Re: In praise of Emily

Where to start? Saturday night wasn’t exactly what I expected. It was more and it was less and any idea that i as a bull could orchestrate everything flew out of the window. Trust me, all those accounts that describe a sex fest that goes exactly to plan, well, they’re probably augmented, adjusted in some way. People are wilful and they get excited in different ways.

Ben and I arrived on time and with enough to spare to hear about James’s preparation. But first off, I was blown away by how the girls looked. Beautiful women, who dress to effect blow a man’s mind. They are astounding. Emily was wearing a designer, close fitting black cocktail dress that showed her lovely contours, with stockings and stiletto heels. Blood pressure was at risk looking at the lady-she is so fine. Margaret was in the rock chick leather jeans and boots with a silk blouse and a leather choker about her throat. She wore a Cartier watch just like Em’s on her wrist, only it was the steel rather than the steel and gold version. I stared at it and Emily took my arm. ‘I bought it…I like Margaret, and as I see it, you own her too. She will go with Ben, but its at your direction and mine. OK?’ It was the first time that Emily had insisted on something with me. It was a reminder that she saw us as a couple, even if she submitted to me on nearly everything. OK, that was OK. Hell, it was good. Mags was her ladies maid. I kissed Margaret slowly on the cheek and whispered, ‘you’re so fucking hot!’ Ben was introduced to her and he kissed her too, his one hand instantly brushing her leather covered bottom.

During all these greetings James just stood back and stared. What must we have looked like? Everyone dressed cool and Cinders left to tidy up again.
Emily said,
‘James has been a VERY good boy, helping us get ready. I’m going to bring him back into the fold tomorrow. He has been such a sweetie, haven’t you James?’
He blushed.
‘Tell us then, what’s he been up to?’ Ben’s question was a plant, I’d suggested it to add that touch of humble pie for my man.

Emily recounted the evening. The massage was unexpected, delightful and ably done. Margaret had watched as James tended first to his mistress and noted how good it made her feel. ‘You feel so relaxed, so easy…it is very, very sexy’ Emily mewed. Then he had offered the modified massage to Mags, promising that he would confine things in a way that she required. Margaret was about to demure but Emily insisted. There was a hierarchy here, with I and she at the top, then Mags and James at the bottom. It was important that Mags accept this kind service. James would submit to his wife and submit to his mother. This was female authority. So Mags took the massage, and Em said you could see her relaxing by the second. It was very good. She had never, ever had a massage before. Margaret showed off her manicured nails and said that her son was a man of hidden talents. He washed, ironed and scurried about, all evening for them both. She had watched him clip the stockings on to Emily’s suspender belt and it had looked so tender, so reverential.

We arrived at the bar to find it fuller than expected. Someone was having a birthday bash. Joe had got in a three piece jazz ensemble and they were making the place groove. There was though more guys than ladies, just as I had hoped. Em was in her element and freely started to cast those sexy, I wonder what you think, what you want looks. They had a devastating effect. Mags too felt the atmosphere and when Ben took her in his arms, pressing her shapely body against his big frame, she looked up, and he took his first fill on kiss. There, sweet, so hot, she was responding to him, letting his tongue explore her mouth, feeling the power of his arms around her. Emily giggled. ‘She will eat him alive when they fuck’ she insisted, ‘that girl is so hungry, I tell you.’

We were getting the attention of the other guys, the envious attention. I loved that and told Emily to sit on Ben’s lap and snog with him whilst i took Mags onto mine. Before Em did so she whispered, ‘I’ll fuck with whoever you want’. I saw her settle on my mate’s lap, saw her take out the mobile phone and snap an image, something to remind James what a wild and wicked wife he had. Mags wiggled on my lap. There was a moment’s hesitation, a moment of wondering whether she should seem more demure. But she has no need to worry. She has the figure of a thirty year old and looks so good.

‘Every guy in this bar wants you Mags, you look so desirable. Enjoy it, relax, you’re meant to have men love you, perhaps even worship you.’
We started to snog and it was very sweet. When my hand rested on her thigh, she slid it up to the crotch of her jeans and pressed herself against me, rubbing herself urgently against the ball of my hand. I could hear the little whimpers in her voice and felt as raunchy as hell. Ben had his hand up inside Emily’s dress and the half light of our alcove, he was feeling her wet sex.

We danced some, drank a lot more. A group of guys attached to the birthday party broke off and asked whether our girls wanted to play a game of darts. Emily looked at me and I nodded. They would wreck the guys. So many hopes, so many rocks on which they would be dashed. Both our girls were playing the men expertly. Flirting is a deep seated instinct. Enough I thought, and withdrew the ladies after two games. They had made and wrecked the guys night in a wiggle of the bum and a passing glint of the eye.

Very late we returned home by taxi and as expected James was sleeping in the bunk room. Giggling, swearing, laughing some, we started to undress the ladies in the master bedroom. Mags kept staring into Ben’s eyes as though they were an abyss, a destiny into which she would fall. He touched her eagerly, fingers inside and thumb brushing her clitoris. He directed her hand to his fly and she started to get his member out. It was big and it was stiff. Awkward to release from his pants. ‘Oh God Ben…’ she murmured. Emily and I were more practised and enjoying ourselves. We did our stand up routine, I entering her roughly for some preamble fun as we stood there.

‘Bareback babe’ Ben insisted as Mags held his cock.

I shook my head towards him. No fucking way. Ben had been screwing around a bit. They weren’t a regular and exclusive couple. Ben wasn’t a practising bull as such, but he must know the etiquette. Mags deserved protection, a sheath until he had checked out, until he and she had started a relationship.

Ben wasn’t listening to me. He was rubbing his glans against her pubes.

‘Sheath man’ I whispered.

No response. My great mate was on automatic pilot. His brains were inside his cock.

‘Fucking well stop…right now!’

Silence. A stunned silence as Ben glares across at me. I causing a scene, halting the vibe of the evening.

Emily whispers icily.
‘You will use a sheath Ben…Mags is my friend.’

It could have gone either way. But suddenly affronted Ben chose the door and without a word. I saw him brush past us and slam the door as he left. It was fucking devastating. I thought that i knew the man, and right then I was furious. He had just wantonly, selfishly, humiliated a beautiful woman who had been so sexy with him all evening. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was furious.