Emily Uncensored Book 1: The Neighbors Page 4

  OH, wait!

  I am not a killer, though. I just want some throbbing cock in my face. “IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK GERTIE?” I scream at her. My cat begins to clean herself.

  When home alone, if a T.V. show or murder documentary are not doing the trick, I turn to my Japanese friends of www.hentaixxx.com. Don’t worry, I’ll narrate.

  We can now see Jenny, a young and vulnerable secretary, being punished by her boss for not filing the proper paperwork. As they get naughty on the desk, her animated breasts pop out of her blouse and fall perfectly into his hands. He finishes with a gentle thrust and asks her to never speak of this again. Jenny is overwhelmed as she pulls back down her skirt. She blushes and cartoon hearts fill up space around her head. She enjoyed herself. But wait! There is another who has caught her eye.

  Jenny is approached by her female co-worker Karasumi. Karasumi is a dainty blonde and before you can say “Nagasaki”, they are licking each other in precarious places. Now the boss comes back in and sees Jenny and Karasumi. He is jealous but also intrigued. It is late at their office and mostly everyone has gone home. Jenny invites her boss in.

  …To Be Continued

  Next up: Koko Sisters in Action

  “No thanks!” I say to my computer.

  I shut it closed. It’s now midnight and I decide to sneak downstairs to the mailroom. I grab my robe. Yes the one from before. I’m sorry but at this point if anyone catches me wearing it, it better be Jonathan and he better be willing to take this off of me. I also have wool socks on, so not sure how intriguing that will be.

  I start down. I hear some loud noises coming from below. As I reach the part of the stairs where they curve and Apartment 103 can be seen, I notice their light is on. Their apartment door is open. I take two steps back up the stairs. It’s freezing out here. I decide to hang back for a minute to see what those two are up to. Jonathan suddenly slams the door shut and I can hear yelling.

  Yes, my love, that hell hole of an apartment would get to me too!.

  I dash for the mailboxes and huddle by the large potted plant growing near the front door. Poor thing is in desperate need of some attention, but luckily for me it’s large and my small frame fits behind it perfectly. Just then- shit! Molly is storming out the front door.

  I realize I am staring hard and in plain view now, peering out from the plant, and although Molly didn’t see or hear me, I obviously can’t contain myself and need to make my way back upstairs to regroup. I run for the stairs, right as Jonathan opens the door. He seems in a hurry. Good, maybe he won’t see me. Or better yet, maybe he will see me and want to relinquish his rage and frustration my way.

  I jump up to the first creaky wooden step and I hear their door slam. Did I seriously just bypass that whole scene? I am stealthy as a mother fucker. I literally high-five myself and run back up the cold wooden stairs, slide into my apartment and land head first onto my couch. Again. What a rush! I return to my computer, reboot my magical porn site and have some fun. Just then, the power goes out.

  In the dark.

  With my cat.

  What a joy.

  I scrape around the kitchen and try to find some candles. I grab a tea light out of the top drawer and make my way to the bathroom using wall brail, until I reach the toilet. On top of it lies a large pumpkin spice scented candle. I can hear the wind outside my windows. I light the candles and return to the living room. I grab a small flashlight from my purse lying by the front door. I use it to look for the cat food and I fill Gertie’s bowl.

  “We are in for a long night Gertie. No Television. I guess we will have to read.”

  I stroke her fur but again she dodges me. I sit in my sexy robe and look down at my phone. Six text messages. All form my mother.

  Oh wait, one from Derek.

  I open them.

  Derek: “Hope you are feeling better than you looked on Friday.”

  Ugh, Ya don’t remind me, Derek!

  Mom: “Hi honey, just checking in, are you warm enough?”

  Text #2 from Mom: “Did you get my first text? I am heading to Ashley’s Bridal shower. Did you know she is three years younger than you? No wasting time!”

  Text #3 from Mom: “Emily, I heard there was a storm out there. Make sure to shut all of your windows.”

  Oh, for Christ’s sake mother, I mean really.

  Text #4 from Mom: “I just put $500 into your account, please go buy yourself a warm jacket.”

  Text #5 from Mom: “Just checking in before we go to bed. The bridal shower was so cute!! Can’t wait for yours one day.”

  …And, this is why I don’t respond to text messages. Especially from mother.

  I turn my phone sideways and begin to read my newest Kindle purchase: POLITICAL ECSTASY, OVAL OFFICE SURPRISE. Just as I am settling in for an erotic government get down, my door becomes loud. Knock, knock, knock! Usually I can tell from the knocking what kind of person is at my door. Knocking with one’s fist, usually implies some form of anger, which could only be Mrs. Helmsley from 303A. She swears she can hear my every move. I just tell her she has the wrong apartment, and usually that confuses her enough that she leaves.

  A gentle tapping is usually Bart, that sweet and stylish black man. Or the Jehovah’s Witnesses who fear me, because once I told them that Marilyn Manson was my hero and that “riding dicks all day makes me sore and tired so could they come back tomorrow”.

  Three knocks.

  Now, three knocks is usually someone who has a purpose. Someone who has something direct to say. There is only one person who I can think of that might have something to say to me right now. I look down at myself. I am wearing superwoman panties, a small silk robe and wool socks. This should be great.

  7

  Sexsession

  The bottle hits the floor with a bang.

  Glass breaks.

  My nipple is popping out of the top of my robe and my loins are pulsating with heat. He grazes my cheek and lifts me up from my butt, sits me firmly on the kitchen counter, and kisses my neck. He reaches back with his leg and slams the door shut. I grab onto the collar of his jacket and rip it down to his arms. He does the rest and the jacket hits the floor. He pulls up my robe and pushes my panties to the side. I am freezing cold and sensationally hot all at the same time.

  He undoes his pants and pauses for a moment. He moves my black hair off of my face and kisses my upper lip, holding onto it for a second. I realize I am moaning. I open my eyes just to check that it’s really him. My phone is buzzing, as it sits on the counter. I take my free hand and try to move it to the side, out of our way. I am carried away, grabbing his hair and smelling his scent and taking in everything about him.

  I think I have worked myself up to the point of climax already when I hear “Emily? Darling?” coming from my phone. Oh my god, what the fuck?! I must have accidentally slid the green part of the screen instead of the red.

  He is grabbing me and doesn’t stop.

  I don’t either, but the last thing I want on this earth is my mother in the middle of my fantasy fuck fest with Mr. Naughty Neighbor. I pull away fast and reach out for the phone to turn it off, but Jonathan grabs me hard and sits me back into position. He enters me. And I can’t help but yell out a little. I forget about the phone and my eyes go fuzzy.

  A few seconds later it’s all over and he is breathing on top of me and the cold counter is now noticeable and everything is coming back into focus. I catch my breath and pull his head up off of my chest.

  “What. Was. That?” I ask, still trying to get my breathing back on track.

  “That was something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.” He says in a sweet and genuine way. Just then I realize my phone is on the ground. This could be awkward.

  “Hey I need to grab my phone, I think my mom rang in the middle of us having glorious sex on my kitchen counter. Isn’t that a fun fact you wanted to know?”

  “Haha, really?” He laughs and doesn’t think anything of it.

&nb
sp; This is weird, it feels like we are old friends just shooting the shit. What is happening? I am never this open with people.

  OK good, phone is off! (I think to myself).

  I will have to come up with a good lie to tell Gwen later. Once I get my bearings, I realize what just happened. I instantly start to feel self-conscience and pull my robe back together.

  “Nice socks neighbor.” Jonathan is putting his belt back together. He picks up his coat but instead of putting it on, he lays it over the back of my couch. Is he planning on staying awhile? Jesus. This I was not prepared for.

  “Where is Molly?” I ask as I fold my arms over my chest.

  “Where is my picture?” His direct question leaves me speechless.

  His picture? “It’s of me, so isn’t it my picture?” I ask as I step closer to him in a seductive manner. What the hell is this? Are my genes kicking in? Oh my gosh! I am my fucking mother. I instantly retract my move and run to the bedroom. He runs after me. We get to the bed but I get there first. I reach my hand under the pillow but it’s gone. No picture.

  “Where are you hiding it Emily?” He asks in a deep tone as he stands at the foot of my bed. It’s still very dark in my apartment and only the moon, shining into my bedroom, gives us light. He looks chiseled and handsome and kind of scary. “It was my favorite one, so you really should give it back.” He seems so calm and collected. This is not the sweet lawyer who was at my door a few weeks ago.

  I expect this out of Molly but, Jonathan is like a puppy dog. “Your favorite?” I step closer to him.

  He pushes me onto the bed and grabs both of my arms, reaching them over my head as he holds me down. For a split second I’m unsure of what is happening and feel out of control. Just then he kisses me gently on the lips and whispers in my ear.

  “If I don’t get that picture by tomorrow, I will come back.”

  A shiver is sent through my body. That is the best threat anyone has ever said to me. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow, I want it right now! He gently removes his body from mine and leaves the room. I sit up and as I start to stand I hear the front door shut. He is gone. What just happened?

  I tuck my hair behind my ears.

  I smile.

  8

  Routine

  My eyes slowly open and I wipe the mascara from my face. Every light in my apartment is on. I must have tried to turn them on last night after the outage. Everything is a little fuzzy at the moment. I am unwilling to leave my warm bed. I realize it’s Monday, and I start back to work later. I’m not sure if last night happened or if it was a dream, so I check my phone. Not only did my mother call at precisely 12:03am (probably worried about all of my unanswered texts), but she called again this morning and left a message:

  “Darling (long pause) I’m not sure what sort of movies you are into but please have a little more class. I called you last night worried sick! Please call your mother or I will come up to New York myself!”

  And it’s confirmed.

  My mother indeed did call in the middle of my neighbor on neighbor Sunday-night-action-fest.

  I can’t believe it!

  But at least she thought I was watching porn instead of acting it out. Is that what they call dodging a bullet? I feel under my pillow for the missing photo. Do I even want to find it now? I lift my pillow and search with my eyes. I look between the mattress and the wall. I look under the mattress. Well, Emily if you didn’t keep this place such a mess, you might be able to find hot neighbors photo.

  I get up and head to the toilet. The best feeling in the world is the one of a fully released bladder in the AM. I sleep so hard, that usually in the mornings, I have to leap out of bed to pee and barely make it to the toilet. Ahhhhh… perfection. I should really clean up in here, I think to myself. Gertie rubs her coat up against my leg. “Gertie you have the worst timing” I say as I am wiping.

  Work is slow. I can’t even read because flash images of Jonathan keep reappearing. Derek interrupts my train of thought with “Hey fellow co-worker! Wanna get some grub later?” I can’t even answer that. How do I “get some grub” with Derek when a tall drink of water could be waiting for me to take advantage of him later? Alright Emily (I try and talk myself out of something at least once a day), that was hot and crazy and awesome last night, but you live in a world, a real world, with a job and a cat and…

  - I stop myself.

  - I have no real world.

  - I really don’t have much of a life.

  “Derek I wish I could, but I am booked tonight.” I try and pretend I am reading my political erotica, but he interrupts again.

  “Doing what?”

  I look up at him, this time annoyed. I know we have gone to the bar a couple of times and I realize, that for him, it’s like getting to second base, but Derek needs to start living in reality. “Derek, I have a special guest coming over tonight, if you get my drift?” There, that should put a stop to him.

  “Oh, really? Does he have a name?” Nope, no stop to his drift at all. Ok so I will have to build a Dam.

  “Yes…” I close my book and look up at him square on. “Her name is Lavender and she dances.” I try to be deadpan but he starts to laugh. I stay calm. He settles and looks at me again as if all of the world’s problems were being solved in that very moment.

  “Oh, you are funny…” He laughs and is very relieved and pleased. I can see what he is thinking. “You like women, Emily. I totally support that. Right on. Good for you.” I knew this would fucking shut him up already.

  “Ok, great Derek thanks for the support buddy.” I get back to my reading. I am laughing my ass off on the inside.

  Derek walks away with a new outlook on life. He is thinking: he can’t be with me because I like women. It has nothing to do with his shortcomings. No, it’s my lesbian self that saved the fucking day. Although if he really knew the truth behind why I can’t go, that might shut him up too.

  Heading home in the cold really sucks. Getting in my front door and realizing it's already open, sucks even worse. I had a sneaking suspicion my day wouldn’t go as planned, but this just fucked it all up. My locks don’t really work well and Bart has tried to fix them a few times, I just don’t have the heart to tell him he doesn’t do his job very well. I reach around the corner for my baseball bat. Wooden. My father gave it to me because he always wanted a boy and I “will have to do.”

  I guess this bat will serve me well in my twenties, because it sure did fuck up a lot of things up in my teen years. I don’t even care about sneak attacks. If someone is in here they are going to know I have a bat and that I am one crazy little bitch. I turn on the light and jump at the sight of Jonathan sitting on my kitchen counter in a suit and tie.

  He broke in.

  This is a new level of crazy.

  He is gorgeous and I realize in that moment that I am not.

  “Fuck!” I yell. “You scared the shit out of me, what are you trying to do to me?” He stares at me.

  “Close the door Emily.” I do. I close the door because all of a sudden I realize why he is here. Sex. Or the photo, but mainly sex. And I am fine with that. More than fine.

  “So, I just have a couple of questions for you before we, you know, get started.”

  I take off my jacket. I am beanie-less today and my hair is actually cooperating. I put on black eyeliner earlier to make my blue eyes pop! And although I don’t have a mirror with me, I’m guessing I look smoking hot. Like a young Jennifer Connelly. It could however be going in the opposite direction for me, and I could be looking like Steven Tyler. Either way, he’s stuck with this. Jonathan gets off of the counter and goes around to the kitchen and starts looking through my drawers.

  “Um, what are you doing sir?” I ask sarcastically.

  “I’m looking for a bottle opener. I got us some wine.” I look on my counter and low and behold there is wine. Hmmm this night is going to be a little bit different. It’s now 12:30 am and this man wants to drink wine.

 
“Ok, wine, great!” I finish taking off my gloves and shoes. I realize I probably need a shower because I smell like gym, so I run into the bathroom. “I’ll be a second!” I yell as I run. I am doing one of those moves where my body is in motion and the clothes are flying off all over the floor. I turn on the shower and hop in. Shit! The water is cold. I scrub and two seconds later I’m hopping right back out. That’s what I like to call low maintenance.

  I open my shower curtain and find Jonathan sitting on the toilet with two glasses of wine. “You just make yourself right at home don’t you?” He hands me my glass. I take a sip. I am dripping wet. He takes a sip and stares at me. I roll my eyes at him.

  “What?” he asks in a high pitched tone. He follows me into the bedroom.

  “I am so confused.” I say as I set the wine down on my nightstand. I don’t even realize it but I am completely naked now searching around a drawer for my underwear. I become self- conscience.

  “You have a great body.” Jonathan says without missing a beat. I am in Batman panties, standing in front of a man in a thousand dollar suit. You couldn’t make this shit up!

  “Jonathan, what are you doing? Why did you have a picture of me?” I am now searching for a t-shirt, scrambling through my messy drawers. I pull out my Led Zeppelin t-shirt and throw it on. I have never been this fucking casual in my whole life. I must be tired. Jonathan approaches me and I can’t move. He reaches down for my hand.

  “Where is the picture, and why were you in my closet?” He says this gently and calmly and I want to answer him.

  I pull my hand away. “Wait a fucking second, I have some questions for you!” I start to pace. I stand up on my bed so that I am taller than him. He starts to laugh. “No I’m serious here!” I look down at myself and realize that only a moron would take me seriously.