Arthur Alexander - Emily_s Lips

And it was all so strange! Laura didn't even flinch at the terrible way the man had described her. Instead, as she ambled up onto the lawn, her face was alive with humor and interest. "Ah, Emily! So you're the one."

"Laura!" Emily stumbled forward. "You don't understand. I don't want to be here.

They're so rough, you see, and unpleasant." Behind her, she heard the men chuckle.

"I was just going downstairs, and this man grabbed me, and-oh! It's so awful." But even as she said it, she realized that it hadn't been, not as awful as she was picturing.

But Laura was sympathetic. "Of course it is, my dear. Of course it is." Laura put her arm around Emily's shoulders. "You don't like this rough treatment. Well, I don't blame you. I wouldn't like it either. No one likes being mauled and pushed about.

Now you just sit there by the fountain, dear, and I'll dry your poor face. You have had such a trying time with these men."

As she had last night, Laura came to the rescue. Emily allowed herself to be seated.

Laura knelt by her side arid dipped some water up on her handkerchief. The coolness was grateful against Emily's flushed and sweating forehead and cheeks, and she began to grow calm. The men, meanwhile, were standing around awkwardly, apparently crestfallen at the failure of their foul scheme.

"No woman likes being roughly treated, my dear. Of course you don't."

Emily felt so very relieved because someone at last understood that her fundamental goodwill bubbled forth once more. It seemed now a happy occasion, a glad gathering of friends who had been brought together, to be sure, by a misunderstanding, but who were now pleased to be in one another's company. She made every effort now to make the men feel at home. She smiled up at her former tormenters. "It's so silly. I would have been happy to meet you all, if you had just asked. I'm sorry if I misled you somehow, but you must admit that you did persist.

They, in their turn, apologized prettily, and soon all five were sitting upon the lawn and chatting about the beauties of the peaks as revealed by moonlight. It was really extraordinarily soothing to lie on her back looking out through the panes at the high, mountain night with these amiable companions.

Someone-Laura-lit a cigarette, took a long puff, and handed it to her. Strange way to smoke a cigarette, she thought, but then she caught a whiff of it. "Ah," she grinned, "ye olde wacky weed."

"Far fucking out," commented the curly headed man.

"Far, as you so rightly put it, fucking out," replied Emily, and she took a long toke. It was green and strong. "Jesus, this is some fine dope," she breathed in that tight voice one uses. She passed the joint along.

And Laura lit a second, thicker than the first, nearly a cigar, and handed that to her.

Soon there were three joints going around, coming to Emily so frequently that she hardly could smoke fast enough to keep up.

"Oooooo, yesssss," she crooned as her first buzz seemed to turn her over and over.

"Oh, it's so good to be stoned again!"

"We grow it ourselves, right here," commented Laura. "Organic."

Emily's sudden splutter at that lost her a lungful of smoke, but it sure was a good joke. She collapsed against Laura and giggled helplessly. "Organic dope?"

"All those little compost-beasties do their good work."

"Who's that guy, the Grape Nuts man?" Emily put on a serious express ion and a drawl as she passed the joint along. "It's taste reminds me of wild hickory nuts."

And now they were all laughing, building on top of that.

Finally, the laughter dwindled away, and Emily suddenly felt a deep concern for the men she had treated so badly. After all, they had only wanted to have a little fun with her. There was nothing wrong in that. So she sat up and took the older man's face in her hands. "I'm sorry," she said. "It wasn't you, you know. I really got scared."

"Well, I should have been more sensitive," he replied. "But you liked it at first, didn't you?"

"Until you hit me."

"I never was much good at knowing how to hit a woman," he said ruefully. "I suppose because I don't really like it."

"That's just as well, for I don't either."

She looked him deeply in the eyes for a moment and then bent forward and kissed him on the lips. She had initiated the kiss in a purely experimental mood. It was another sensation to revel in. The dope was making her float upon a tide of sensation, and, as a general thing, she had always enjoyed the sensations of a kiss.

Her present condition only accentuated that. But, as is often the case with dope and with kisses, what was begun as a whimsey changed during its action into something more serious. Emily realized after what seemed like a long tim e that her eyes had been tightly shut all the while, and that the nearness of this man was stimulating her.

She had started the kiss, she recalled, but he gave as good as he got, and now she felt decidedly breathless. There was a curious sensation of light, featherlike touches all over her calves and thighs, and she looked down to discover that this was logical after all, for his hands were occupied with titillating the sensitive skin of her legs. It amused her to watch those tanned and masculine hands pass their quivering way up and down across her smooth flesh. She leaned back upon arms propped behind her and looked down her gorgeous torso at her legs, all loose and splayed for the man's entertainment. Her skirt somehow had become fucked higher than normal. She herself was aroused at the sight of so much handsome thigh catching the soft, white light of the moon.

The man too must have been excited by the sight, for he bent reverently forward and planted a kiss upon the instep of her nude right foot. He lifted the little foot in his hands and kissed her instep again. The sensation was indescribably erotic. No one, she thought, had ever kissed her feet before. An unused portion of her body, virgin territory, ultima thule, and she nearly collapsed back onto the lawn as the almosttickling kiss was repeated. His lips then paid tribute to her heel and the ball of her foot.

One by one, he took her little toes into his mouth and sucked them. He licked the little crevices between them-and an errant thought from another world flickered across her mind: thank God, she had both bathed and swum today! But his mouth continued to worship her foot, now climbing slowly along its top toward her ankle. He kissed each bone of her ankle, and then, holding her heel and the fleshy portion of her calf, he proceeded upwards along the inside of her leg. He was kneeling between her legs with her right leg lifted into the air somewhat, and Emily was acutely aware that his eyes could easily travel up the white curve of her calf, over her rounded knee, and back downward along the darkening flesh of her beveled thigh.

She knew, too, that if he followed that lovely vision far enough, he would be greeted at it end by the sight of her very apex, lightly and inconsequentially clad in her most lacy panties. She saw the picture as she had often examined it in mirrors: her thigh raised, her prominent pussy mound raised between the thigh and the rest of her body; her soft cunt lips gently encased in their light material pouting succulently under the downward curve of her cunt bone, and all of it disappearing backwards in the fleshiness of her ass. She knew that this was the sight he was watching as he slid his kisses along the inside of her calf. She knew that he was moving slowly toward her cunt, that his face was approaching it as his lips slid over her knee. She knew he was looking deeply into her cunt as he commenced his ministrations to her thigh. Her skirt was pressed higher by his head, and now she could see nothing really except the darkness of his hair, and her skirt, and the lawn around them. Her head rolled back on her shoulders, and she concentrated on the feeling alone.