Abigail and Emily Ch. 02

"You're lucky my phone's inside, and that I'm too lazy to get it. I'd call Rick right now and tell him to come satisfy me."

I just laughed to keep from grimacing. If she did do that, what was I supposed to do? My first instinct was to run. I'd go home and wonder about what I'd missed out on, again. But what did she want me to do? Stay? Watch? Join in?

"You know," said Emily, "You could touch yourself. If you wanted."

I snatched my wandering hands away from my body. "I don't know what you mean!" Was she making fun of me?

"I wouldn't mind," she said.

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing, I just thought... in case you were horny... it would be all right with me."

"Ex-cuse me? Emily, I can't believe you! As if I would—"

"I'm sorry, forget I said anything."

My jaw clenched, I turned away from her, over onto my front again.

Why had she said that? Now the mood was ruined. At least she'd stopped talking for now. Maybe I could finally calm down without her constantly saying suggestive things to fluster me.

I laid still, listening to the silence, waiting for my heartbeat to slow. But the thick, heavy air itself was suggestive. I prayed for a breeze, but when one finally came, it felt like a caress. My ass and thighs grew warm from the sun. My pussy was hot, too. God, it was practically throbbing. I hated that Emily was right. I desperately needed to touch myself.

I had accidentally lain with one arm hidden under myself. My fingers were actually very close to my pussy. Could I secretly find some relief?

I waited for Emily to offer to do my back again. Maybe this time I wouldn't chicken out. Maybe I would allow her to touch me everywhere. I squirmed, anticipating, but the silence stretched. Why didn't she say something? Was she waiting for me to ask? I couldn't! I licked my dry lips and tried to calm my thudding heart.

"Will you...?" My voice faltered. I started again. "Emily? Can you... uh... will you put more... sunscreen? On me, I mean?"

Smooth. She didn't respond. I turned my head to look back at her.

She was looking my direction with her lips parted, her eyes still hidden behind dark glasses. "Emily?" I said. Her naked chest was steadily rising and falling.

Unbelievable. She'd fallen asleep again!

I sat up. If she was going to sleep, then at least I could finally get some relief. But not here.

I stepped down off the deck and crossed towards the house on bare feet. I should have done this earlier. I'd get myself off in the bathroom. Or maybe I'd take a look around, to see if I could find that vibrator she was talking about. It would be so wrong to use her toy on myself, to press the soft silicone that she'd left sticky into my own wetness... to leave it for her to find later...

But the sliding glass door was locked shut. I rattled the handle. What the hell? Why on earth would Emily have locked it? Unless it had locked accidentally, in which case we were both stuck out here. But there must be a key somewhere!

I walked back to the pool and stood over Emily. There were no keys on the little table, nor anywhere that I could see on the ground. My bathing suit and the dress I'd arrived in remained hidden as well. Wherever her hiding place was, it was a good one.

It began to sink in just how trapped I was. Without any clothes, I couldn't leave. I couldn't hide in the house. Until Emily woke up, I was completely at her mercy.

Emily's bikini was still here, but the idea of me squeezing into it was absurd. The thing was minuscule. Leaving it for me must have been her idea of a joke. On my body, it would be more obscene than if I were nude. I'd be arrested if I tried to drive home in that.

What kind of prank was this? I felt sick. "Emily, wake up," I said once, loud but halfhearted, already knowing it was useless. This was Emily's trademark sleep of the dead.

I lay back down as I had been before, face down with one hand underneath my body. I wanted to scream, but my arousal just wouldn't go away. I pressed my fingers between my lips. Without moving my body at all, I inched my hand back and forth, caressing myself with agonizing slowness. I turned my head so I could keep an eye on Emily. I wanted to appear innocent if she showed any signs of waking.

With those sunglasses hiding her eyes, it was easy to imagine she was watching me. Would she like what she saw? Was that why she'd spent all afternoon getting me naked and teasing me? Did she want me like I wanted her? God, why wouldn't she just say it, then?

All day she'd been nude in front of me and I'd refused to let myself really look. My gaze followed the curve of her throat down her chest, to her soft breasts and her perky little nipples, standing firm in the air. What would they feel like under my tongue? I wanted to wrap my thighs around her narrow hips. I wanted to trail my fingers through her trimmed little patch of pubic hair to her velvety slit. I could make her feel so good if she would just let me.

I'd seen her body before, in glimpses here and there. We'd been friends for a long time. Whenever we had changed in front of one another, I had to be careful not to stare, to savor instead whatever little glimpses I caught from the sides of my eyes. This was the first time I'd seen everything at once, and could stare to my heart's content.

She'd sent me a nude selfie once, to get my "approval" before sending it to Rick. I'd sent a supporting but carefully neutral response: she looked great, Rick would just love it, thumbs up emoji. Had she really done it because she knew how it would fluster me? But of course I'd saved that photo.

I'd dared myself to take my own nude photo and send it back. The plan fell apart—I wasn't dating anyone, so I had no pretext—even if I could have brought myself to really send it to her. But the larger problem was, no matter what I did, every photo I took was too sexual, too wanton. While Emily's photo had been perfectly coquettish—flirty but demure—mine all came out revealing too much of my slutty side. I couldn't let anyone see them, especially not Emily.

But I kept all the photos I'd taken that night. I still looked at them sometimes. What would have happened if I'd sent them? In my imagination, Emily was suitably appalled, but still fascinated to see me like this. "I can't believe how nasty you look," she'd say, and ask to see another one. "Do one where you're bending over more. Squeeze your tits. Arch your back."

Having the imaginary Emily in my head, while the real Emily was right here, naked, was too much. My pussy was gushing. Fluid streamed over my fingers. Despite trying to keep still, I was hunching my hips towards my hand.

Fuck it. I may as well do this right. I rolled onto my side so I was facing Emily. I spread my knees to give my hand more room to move.

The idea that she really was watching spurred me on. I imagined that she had seen all my photos and now she wanted to see the real thing. What would she want? Did she want to watch me fuck her husband? I pretended Rick was here, turning me over, positioning my body with his big hands. I got on my knees, my ass in the air, legs spread wide, my head and shoulders pressed to the chair. Rick would be behind me, his hands holding my hips as he thrust into me. I kept working my clit, looking to Emily for approval. She, of course, hadn't changed, but I imagined that she was smiling, giving encouragement to me and to the imaginary Rick. We were both performing for her pleasure.

I twisted my other arm around behind myself and found my pussy with that hand, plunging two fingers deep inside. I couldn't reach as deep as I imagined Rick's cock would, but it would do. I continued rubbing my clit. The wet sounds were loud in the still air.

Oh, fuck that was good. If Emily woke up now there was no hiding what I was doing. Pretending her impassive face was watching me was driving me crazy. My fingers worked my clit hard. My other hand made squelching sounds as it pushed into my pussy from behind. When I came, I kept just enough composure to keep from crying out. I pressed my face into the chair cushion and whimpered against my bit lip. The leg of the chair tapped against the deck to the same rhythm as my spasming hips.

Shuddering, I sucked the juices from my dripping fingers. My body was raw, alive. God, I was insatiable. I wanted to come again already. And Emily wanted to see me again, too.

I sat upright on my chair and turned towards her. My feet were flat on the ground. I weighed my tits in my hands. I'd been dying to get my nipples in my mouth. They tasted like sunscreen but I didn't care. I was too eager, suckled too hard at first, and my right nipple emerged bruised and throbbing. I made a muffled grunt, feeling like a glutton as I switched to my left breast, lifting it higher to squeeze as much as I could fit into my mouth. My other hand traced over my too-sensitive pussy lips.

I leaned back and lifted my heels onto the side of the chair. I was totally spread open, stroking a little faster now. I was taking such a risk. I had to release my breast from my mouth so that I could still see Emily from this pose. I could practically feel her gaze on me, looking right at my pussy as my fingers went in and out. You like that? I thought.

If I had my toys here I could really give her a show. I'd stick my suction cup dildo on the corner of the little glass table and fuck myself right next to her face, squatting up and down.

Or I'd rub my pussy right on her face. That ought to wake her up. It would serve her right, too—hiding my clothes, locking me out of the house—she deserved to wake up with my wet pussy grinding on her lips and chin. I'd ignore her when she tried to speak or push me off. When I finally had my fill, I'd lick her face clean.

A horrific thought seized me. Emily wasn't sleeping at all, was she? She was pretending. This whole day she had been trying to embarrass me. This was just her latest ploy. Any minute now she would sit up and say, "I knew it, Abigail. I always knew you were a pervert. You were supposed to be my friend. But all these years, you've been a secret lesbian slut, lusting after me."

I shuddered at the thought, but I couldn't stop touching my body. The flesh bulged out between my spread fingers as I squeezed my tit hard. Part of me willed her to wake up and say those words. Even with the shame, and the rejection, at least I could finally stop pretending. I could stop being Abigail the prude, and start being Abigail the slut. I'd wear skimpy tops and miniskirts every day, stripper heels... I'd never wear panties. I'd go out to sleazy bars and do anything anyone there asked of me.

"No," I moaned. "I can't... I have to stop, I... fuck." I was certain now that I was right, that Emily was faking. Helpless, I went on ravishing my body in full view of her. My fingers emerged glistening from my pussy and I smeared the moisture all around my throbbing clit. I rolled one firm nipple between my fingers. I was too far gone. She'd already seen me at my most perverted. I had nothing to lose.

"You can stop pretending now. I know you're awake, Emily. You must really like watching me. It's OK, though. I like it." She wanted to see what I did when I thought she was sleeping? Well, I'd give her more than she bargained for.

"I bet you were awake earlier, too, weren't you? When I was on top of you. You liked it, didn't you? I bet you wanted to turn over and fuck me back. But you liked me using your body like that. Taking what I wanted." Was I really saying these things?

I wished I could rub myself against her again. I would remember that stolen pleasure for the rest of my life.

"Do you know what always makes me come, every time?" My finger circled my anus, stroking, teasing. "Ooh, I shouldn't... I really shouldn't do this in front of you, but... fuck, I need it. Do you know how much I love touching myself here? My asshole? Isn't that naughty? A cock feels even better, though. Have you ever done that? I bet you have, you little slut. I like to think about it. Think about you getting fucked in the ass. Think about you doing it to me. Oh, god," I moaned as my circling finger began to sink into my eagerly accepting little asshole.

"You have no idea that I'm a slut, too. That's right, Emily, I'm a slut. I said it." My asshole had completely swallowed my finger now, all the way to the last knuckle. I began to slowly inch it back and forth, savoring the feeling of my tight little sphincter grasping at it.

"I wish I had my butt plug here. I'd show you how I take it all. My finger feels so fucking good right now, but, fuck... it feels so much better to be totally full."

Some days I put my butt plug in and kept it there all day. I loved to feel it nestled there while I did ordinary things. I thrilled at my delicious secret while talking to coworkers and friends. I suffered through work and meetings in an erotic fog, the words my coworkers said to me just background noise. I'd squirm in my desk chair, feeling it fill every part of me.

I went on, saying whatever came into my head, trying to goad her into a response. "I know all about pretending. What do you want? You want me? You want me to tell you how much I want you? How much I love seeing your body? That you're my biggest fantasy? I've thought about fucking you so many times."

I watched her parted lips carefully. Was she breathing any faster? Was her face flushed? What about her nipples, were they hard? Surely such things would give her away. If only she would part her legs, maybe I could see if I was making her pussy moist. Her beautiful little mound was as appetizing as a ripe, fuzzy peach. And it was so temptingly close. It was all I could do not to reach over and spread her puffy lips to see the delicious pink within. If I did, would I see a trickle of moisture roll down her ready opening?

"God, looking at your pussy right now, I just want to devour it. You can keep pretending you're asleep, if you want to, and just... just part your legs a little bit, and I'll eat you out. I'll make you feel so good, and we don't have to say a word. We can pretend it never happened. Just give me a sign. Just spread your legs a little bit. Please, Emily. Please. Please."

My last "please" ended in a squeal, as my anus sucked at my pushing finger. My other hand clenched my aching pussy, the fingers disappearing deep between the inflamed lips. I arched my body backwards, every muscle stiff, pummeled with pleasure.

And Emily remained totally still.

Oh, god, what a relief!

She wasn't awake. She wasn't watching me. No way would anyone pretend to sleep through that.

But a thought had come into my head along the way, and I wouldn't be able to stop myself.

I can't! I can't do it!

But I had to. It was a compulsion. I slid off the chair and crawled to her side on my knees.

I won't touch her, I told myself. That had been my mistake last time. I just want to know what she smells like.

I crept closer, until my face was hovering just over her lap. I could see every detail. Her little bush was trimmed so short that it hid nothing at all. She'd also shaved some of it on both sides, to reveal even more of her mound and her outer lips. Was she more swollen than usual, or always this puffy? The curled edges of her inner lips, delicate and pink, peeked from within.

I watched her face carefully. This was so much riskier because of her sunglasses. She could be looking right at me and I wouldn't know. But I was certain now that she really was sleeping.

Without taking my eyes off her face, I nestled the tip of my nose very close to her cleft, where it dipped between her legs. Her dainty curls of pubic fuzz tickled my face, soft as velvet. I took one deep, shuddering breath.

Oh, god!

It was earthy, deep, and rich. I closed my eyes and inhaled again. Buttery sandalwood. Warm, dark honey. The musky heart of a fresh fig. My mouth sagged open in absolute, primal bliss.

I reached my hand once more between my legs. My clit was a throbbing needle, singing out to be touched. I had to complete my pleasure. It was too much for my poor senses. With each breath I had to choke back a groan. What I was doing was desperately depraved. I was filthy. I was an animal.

But I had come this far. I had to know how she tasted. I had to! I stuck my tongue out and touched it to her cleft, where her lips formed a sort of pout. The same rich flavors were there on her skin, but sharper, stronger. I started to press my tongue inward, deeper. The touch of moisture on my tongue was like completing a circuit, sending a jolt of electricity down a wire that shocked me into a sudden orgasm.

I jerked away from Emily as I cried out, grunts that I couldn't contain.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Emily... Emily! I love you! I love you! I—" I clapped my hands over my mouth.

Where the fuck did that come from?

Still in the grip of my orgasm, my legs gave out, quivering like jelly. I collapsed backwards to the ground.

I gasped and shuddered. I was sobbing. Brushing damp strands of hair away from my brow, I looked up at Emily, afraid my loud cries had finally woken her.

But there was still no change. She hadn't moved an inch, and her chest rose and fell with the same steady breath. She really was asleep.

I crumpled. I'd let my libido control me again. I felt foolish and drained, as limp and wrung out as a dish towel. I pulled my exhausted body back onto my chair, curling myself into a ball. I didn't feel sexy anymore. I just felt empty.

And I was still under Emily's control. How long was she going to sleep for? I couldn't dress myself or leave. I hugged my knees. I just had to wait.

I must have fallen asleep. The sun was lower in the sky, and the heat of the day was gone. My sun dress and my swimsuit were laying together, neatly folded, on the cushion of Emily's chair. Emily herself wasn't there.

I didn't know what to think. All those crazy things I said... She was probably in the house right now, but I couldn't bear to see her. I couldn't look her in the eye. It was time to go.

My swimsuit was damp and clammy, so I left it off. Shivering, I pulled my dress over my head. I hadn't brought a bra or panties with me. I hoped Emily wouldn't see me leaving.

My head was hot, throbbing, swarming with noisy thoughts. I walked out of the side gate and out to my car.