When Emily's Away

It’s not all bad news though. I know there will be cybersex and erotic texting and phone calls. She may even strike lucky with a conference delegate or a hotel maid…either way, I’ll get to hear about it in great detail….there may even be a video (sometimes live) from a strategically placed phone. But there’s no denying, those first three days or so, I am down in the dumps and feeling lonely. 

Dani knows, and does her best to cheer me up. After our threesome, she has become far less inhibited around us. Sometimes, like us, she may even just paddle around the place in her undies. The farmhouse got incredibly hot and just before we moved, all three of us were naked once. 

She never openly makes a move, but by the briefest of touches, she lets me know that if I need company….

I masturbate more when Emily isn’t here. Several times a day….and only ever in the bedroom at night. 

Hmmm…let’s see if I can’t break it down. I know, let’s start in the morning. I wake up, warm and horny, and the first thing I realise is Emily’s absence. The bed, which I won’t allow to be changed while Em is away smells of her,which adds to my arousal. My early morning masturbation is usually to hump her pillow which will leave a coating of me on it for when she comes home. (More on how that affects her later) 

Shower, dress as per Miss Brain’s instruction, then out into the world. Following one of Dani’s to-die-for breakfasts (somehow, she cooks these amazing meals, yet we aren’t all the size of hippos.) and some polite conversation and I’m ready to start my day. Right…..I usually give Dani’s bum one lustful stare as she walks away from me and then to business. A quick look at the data from the coffee shops, then onto emails. I’ve been pestered by a chain that wants to buy out my little empire, but I’m not interested…yet. Emails from the coffee shops are way more interesting….and today, there are about 50 of them! All ideas from the staff. They really are firing on all cylinders. I respond to each one….but…..between my legs, something is making its presence felt. I’m wet. Again.

Miss Brain flashes a typical Emily response “Fuck me…you are a total whore, aren’t you?” When Em’s away it’s like Miss Brain plays games with me. She waits until I notice something…like how wet I am…or my boobs feel tight….sometimes, it’s even just that I need a piss. Then she will tag on an “Emilyism”. It may be dark or dirty, or so unspeakably romantic that it makes me catch my breath, but it all leads to the same end…..another cum. 

I never worry if I’m becoming a sexaholic. That ship sailed long ago. I am highly, highly sexed. I can be a gentle romantic lover, or the whore of your dreams where nothing, no matter how perverse is off the table….and I’m immensely proud of that fact. Let me tell you why. 

When I was 13, I overheard my mum talking to her BFF. This woman said something that stuck with me then and resonates with me now. They were talking, as women do, about sex. Here’s what I heard her say “…….Sometimes, I’d love him to have me (her voice dropped conspiratorially)….anally……to just bend me over the table and do it. Of course, I’d never tell him, or even let on that it’s something I’d like.” This woman will go to her grave with the most horrid thought imaginable “I wish I had…….” Well, not me. I’ll try literally anything once, and if I don’t like it…..well…..I don’t have to do it again, do I? 

So, you find me now, sitting on the downstairs lavatory, my panties round my ankles and my knees spread wide apart. I’m looking at the mess in the crotch and it’s reminding me of my school days when I would sneak a quick wank in the girls’ restroom. I cum noiselessly and there’s a little trickle of squirt into the water. 

I tug my panties back up, feeling a moment’s coldness where the wetness that had been kept warm by my body has cooled. I should change really but….what the heck. 

After lunch, by mid afternoon, there’s a distinct t change in me. I feel…hmmm….almost predatorial. I feel like a hunter. (Sigh) But since there’s no Hunter to be had, i prowl around my house with no idea what I want to do…I just knew it has to be….dirty…naughty…something along those lines. A straight forward wank simply won’t do it. Hmm….what to do? 

I find myself in the basement utility room. This huge and largely under-used room houses the computers that run the house, and along the opposite wall, stacked as a commercial washing machine, dryer, and two large sinks. There are also three laundry hampers too. This home, unlike my parents’ place has a ‘dumb waiter’ thing…a sort of lift that runs up the entire north wall of the house. On each landing it simply looks like a cupboard door, but when the lift is in the right place, the door can be opened so items like laundry hampers can be moved down for washing. It even stops in the kitchen so food can be raised one level to the dining room. (Which we haven’t used, but sounds very grown up)

And there it is. Dani’s hamper. Oh, I shouldn’t. No, really….I mustn’t. Then again, I could do with a change of panties. These really are very moist. I take mine off, dry myself with them as best I can and whip the nearest pair of Dani’s undies out of her hamper. They are white, and slightly stained in the crotch. I slip them on, closing my eyes in delight as her sex cream touches my vulva.

I used to do this sometimes in the locker room at school. Back then, slipping another girl’s moist panties on was the absolute height of ‘naughty’. And it still has that frisance of delectability today. Dani has gently creamed in these. That thought sends a shudder through me. Instantly, I know what I want to do, but it needs careful thought. How shall I cover myself? Hmmm…..oh….got,it. I’ll do what I need to do, then I’ll put on a ‘whites’ wash for all of us. Yep. That’ll do it. 

Practicalities sorted, I wander around the concrete-floored room. There’s a small drain in the floor, which will also serve my purposes well. I luxuriate in feeling another girl’s panties next to my sex, and I allow myself to mentally explore them. Pure white, low cut…the kind any self-respecting schoolgirl wants to wear when she feels old enough to get away from the ‘granny panties’ mum bought for her when she started ‘big school’. These even have a tiny bow sewn into the front. A smile crosses my lips. Some girls would buy packs of these a size too small so they could pull the backs up between the cheeks of their bums and pretend they were wearing thongs…..ah…happy memories! 

My mind travels over my flat tummy, then my pubic bone and then between my legs where I know my labia are pushing the material out and forming a rather delightful camel toe, and there….directly under my body, lie the stains Dani’s cunt has made.

I stand over the drain, push my hand down her panties and masturbate furiously. I know what I will do as I cum.

The moment hits me, and I let everything flow. The excitement of an orgasm is erotic enough, but doing it in panties adds a whole new dimension….doing it in Dani’s panties, makes my head swim. The orgasm is…..vicious. There’s no other word. It bites at me and wires me like a small terrier with a dead rat, shaking its head violently from side to side. 

Wow! I’ve had two…or is it three….wanks already today….I wasn’t expecting something as powerful as this. 

I clean up…sort our ‘whites’ wash out and toss it in……the dryer. Fuck…both machines look almost identical, and I so rarely use them myself. I pull all the clothes out, put them in the right machine add a detergent tablet and press the ‘whites’ program button. I hear hopeful noises so something it happening. 

I use the downstairs sinks to have a quick ‘undies’ wash. Of course, that leaves me without panties….and I’ve just cum, so I’m still oozing wetness. I can already smell myself. I wander upstairs and am surprised to find Dani in the kitchen. She’s back from her errands early…not too early though. I walk past her and she instantly turns her head towards me. I see…..actually see….her arousal begin. Her nostrils widen and  her pupils dilate. A soft pink hue is added to the milky white of her skin around her upper chest and neck, and her voice becomes slightly husky. Since me, Emily and Dani merged on the floor into a threesome of sex and bodily fluids that would technically classify us as one body, our arousal near each other has been way more rapid and far more visible. I’m minded of Miggs’s statement to Clarice Starling in Silence of the Lambs, and I half expect her to hiss, “I can smell your cunt.” She doesn’t, of course…..but I know she can. 

We sit with a coffee and she talks about Emily and how much I’ll miss her while she’s away. Of course I shall. Cyber sex is ok, but it’s not the real thing. I tell Dani we do cyber, and it’s something new to her. She asks “But don’t you prefer a real touch?” I waffle on about yes, of course I do, but Emily’s away and….Miss Brain draws her hand back and slaps me resoundingly round my face. “She’s fucking offering to sleep with you, you dumb-assed cunt!” Oh. I really can be dense sometimes. I’m about to say something crass and unrefined like, “Well…feel free to help out” When Miss Brain hooks a finger up one of my nostrils and lifts it up painfully. She says, condescendingly, as if speaking to an errant child “Noooo. Think again…..try to be subtle.” So eventually I say, “Ah well…..if I leave my bedroom door open tonight, you never know…someone might creep in and satisfy my carnal desires.” Miss Brain nods her approval. “Better” Miss Brain tells me. 

It’s 11:00pm. Dani and I have watched a movie in the home cinema. She made us popcorn and brought a bottle of wine in. I went to bed as she tidied away. I’m under my duvet on my side of the bed, the furthest from the door. My bedroom door isn’t wide open, but it’s not closed. I feel the warmth of the duvet, and I know that sleep isn’t far away. In fact, I think I’m in that halfway point between awake and asleep when I feel weight on the bed behind me. An arm snakes over me and reaches for my naked breast while a soft mouth kisses the nape of my neck………