Uninhibited (Unlikely Lovers)

by Brooks, Cheryl

“It’s getting tighter, isn’t it?” he whispered. “You can’t see it, but it looks like a tiny little cock that’s about to blow—just like I’m gonna come in your face when you suck my dick. And don’t worry, I washed it for you, baby. It’s ready for you to suck, but you have to come first. I want to hear you, watch you, feel you when you do it. Come for me, baby. And then I’m gonna fuck your face.”

  That did it. Emily went off like a screaming bottle rocket, ramming her knees into his chest as her body jackknifed into orgasm. He never let go, but gave her a moment to recover before sliding his finger over her hyper-sensitive clitoris so slowly she couldn’t even tell it was moving until she climaxed again—and again, and again until she couldn’t respond anymore.

  Kneeling beside her shoulder before moving on to straddle her chest, he massaged her face with his cockhead. His dick was so hard it gleamed, the strands of cock syrup dripping onto her face from his slit in a kaleidoscope of colors.

  “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Look at me, Emily. Let me see those fabulous eyes.”

  Tearing her eyes away from the mesmerizing vision of his cock, she gazed up at him, hovering there above her.

  “I was right before,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You truly are the face of love.”

  Whether that was true or not, she certainly loved him—every last bit of him right down to the hair on his toes. But this time she didn’t say it. She showed him how she felt in the way he understood best. Kissing the slick head, she took a sip of his salty fluid and sucked him in.

  Simply tasting him was almost enough to send her rocketing to the stars, but she held on, caressing his cock with her tongue. Alan fell forward onto his hands, rocking his hips, fucking her mouth gently, thoroughly. His shaft grew even harder in her mouth and he gasped as the chain reaction leading to his climax began. Just as he filled her mouth with his cum, another powerful orgasm gripped her. She barely had time to swallow before he was on her, his lips seeking hers, devouring them completely.

  When at last he collapsed beside her, she held him in her arms, sifting her fingers through his hair. She was probably being selfish, but at that point, she felt justified in not telling him the truth. There was no reason to spoil this night or the coming celebrations with an issue that could just as easily be dealt with a day later.

  It was like keeping a secret about a present that couldn’t be opened until after Christmas. She could do that. He didn’t have to know the precise timing of the bomb Janice had dropped on her. One more day, and then she would tell him what she knew. She would assure him it didn’t matter, beg him not to give up on their love, and swear not to let his past come between them.

  We can work it out.

  The words to that old song ran through her mind. They weren’t the first couple to have problems to overcome. Granted, the circumstances were unique, but so many people gave up too easily, often unwilling to make the effort required to make a relationship work. Instant gratification had become the norm, and the incredible advances in technology didn’t teach patience—unless, of course, the Internet wasn’t working, which resulted in more frustration than anything. Looking past the present moment to see the whole picture wasn’t a popular pastime.

  Emily could see it, though. A lifetime spent loving Alan was worth far more to her than pride or prejudice.

  Or sense or sensibility.

  Smiling to herself, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “What time is it?”

  He peered at his watch. “Twelve-fifteen. Merry Christmas, Em.”

  “Merry Christmas, Alan. This has been the best Christmas Eve I can remember.”

  He snuggled closer. “I wasn’t sure you were enjoying yourself at first.”

  “Had a lot on my mind. But I’m better now.” She shifted sideways to take the pressure off her tailbone. Sex under the tree was great, but sleeping on the floor left a lot to be desired. “Ready to go to bed?”

  “Yeah. Don’t forget to pee and take your medicine.”

  “I won’t.”

  Rising up on his elbow, he looked at her. “What would you like for breakfast in the morning?”

  She laughed lightly. “You mean I have a choice?”

  “Just this once—as long as it isn’t doughnuts.”

  “Okay, then, I want a cheese omelet, bacon, cinnamon rolls, and spiced tea.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I saw that can of rolls in the fridge when I put away the tofu salad. They’re a little healthier than doughnuts, but not by much. And bacon?” He shuddered. “So bad for you in so many ways and on so many levels.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t eat it very often, except in the summertime. My dad grows the biggest, juiciest tomatoes in the world. When they start getting ripe, the entire family is in BLT heaven.”

  “I guess I could have a TLT—turkey, lettuce, and tomato.”

  “Suit yourself, but I’m not giving up the bacon.”

  “Ah, well. One must compromise. Perhaps someday you’ll see the error of your ways.”

  “And someday you might see the error of yours. Sure, turkey is great as long as it’s smothered in gravy, but bacon is orgasmic all by itself.”

  “I dunno. Aunt Grace bakes a darn good turkey. You’ll see for yourself tomorrow.”

  Emily chuckled. “And you’ll get to taste Turkey à la Janice tomorrow evening. I’m betting your aunt’s version will have hers beat by a mile.”

  “By the time all the partying is over, we’ll be so sick of turkey, I might have to eat bacon just for the novelty.”

  “Hey, anytime you want it, I’ll be here to fry it up for you.”

  That is, if Alan was still around by then. And if she had any say in the matter, he would be.

  The good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.

  Alan got up and held out his hand, helping her to her feet. As Emily wrapped the blanket around her and headed off to the bathroom, she couldn’t help wondering why so many of the sayings regarding determination and resolve included references to floods.

  Her only hope was that tomorrow wasn’t the day she learned the answer to that question.

  Chapter 27

  Alan awoke before dawn and lay there for a long time, savoring the moment. Emily was there beside him, still sound asleep. The silence was so complete he could’ve heard snow falling.

  Christmas morning. Hopefully the first of many they would spend together. He imagined this day a few years from now, perhaps being awakened by their excited children. Would they be boys or girls or some of each? His parents had a boy and a girl. Perhaps he and Emily would too.

  He didn’t even know if Emily wanted children. Had they ever discussed the possibility? He didn’t think so. Maybe it was too soon. Hell, it was too soon for half the things that had happened between them. Would it end as quickly as it had begun?

  No. When a guy found the right one, it should happen fast—and then last forever. He’d told Emily on the night they met that he had to act fast before the woman in question decided she couldn’t stand him. Emily didn’t seem to be following that pattern. If anything, she liked him better now than she did then.

  She wasn’t depressed anymore, and he was pleased to think he had something to do with her recovery. She was certainly the determining factor in the improvement of his mood. His family hadn’t said it within Emily’s hearing, but every one of them had remarked on the difference in him—if for no other reason than he’d picked up a pound or two.

  He smiled to himself, remembering that he’d never had trouble maintaining his weight until the past year. The trick now would be maintaining his stamina.

  Maybe I need to eat more bacon and cinnamon rolls.

  Daylight slid between the slats in the blinds, sending rays of sunshine across the room to land on Emily’s face.

  The face of love.

  Young or old, her face would always mean love to Alan. He would see it in her eyes and the warmth of her smile. Those things would never change.


  While he watched, her breathing altered slightly, and with a sigh, she opened her eyes.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered.

  Following her yawn, a smile curved her lips. “I was having this lovely dream. You were here in bed with me, and I was eating cinnamon rolls while you massaged my feet.”

  “Sounds decadent.”

  “Oh, it was. Very decadent.”

  Leaning closer, he kissed her cheek. “You stay right there, and I’ll at least bring you breakfast. Dunno about the foot massage. You know how that’ll end up.”

  “Yes, I do—and it was…awesome.” She sat up, the sheet sliding down her chest to reveal her beautiful breasts. “Although I wouldn’t want to wear you out before I give you your presents.”

  “I take it those presents will cause some sort of ejaculatory response?”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “My favorite kind,” he said with a wink. “Do you want to open presents before or after breakfast?”

  “We never got around to having that discussion last night, did we?”

  He shook his head. “I can give you yours whenever you like—it’s G-rated.”

  “Really? You astonish me. More wine and chocolate—or maybe a copy of Cinderella?”

  “Nope. Something completely different.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “I’m even more intrigued by what you might’ve gotten for me.”

  “Well…seeing as how I already gave you one present, I think you can guess where I got the rest of them.”

  “Geez, Em, if my dick wasn’t hard before, it is now. More penis jewelry?”

  She made a face at him. “I’m not telling.”

  “So it is, then.” He waggled his brow. “Something I can wear all the time?”

  This time her expression was more of a scowl. “You’ve been peeking.”

  “No, but I’m starting to understand how your mind works. You’re still trying to wear me out, aren’t you?” He hoped his teasing tone took any sting out of his words.

  “No, I’m not. I’m trying to keep your dick hard and make you come all over the place.” She tapped her chin. “By the way, did I ever get that cum bath?”

  “What? You mean you don’t remember it?”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “I’ll refresh your memory anytime you like.”

  “Ooh, baby.” Tossing back the covers, she hopped out of bed. “Be right back.”

  Since he had a feeling his dick would be required to model something very shortly, he rolled onto his back and kicked the sheets aside. Pre-cum was already oozing from his slit, and he spread it over the head, making it shine.

  Emily returned a few minutes later with an armful of presents. “Beware of nude women bearing gifts.” She dropped the pile of goodies on his chest and climbed onto the bed. Settling herself between his legs, she gave him a wink. “Don’t worry. I brushed my teeth.” Then she went down on him so fast he dropped a couple of the boxes. She let go for a second, picking one of them up. “Open this one first.”

  Since he was already about to come in her face, he ripped off the paper and opened the box. “And this would be…?”

  “A scrotum shield,” she said. “Here, I’ll show you.”

  Similar to the Christmas tree dick decoration, this was a Y-shaped gold piece that looked like a penis with wings and was held in place with a chain and an elastic cord that looped underneath his scrotum. A tiny charm dangled from the cockhead like a droplet of pre-cum. By the time she had it on him, his dick was purple.

  She nodded her approval. “Very chic. Some of these things had matching leashes, but since you don’t like being tied up, I figured I’d pass on that for now.”

  Two seconds later, his dick went off like Old Faithful.

  She arched a brow. “You actually like the idea of me leading you around by the balls?”

  “I believe I do,” he gasped. “That’s nothing like being tied up and deserted.”

  “True. Maybe I’ll get one with a leash for your birthday.”

  Alan was perilously close to coming again, but somehow managed to tamp down the response.

  “Open another one.”

  He was almost afraid to. This time, it was an elastic band attached to a chain and a teardrop shaped pendant.

  “Penis bracelet,” she said. “You can wear these all day.” She grinned. “I learned a lot at that store.”

  By the time he’d opened the rest of his gifts—three different types of lube and six vibrating cock rings—Alan’s balls ached like he’d been kneed in the groin. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

  “You better believe it, big guy. My pussy is killing me.” Turning around, she sat down on his prick.

  Alan groaned as his penis disappeared into her pussy and let out a yelp when she wiggled her ass.

  She rose up until only his cockhead remained lodged in her slit. “Squirt some of that lube on your dick.”

  Grabbing the nearest bottle, he flipped up the lid and aimed it at his shaft. The clear fluid only felt cold for a second before she sat back down.

  Rotating her hips, she let out a satisfied sigh. “Much better. Sit still while I fuck you.”

  Since he’d seldom taken a passive role, Alan wasn’t sure he could do it, but he somehow managed to hold still—although his lower lip would probably bear teeth marks for days.

  Her hair hung down her back, and from time to time he could see her tits when she shifted sideways. Her hips flared out from her waist, culminating in the roundest, most succulent ass he could imagine. Slapping his hands onto her butt cheeks, he held tight, pumping her up and down on his dick.

  “You’re supposed to hold still,” she chided.

  “I am. I’m moving you, not me.”

  “True.” She ground her pussy against his groin before sitting down hard so hard his nuts bounced. “You know, for a second there, I thought you were going to spank me.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Sure. Smack that ass and then fuck it if you like.” Popping up off his dick, she thrust backward, shaking her ass at him.

  He slapped her once, and her head snapped back, creating a dip in her lower back that displayed her swollen pussy lips as well as her asshole. She moaned with the second smack and he could’ve sworn he saw juice squirt out of her pussy with the third.

  “I think I like that,” she said. “One more time, then you can stick your dick in my ass.”

  Alan wasn’t sure he’d last that long.

  He didn’t. With a yell that probably startled Santa’s elves, he fired off a round that squeezed his nuts dry.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered as his body seemed to melt into the mattress.

  She shot a grin over her shoulder. “Am I gonna have to fix breakfast myself?”

  “Maybe. Not sure I’ll be able to move for a while.”

  Rocking forward onto her hands and knees, she turned around and gave him a kiss that would’ve made him come again if he’d had anything left in his balls.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetie. Want bacon with your omelet?”

  “Absolutely. Half a pound should do it. Might need five or six cinnamon rolls, too.”

  “Coming right up.”

  She hopped off the bed and headed for the kitchen. Somehow he doubted he’d be coming anytime soon.

  Wow.

  * * * *

  Emily was halfway through lunch at the home of Alan’s Aunt Grace and Uncle Adam when she realized she hadn’t given a thought to her “problem” since breakfast. Even then, she’d only caught herself briefly wishing she had a recent photo of her parents laying about for Alan to notice. One of their wedding pictures hung on the wall, and although Emily could certainly recognize her mother from it, she doubted that Alan would make the connection.

  Emily thought she’d done pretty well remembering everyone’s name—mainly because Alan had briefed her on the way over. “Travis is the guy with short blond hair, dimples, and a ki
ller smile. His wife Miranda is a nurse—very pretty with long auburn hair, and like I said before, she’s several years older than Travis. Her son Levi is mildly autistic—a cute blond kid in his early twenties. He’s funny as hell. You’ll love him.”

  Travis’s brother, Stuart, had been dating a lawyer named Christina for about six months. “They look like a couple of movie stars,” Alan said. “She’s gorgeous and he’s tall, dark and handsome. Miranda’s younger sister Tracy might be there, too, but I don’t know her very well.”

  Travis and Miranda had greeted her warmly, as had Alan’s aunt and uncle. Levi’s frank observation that he was happy Alan had found a beautiful girl to marry had everyone chuckling until Tracy arrived sporting a black eye and a swollen nose.

  While no one else seemed to know what to say, Levi didn’t hesitate. “Aunt Tracy! What happened to your face?”

  Tracy’s attempt at a smile became a wince as her lip split open and began to bleed. “Nothing much, just another bad date.”

  “You shouldn’t go out with those mean men,” Levi said bluntly. “You should marry a nice guy.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t tried,” Tracy said as Miranda pulled her into a hug. “I think it’s time for me to give up.”

  “No,” Levi insisted. “There are lots of nice men. Maybe they aren’t very handsome, but at least they aren’t mean.”

  Tracy shrugged. “I guess that’s the answer. Only date the homely ones.”

  Chad had been a real looker, and so was Emily’s husband, Dane. She’d learned the hard way that looks weren’t everything—and so, apparently, had Tracy.

  Miranda gazed at her sister with angry tears in her eyes. “I hope the bastard rots in jail.”

  Tracy’s laughter sounded more like a series of sobs. “He’ll probably wind up there eventually.”

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t press charges. Did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Tracy would’ve been quite pretty if it weren’t for her injuries. Her soft brown hair was shoulder-length and shining, but her eyes were dull and she looked exhausted. “I gave almost as good as I got, and my neighbor clobbered him with a guitar and practically strangled him with the strap before booting his ass down the stairs—which was pretty impressive considering Bryce is easily twice his size.” For an instant, her eyes sparkled with mischief and a trace of affection.