So we went to get a room.

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In truth, I was as much in the dark about what was happening as Emily, but I had already determined that I'd not worry too much about it. In the car, some things were beginning to come back to me. Or maybe whoever was dreaming this dream was filling in the blanks.

I decided to see what Emily knew. "So, I got an invitation. The convention. Hosted by that tawdry site you insist on writing for, right?"

"Right," she replied, a look of consternation on her face. "Me too. But... it's for characters to meet other characters. Freya..."

"Who?" I inquired.

"You must know Freya, right? Freya Gersemi. Italian, red hair, sex addict?"

"Sis, I read

your

stories, not anyone else's. It's

your

hobby, not mine. I prefer skiing. And as for characters, aren't we both characters in what you write?"

"Yeah," Emily acknowledged slowly, "but... but we're real people too."

I had to laugh. "And you think all the other authors in your little sex play-pen are so imaginative that they've never inserted themselves into the plot? From what you tell me, it's one big sexual wish-fulfillment-palooza."

My friend still looked uncertain, so I went on. "This is all in your head, or my head, or maybe both. Perhaps it's an 'Inception' thing." I knew Emily well; when all else fails, it's best to use Chris Nolan analogies.

She smiled at my reference, and I continued. "We're in a car, heading for the Grand City Hotel in D.C. And...?"

At my prompt, Emily said, "And we're gonna fuck. And then we're gonna fuck other..." She suddenly looked doubtful. "Other um... Literotica characters. And..."

"And it's gonna be fun," I interjected. "Just like in college. As this isn't real, I might even try some cock for a change. And...?"

Emily finally got my drift. "And we're not gonna worry about my husband, or your wife, or Clara... how is Clara by the way?"

"She's great, in first grade now." I replied. "But..."

"But we're not gonna worry about her, because this isn't real, got it!" Emily said, now looking much more relaxed.

So relaxed in fact that I couldn't resist putting my hand between her jean-clad legs as we made out on the back seats.

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By the time the car pulled off of Massachusetts Avenue and stopped in front of the Grand City Hotel, I was worried that a dark patch might be forming on my crotch. Ames always got me so wet.

She paid the driver and we looked up at the building, fourteen floors of steel and glass anchored by more traditional brick. A transparent canopy led to a large lobby, with soaring walls, and a long, curved reception desk. Placed on two easels were signs welcoming us to the Literotica Convention.

As ever, Amy took control. "Hi, you should have our reservations. Stevens-Byrne and Williams. We're here for the convention."

The customer service agent smiled. "Amy and Emily, right? Welcome. So many pretty women this weekend. But at least you two have normal sized breasts. Never seen so many double Ds in all my life."

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While the woman was processing my card and doing whatever else hotel staff do to keep you waiting around interminably, I took in my surroundings. To our right, a - to my mind - rather nondescript middle aged couple were checking in. To my left was a group of four; three women and a man.

I noticed the redhead first, her hair color reminded me of Madison, though she was younger, and taller. She was also extremely pretty. The guy was around six foot, handsome enough, if you liked Y chromosomes that is.

The other two women were polar opposites. A voluptuous blonde taller than the redhead, and a skinny, boyish brunette around Emily's height. What I noticed most about the pair was their incessant bickering.

Emily seemed captivated by the group. As I surveyed them, she stepped forward and addressed the auburn-haired woman. "Freya? It's Freya Gersemi, right?"

"Prossa, but yeah," she replied. A thought clearly hit her. "And you're Emily Miller, aren't you?"

"Williams," my friend corrected, "but yeah."

"Thank you so much for coming! We should... like... talk... maybe."

"Sure, that would be nice," Emily smiled. "Oh, and this is my best friend, Amy."

Freya had been focused on Emily, but now she looked at me. Her eyes widened. "

The

Amy?"

Em nodded a few times. "Uh-huh."

I felt like an exhibit at the zoo. Deciding I'd had enough of being the silent partner, I extended my hand. "Pleased to meet you, Freya."

"Wow! Emily writes about you being gorgeous, but I think she hasn't quite done you justice."

It takes a lot to make me blush, but Freya had managed it. To cover my embarrassment, I asked, "And...?" My eyes moving to Freya's entourage.

"Oh, right," she said, her gaze still gimlet-like on me. "This is Cyn," the statuesque blonde waved cheerily, "this is Katie," the smaller woman smiled rather more demurely, "and this is my husband, Alex."

Alex was also staring at me, slightly slack-jawed, but I nevertheless shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Turning back to Freya, I added, "Seems you and Emily have more in common than just writing porn."

Freya looked quizzical, and Emily interjected, "She means husbands; mine is called Alex too."

As my friend relayed this, I couldn't escape the feeling that something wasn't quite right. But I dismissed it. The thought of me and Emily in a hotel room was much more pressing.

"Oh, right," said Freya. "Is he...?"

"Here? No, it's just me and Ames," Emily answered.

Katie pulled at Freya's sleeve. "We'll be late for the meet and greet." Looking at me and Emily, she added, "Sorry," in a 'what ya gonna do?' manner.

"OK, Katie," sighed Freya, a little frustrated. "Let me give you my number, Emily. And we are on the seventh floor, 708 and 709."

Emily tapped Freya's number into her phone, then the reception woman chimed in, holding out our entry cards. "You'll be neighbors, your suite is 710."

"Ooo," squeaked Cynthia, "a suite? We'll have to come visit." The innuendo in her final sentence could not have been any more obvious.

With that, Katie pulled Freya and the others away. I insisted we wait for someone to take our luggage. The room cost enough, they could at least carry some bags for the price.

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The suite was amazing. Double aspect, and very spacious. Ames tipped the hotel employee and he closed the door behind him. I was suddenly very aware of being alone with my ex, alone and - frankly - extremely horny.

But it wasn't only arousal flooding my body, it was apprehension. I could feel myself trembling.

"You OK, sis?" asked Amy, a look of concern on her face.

"Yeah, of course. Maybe the aircon is too high." I wrapped my arms around my chest as I spoke, knowing full well that the room temperature was not the real issue.

Then her arms were around me. It didn't feel scary or strange this time. It felt familiar, and safe, and warm, and - most of all - right. There had always been something about us - despite me battling to ignore it for so long - that just fit. Of course, I had that with Alex too, why else marry someone? But a deep connection with one human doesn't erase other connections. It's additive, not subtractive.

Which is all a long way of saying that I told myself, 'Fuck it!' grabbed her face, pushed my lips against hers hard, and slipped my tongue into her mouth. Moving to be cheek-to-cheek, I breathed in Amy's ear, "I want you."

I did. I wanted her so bad.

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Part of me wanted to believe my own assertion that none of this was real, and so nothing mattered. A bigger part of me knew that I was way beyond stopping myself. The combined momentum of years of shared experiences, and years of Emily's suppressed emotions, was just too much. There is such a thing as an irresistible force, and both Em and I were all too movable objects.

There was an urgency to our kisses, as if we were trying to seize an opportunity that we both knew could be fleeting. There was a fervor to how we stripped each other, an excitement not mitigated by familiarity, but only exacerbated by our lengthy and intimate knowledge of each other. It felt as if something, or someone, had magically removed anything that could prevent us from rekindling our previous intimacy.

And when I saw her nude, something welled up in me. Time rolled back and two thirty somethings were again nineteen year olds, on the cusp of shared sexual discovery. The fact that I knew both what we would do en route, and the journey's eventual bitter-sweet destination, was frankly irrelevant. All that mattered was the moment. All that mattered was us.

And my sexually confident, emotionally settled friend became once more a shy, neurotic young woman. One who needed my affirmation, my love, my desire, more than anything else; but was loath to admit to it. Emily's freckles were masked by blushes for fuck's sake. How could any woman hold back?

I moved her to the bed and pushed her down onto her back, her ass just by the edge. I stood between Emily's legs, and as I bent to kiss her, my hand found the silky smoothness of her vulva, and then the yearning moisture of her vagina. I kissed one pair of lips ardently, as my fingers parted another pair, slipping frictionlessly inside.

I couldn't resist pulling back and looking at her. There was almost astonishment in her widened eyes. When she spoke, Emily's voice was hoarse and breathless. "I'd... I'd... forgotten... forgotten us."

I placed my free index finger on her lips, murmuring, "Hush," then got down onto my knees, between my friend's parted thighs. Emily reached and gripped each leg behind her knee, opening herself to me. Neither the symbolism nor the enhanced access was lost on me.

Much as I ached to dive into her, to savor Emily's evocative aroma and taste, another need was rising in me, and I knew I could deny it no longer. Tears formed in my eyes as I blurted out, "I love you, sis. I'll always love you."

My reward was her crooked smile, and the two words, "I know."

"Fucking nerd!" I exclaimed, before slipperily withdrawing my fingers, and burying my eager tongue as deeply in my lover's throbbing depths as I could.

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As I had fallen asleep, cradled in Amy's arms, I had briefly considered that I might wake to a panic attack and even raging guilt. It had been some time now, but you never really leave that shit fully behind you. Instead, my consciousness slowly drifted to the surface, my mind calm, my body feeling radiant, at ease with the world.

And then I heard it, a muffled - but distinct - yelping, as if some lap dog was being periodically tortured. Opening my eyes, I saw Amy, wide awake and propped up on pillows, scrolling on her phone. I took a moment to appreciate - yet again - the precision engineering and artistic elan of her near perfect breasts; if only I knew how to use a chisel.

"Hey, sleepyhead, or is that sleepy-from-head?" Amy's smile was as warm as it was dazzling.

"Hey, sis. What the fuck is that noise?"

Amy theatrically pondered, finger on her dimpled chin. "I think... though maybe some of the details are a little fuzzy... I think it's probably a petite brunette, with more freckles than you, who's being drilled by a fucking machine, while in Velcro restraints."

"Huh?" I said, articulately.

"It's coming from 709," replied Amy, "I'm taking a guess that neither Freya, nor - who was the Marylin Monroe clone again?"

"Cynthia," I replied.

"Yeah, her. I'm guessing neither of them sound like that. Oh... and for reasons I can't really fathom, there's a connecting door - locked of course - with... and you won't believe this... with a peephole in it."

"No!" I said in disbelief.

Amy nodded, a grin on her face. "Take a look yourself; do you need a step stool?"

I glared at her. Never in the history of lesbian relationships had so much fuss been made about two inches height difference.

"I'll manage," I huffed.

Rather embarrassingly, I had to go on tip-toes to look through the lens. What I saw was a bed, with Katie on all fours, a gleaming metal rod pistoning in and out of her pussy. I took a connoisseur's interest in the restraints, kinda similar to the 'baby' ones Alex and I had fooled around with. Nothing like the heavier duty cuffs I had been accustomed to back in the day.

Cynthia was kneeling close to her friend, rubbing Katie's clit in a manner that was intended to be either comforting or stimulating; it was hard to tell which. Cyn was nude and her breasts were certainly something to see. I was used to assuming that you could make five sets of my modest mammaries from the average woman's tissue. I half thought you might be able to make one complete Emily from Cynthia's watermelon-like rack.

I felt a slight breeze by my ear, and realized that Ames had joined me. "Wishing it was me doing that to you, sis?"

I grunted noncommittally. Then moaned with rather more interest as I felt my friend's fingers between my legs.

She whispered in my ear, "Remember that time when Rian combined two drills, with a dildo on each?"

I had been so serenely relaxed when I woke. The scene I was watching, plus both Amy's words and fingers, were turning my body thermostat up to 'high.'

"We could go join them," breathed my digitally gifted friend.

"Mmm..." was my eloquent reply. No one had fingers quite like Amy.

"Who's the tattooed bitch?" she inquired.

I'd prefered Amy focusing on my clit, and replied with a little annoyance, "I haven't the faintest idea."

"I thought you knew these people," teased Amy.

I felt it was time for a Literotica lesson. "Do you have any idea how many stories are posted daily?"

Amy shrugged.

"Up to three hundred, sometimes even four hundred," I continued with some asperity. "I obviously haven't read all of them."

"OK," said Amy. "So, about joining them...?"

"But we are meant to be at the meet and greet, right?" I replied.

"Oh that. It started an hour ago. I thought you needed to sleep."

"What I need is a shower. Maybe join me? The session downstairs is going to continue for a while yet."

"Sure," said Amy.

I took her arm as she moved toward the bathroom. "And Ames..."

"Yeah...?"

"I love you too."

She smiled at me.

"Go on," I urged, "say it."