Uninhibited (Unlikely Lovers) (12 page)

“What’s that?”

“You talk too much.”

Emily’s problem was
thinking
too much. Most people just assumed she was quiet. She knew better. Leaning over, she rubbed his gushing cock all over her face before licking him clean.

“And you don’t talk
enough,” he gasped. “Say what you said a while ago, and I’m pretty sure I’ll come in your face.”

Wanting more time to savor him, she lied. “I don’t remember.
”

“You said, a
nd I quote: ‘I’m gonna suck your big fucking dick, and then I want you to fuck all my holes and cover me with cum.’”

“I said that?”

“Yes, you did,” he said. “Say it again.”

“Nah, it’ll lose its effect if I say it too
often.”

And, with that,
she went down on him again, sucking him until his continuous groans made intelligible speech impossible. Letting go of his dick, she went after his balls, sucking them while his cock poured out so much syrup it looked like a burning candle with wax running down the side.

More than enough
lubricant to finger his ass…

Stephen probably would
’ve loved it, but Emily wasn’t so sure about Alan. Then again, he could always tell her to stop…

Moistening h
er middle finger, she slid it into his ass—didn’t tease him first or give him any warning whatsoever, just reached right in, found his prostate, and began massaging it with her fingertip.

M
oments later, with a yell that made her glad she didn’t live in an apartment building, he went off like a geyser, shooting straight up into the air. His cum rained down on the side of her face, nearly hitting her in the eye as she observed its descent.

“You’re never gonna let me fuck you, are you?” he gasped. “I’m gonna have to lay here while you get me off every other way you can think of
.”

She
popped a testicle out of her mouth. “And you’re complaining?”

“
Yes,” he hissed. “I want to plow into you and fuck you so hard—”

“Which is what I’ve been afraid of all along,”
she said. “You’ll be too energetic, and I won’t like it.”

“You know you will
. Spread your legs and let me fuck you, baby. Let me drive my prick into you and make you scream because it feels so fuckin’ good.”

“There’s that filthy mouth again
,” she said, shaking her head. “Do I have to tie you up and spank you to get you to behave?”

He actually looked afraid.
“No, don’t tie me up,” he begged. “I’ll be good. Don’t tie me up and leave me.”

She rolled her eyes.
“Alan, this is
my
house. I’m not leaving my own house.”

“Oh,
yeah, right... I forgot.”

“And besides,
nobody can do that. You’ve already come three—no,
four
—times since you got here. If I were you, I’d be more afraid I’ll tie you up and keep you prisoner—sucking your cock whenever I please and making you come all over the place.”

His
response to that was yet another ejaculation. Not quite as spectacular as the previous version, perhaps, and though her finger on his prostate might’ve accounted for it, she preferred to believe her words were responsible.

Just as
he
was responsible for her current state of arousal. He’d barely even touched her, and not only was her pussy wet and aching, her whole body was on fire. Obviously a man like Alan—one she could do
anything
with—was what she’d always needed. That lack of freedom had made sex with other men downright boring. No wonder her previous relationships had all failed.

This one, however,
had a chance to succeed. Sure, Alan was a little strange, but then, apparently, so was she.

And she certainly wasn’t bored.

C
hapter 9

Emily obviously didn’t know who she was dealing with. He’d only come four times? Funny, he’d thought it was more than that.

That last one made five.

Had she actually meant what she’d said about keeping him prisoner? The last time, he’d truly been afraid he wouldn’t get loose, and the more he thought about that Stephen King scenario, the more terrified he’d become. For him, bondage would
never
be a turn-on.

He’d sworn off sex
after that—for about a week. The next thing he knew, he was fucking someone else. The year-long abstinence had been the result of the last woman he’d fucked. Not only was she married, she was
happily
married—a sweet, compassionate woman who’d given him what amounted to a pity fuck.

Pity.
He didn’t want pity. He wanted a woman he could love
and
fuck and not feel guilty about it.

And he’d certainly
felt guilty. Then again, if it weren’t for that particular interlude, he wouldn’t have been able to talk Travis out of having an affair with Miranda. Not that he’d needed to, because Miranda wasn’t married, but he’d done his best.

Rolling
onto his side, he curled up in a ball, trying not to touch her, like she’d asked.

Damn, this is hard.
Especially when she patted him on the butt when she got up and went into the bathroom, presumably to wash her hands. He still couldn’t believe she’d fingered his ass. Alan had diddled plenty of them, but no one had ever messed with his before.

And I thought I’d done it all.

Unfortunately, thinking about it only made his dick hard—again. He’d have thought that after a yearlong layoff, getting back in the groove might take a while.

Ha, ha
. His dick worked, all right—perhaps a little too well. No longer than it’d taken her to get him off four—or five—times, Emily probably had him pegged as a premature ejaculator.

Great.

When she came back to bed, he tried not to look at her, but knowing she was probably still naked didn’t help his dick any. Still hard, still oozing pre-cum.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He faked a yawn. “Kinda sleepy though.”

Which was a l
ie. He wanted to fuck her so bad he couldn’t think straight. All of his relaxation techniques and mantras for
not
thinking about sex failed him. He couldn’t even remember what they were.

Emily
didn’t snuggle up to him, just patted him on the ass again. “Get some sleep. I’ll take you home tomorrow—if that’s okay with you.”

Guess she really
doesn’t
want me to fuck her.

“
Tomorrow is fine.”

At least she hadn’t kicked him out—yet. Maybe he should save her the trouble and leave now. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to walk home.

I have
so
blown this.

He hadn’t had time to prepare. Todd hadn’t told him where they were going
—just said he needed to stop by his sister’s place on the way home. If Emily had called him, he could’ve meditated, could’ve coached himself—hell, he could’ve called Travis for support. But no, he’d walked right into her living room and stripped to his skin.

She’d liked some of it. He was pretty sure
of that. She was right about one thing, though. Once he started fucking, he’d be too—what was it she’d said? Energetic?—for her, and she wouldn’t like it.

She wasn’t even going to let him try.

He lay there, trying to control his breathing so she’d think he’d fallen asleep. Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes, soaking the pillowcase before he even realized he was crying.

I am
not
crying.
And even if he was, it was only because his dick hurt and his nuts ached. Not because he’d screwed up again.

And he
had
screwed up. Royally.

* * * *

Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any real excitement with a man. Sure, she’d had fun at The Mouse’s Tail, but Stephen’s excitement hadn’t had anything to do with her. Dancing with Reece wasn’t too bad.

Not great,
either.

T
he first time she’d had sex with Chad should’ve served as a warning. They’d met at a party, and after a bit of small talk, he said, “Hey, you wanna fuck?” and she’d replied, “Sure, why not?” Suffice it to say, the ensuing encounter proceeded with a comparable level of enthusiasm.

Prior to the Chad years—as Emily liked to think of them—there was Roger. He was nice enough, but his sexual style
leaned toward the perfunctory end of the performance spectrum. Before that, Eugene was…well,
Eugene—
and how good could a Eugene be? There’d been one or two others whose names she couldn’t recall, and if there’d been any fireworks during their liaisons, she’d slept through them. Her ex-husband Dane wasn’t terribly exciting, and sex with him had occurred so seldom, she’d already forgotten most of it.

Thus far,
Alan was definitely the most interesting, and she hadn’t technically had sex with him yet. Unfortunately, her efforts to take the edge off him appeared to have done the job a little too well.

Just my luck.

She had only herself to blame for not simply climbing on for a free dick ride. Alan had certainly been willing—until she’d worn him out. Truth be told, she wasn’t afraid he’d fuck her too hard. Nor was she afraid too much togetherness would drive her nuts. No, her biggest fear was that sex with Alan wouldn’t be as fabulous as she hoped it would be.

And
she
wanted
it to be fabulous. She was tired of the constant search and wanted to fall in love and get on with life—with the sexual partner of her dreams. Alan had that potential. He was cute, amusing, and he loved sex. Then again, he
was
rather needy, and he’d conked out on her.

Yeah, a
fter coming five times.

Perhaps she’d done
the impossible and actually given him as much as he wanted. He might not be able to fuck again for days—or worse, he might never want sex again. She’d warned him that she could probably cure his sexual addiction. What if she’d actually done it?

Alan
sighed in his sleep, interrupting her thoughts until his breathing settled back into a deep, regular rhythm.

Oh, yeah. S
he’d done it all right. He was cured.

Whoopee.

Sleep was impossible. Without the benefit of fi
ve orgasms to knock her out, Emily’s brain wouldn’t shut up, and went right on hashing and rehashing every detail. Should she have done this
differently or changed the way she’d said that? What would he say when he woke up? What would he do? He didn’t have a car, but he didn’t live very far away. Since she hadn’t tied him up or bolted the door and hidden the key, he was perfectly capable of putting on his clothes and walking home. What if, having finally had enough, he simply decided to leave? He might even enjoy the novelty of being the one to skedaddle first.

Finally, in a desperate attempt to
turn off her thoughts—rather than shoving a pencil in her ear—she spooned up against his back and draped an arm over his hip. He was warm, solid, and he grounded her thoughts in a way she didn’t expect.

U
nbelievably, she slept.

She a
woke to find Alan nestled up behind her, scattering kisses over her neck and shoulders while gliding his hot, wet cock between her legs.

“Mmm…” Arching her back, she wigg
led her butt against his groin.

Alan responded by
altering the angle enough that his cockhead teased her clit. “Beats waking up to an alarm, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Rocking her hips, she tightened her inner thighs, squeezing his dick against her pussy. “What time is it?”

“Dunno,” he replied. “Pretty early, I think. Sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Evidently
, he hadn’t been cured.

Whoo hoo!

“Just had to get my dick between your legs and fuck for a while.” Shifting his hands for a better grip, he picked up the pace. “God, that feels good. Wet…slick…hot.”

Emily wasn’t sure which one of them was providing most of the lubrication—him, she suspected
, although her aching pussy was undoubtedly contributing. “And here I thought you’d finally gotten enough.”

He nuzzled her neck
. “No way. I don’t think I could
ever
get enough of you. I just needed some time to think of more ways to fuck you without actually
fucking
you.”

“And?”

“This is one of them.”

“
I see. And why are these alternative methods so important?”