Every word true. As it happened, and, I would like to think, why it happened too.
Emily was tall, 25, and married. But then, so was I. I would later discover that my wife was making herself available to anyone interested from the early days of our marriage, but then, we married at 18. What does anyone know of life at that age?
Emily was elegant, beautiful, and would not have looked out of place on the catwalk or on the pages of Vogue. She was married to a short, arrogant man who treated her as nothing more than a trophy wife and a drudge.
I am not at all sure why Karen and I struck up a friendship, but we did and we would talk about her husband a lot. Never, at any moment, did she intimate she wanted more than friendship, neither by gesture, expression or words.
One hot summer afternoon, Emily and I were sitting in her garden, drinking lemonade and just talking. She was in a diaphonous white summer dress and looked, I have to say, breathtaking. I could see the absence of bra, although her breasts were not really visible. I only knew by movement and the erection of her nipples.
There was a little visible panty line and it made me wonder if it was a thong, or just a very brief pair.
So we sat and talked about her husband. Suddenly, and unusually, she said 'Our sex life is a travesty. He rolls into bed at whatever hour suits him. He spreads my legs, climbs on top and bangs away for a few minutes until he cums. He has no thought for foreplay, arousing me, or satisfying my urges.' As soon as she said it, the moment passed. How does one reply to that? I murmered some pathetic sympathetic drivel about how she deserved more, and how distressing it must be for her.
Then, she put down her lemonade glass and rose from her garden chair. She walked the couple of paces across to me and knelt on the grass. For a wild moment, I thought that she was going to open my trousers and jack me off. Instead, she said 'Please. I don't care what, but would you ....er....DO something for me?'
With that she sat down in a fluster of embarrassment. I got up and walked to her this time, mimicking her movements by kneeling at her feet. I didn't say a word. I looked up into her eyes as my hands found her knees.
My right hand slipped lower to her calves and I felt a gentle resistance to the pressure but it soon yielded as she allowed me to spread her legs and flip that sheer little dress up. Well, that answered one question. It wasn't a thong. It was a small white pair of hi-cut panties. But they were visibly wet. I kissed up her things almost but not quite kissing her pussy through the thin material. I teased her in that way for a long time. I slipped the dress off her shoulders and with tantalising slowness exposed first her left breast, then her right, and spent an age kissing the nipples up into what must have been almost a painful hardness. Then, I returned a hand to that soft, moist spot between her legs. Again, I teased over her panties, pressing a little on her clit, a little over her hole, but not hard enough. Her breathing accelerated and soft moans came from her.
Then, I let my finger worm under the material and finally felt how wet she was. My middle finger slipped inside her as my thumb found her clit and I began to masturbate her, sensing when she was getting close to orgasm and then slowing down or even stopping to edge her more.
Finally, with my finger deep inside her, I hooked it forward and felt that subtle change in the pussy wall that indicates her g-spot. I flicked her clit firmly which, by her reaction was exactly the way she likes it while finger fucking her g spot hard. So hard, in fact, that I had to let my index finger join in the fun!
Emily leaned her head right back as I kissed and sucked her left nipple deeply into my mouth. I heard her orgasmic sighs as if they had come from her very soul.
I felt a rush of liquid into my hand. Emily bucked her hips and ground herself deeper onto my fingers as her orgasm hit its peak and then subsided.
After, I knelt there, in that same position, my fingers deep inside her and my mouth planting small kisses on her breast until I just knew the time was right to withdraw.
I returned to my chair, naturally sporting a hard on of such intensity, it actually hurt! Emily came across to me and knelt at my feet. She reached for my zipper, but I stopped her. This wasn't about me. It was about her. She needed what I had given her, and although I would have loved her to return the favour it felt wrong.
Instead, I asked her if I could take her panties back home with me. She said I could, but only if I took them off her myself....without using my hands!. (That led to her having another orgasm.)
Of course, when I got home, I put Emily's panties to good use...several times...until her scent had faded.
So, a few weeks later, the inevitable happened. A day in Emily's company that resulted in two people giving each other pleasure in every imaginable way.