Does Emmy (F25) want to get caught?

Emmy settled into the quiet room in the back of the library. The tree-lined street outside the third story window belied the fact she was in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world. She was almost always there alone, tucked into one of two comfortable stuffed chairs in the corners of the room. She favored it over Starbucks — it was quieter, filled with fewer aspiring writers, and came with none of the underlying Catholic guilt that caused her to get over-caffeinated or overstuffed (or both) with her hourly purchases of coffee and pastries.
She was surprised when he walked through the sliding door, tall and fit in the local uniform of black joggers and a black sweatshirt. “Morning. Mind if I sit in here?”
“Not at all.” He went to chair in the opposite corner. She expected him to go through the whole writer’s routine and take out a laptop, charger, phone charging cord, all the electronic accoutrements. Instead he pulled out a reusable water bottle (should’ve called that) and a yellowing paperback book.
“Do you actually like Jane Austen or are you trying to impress me?” He seemed caught off guard for a second but came back quickly.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” the snark softened by a sweet smile, “ever since I moved here a few months ago I’ve found myself at a surprising number of book launches. If I’m going to pretend to be a literary snob I think I should read all the books I just Sparknoted in high school. If you caught me here last week you would’ve seen me banging my head on the table as I slogged through Brothers Karamazov.
“Why on Earth would you put yourself through that?”
“I’m really glad you asked. I was at one of these events in Brooklyn. You know, trendy people who spent a ton of money to look like they didn’t try at all. Just the right amount of “no makeup” and shocking amount of unisex overalls. I’m sitting next to Jia Tolentino which is overwhelming enough. Then she’s kind enough to socialize and asks me what I think of the speaker’s short stories. I don’t know if she’s friends with the guy so I decide to go with ‘no comment’ disguised as an interesting take. So I say “he’s no Dostoyevsky but his stories are good.’ She did that thing where someone takes a couple seconds to see if you are fucking with them. When she saw the earnest look in my eyes she said, ‘I think you mean Chekov. Doesn’t seem fair to compare a rookie to Michael Jordan but at least shitty literary criticism is alive and well!’”
Emmy could barely contain the laughter at his cockiness and misfortune. “How’d you get yourself out of that one?”
I said, “I’m so dumb. I’m going home now. I promise I’ll never try to impress anyone again.”
“And here you are trying to impress me with Sense and Sensibility!”
“I am not! I learned my lesson! And fortunately Jia was gracious enough to chuckle at my ineptitude and ask me to stay.”
“Given your propensity to misrepresent famous authors, I have an idea for a little game we could play. You give me a quote and I’ll name the author. Then I’ll do the same for you. What do you think?”
“Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
“Incorrect. The answer was J.K. Rowling. Here you are losing the first round after all judgey confidence. Truly hate to see it.”
Emmy couldn’t believe he pulled that one out so quickly. “Fine you got me. My turns – ‘In another country they would have been criminals, but this was America.’”
“Are you going easy on me,” he asked with seeming sincerity, “giving me a Pulitzer Prize AND National Book Award Winner? Colton Whitehead.”
“Well, you gave me Harry Potter so I couldn’t go that hard on you. I had to see if you had anything beyond YA lit.”
“Ye of such little faith. Since I clearly believe more in you than you believe in me, I’m going to do a tough one. ‘Before curiosity kills it, the cat learns more of the world than a hundred uninquisitive dogs.’”
“Hm. Tom Robbins, Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates.”
“Yeah, despite scoring first, my confidence is pretty much shattered since you got that one. Should we just declare you the winner now and go on with our days?”
“Asking for mercy so early. That’s fair, I’ll give you some time to practice. Really think of some ones to stump me. That is, I guess, only if you decide to come back.”
“I can’t just leave you here with a monopoly on the perfect reading room. I’ll be back with reams of obscure quotes. Deep cuts from the Iliad and assorted long, horribly boring books.”
“Best of luck to you…”
“Jack.”
“Best of luck to you, Jack. I’m Emmy. And I don’t think you have much of a chance.”
——————————————————————————
Jack beat Emmy to the library the next week. He wasn’t really sure how to dress up to impress her, his sexy go-to being a suit that would look ridiculous in the setting. So he went with his best pair of jeans and best fitting and whitest white tee with white sneakers. He knew they were his best jeans because his roommates were actually nice to him.
She came in wearing Chucks and an oversized sweater, her high waisted short shorts the only clear signal that she put in a tad more effort than the usual trip to the library warranted. “I assume you’ve been studying,” she immediately asked.
“Good morning to you as well, Emmy.”
“Good morning, Jack.”
“I’m a little worried about competing with you, honestly. I read so much random shit this weekend and every quote I found made me think “this is so obviously from X author” that I’m really not sure I can stump you.”
“So you were thinking about me all weekend?”
“Obviously.”
“Loving that beach front real estate in your head.”
“You might want to hold the sass until you actually prove you’re that much better than me, lady.”
“Sass? You going to call me a mouthy broad next?”
“If the situation calls for it!”
“So you’re ready to kick this off then?”
“Sure am!”
“No stakes at all, just straight competition?”
“I almost never take a bet, I tend to lose to people who know they’re going to win.”
“What if I suck your cock if you win?”
“Wait, what?”
“Your cock. Blowjob.”
“I, um, I, uh”
“I’m just messing with you. And I should probably save you before you say something you might regret until the end of your days. Loser has to take the winner out on a date. Blowjob not guaranteed.”
“Well then. Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.”
“Emily Dickinson. That was you starting, right?”
“Indeed.”
“I’m off to an early lead then.You ready?”
“Let’s go.”
“The times do, in fact, change. They change relentlessly. Inevitably. Inventively.”
“Oh thank goodness, I know that one. Amor Towles, ‘Gentleman in Moscow’.”
“Congrats, Jack, score even at one. Hit me.”
“Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.”
“A burgeoning feminist, are we? Is that Steinham?”
“It’s Madeline Miller in ‘Circe’.”
“Do I lost a point or do I just not get one?”
“I figured it was like ‘Whose Line is it Anyway’ .”
‘Huh?”
“The rules are made up and the points don’t matter.”
“Well then how will we know who is going to pay for the date?”
“Well I could be chivalrous and pay the entire thing either way. Or we can go for the whole equality thing and split it down the middle.”
“I don’t want you to pay because you’re chivalrous, Jack. I want you to pay because I beat you. So let’s just say I don’t lose a point but I don’t get one.”
“Deal.”
Emmy took a quick pause to peel off her sweater, leaving her in a longline crop top and those high-waisted short shorts.
“Warm in here, isn’t it?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Jack said, “and I won’t be distracted. I’m here to win, not check out the cute girl in the library.”
“Why not both? Also, cute?”
“We just met, I didn’t want to overstep.”
“It would be really hard for you to overstep.”
“Okay, fine. I’m here to win, not check out the smokeshow in the library.”
“That one is borderline but I accept. Much better than ‘cute’. Here’s the quote – ‘Before curiosity kills it, the cat learns more of the world than a hundred uninquisitive dogs.”
Jack thought hard for a minute before coming up empty.
“Tom Robbins in ‘Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates’. We’re stuck at 1-1. Hit me.”
“In another country, they would have been criminals, but this was America.”
“Oh Jack, you gotta do better than giving me a quote from Pulitzer Prize AND National Book Award Winner Colton Whitehead. And with that, I take the lead. Here you go – ‘“When you are a woman, the things you like get used against you. Or, alternatively, the things that get used against you have all been prefigured as things you should like.'”
“I could see why you thought you could trip me up with Jia Tolentino but I read ‘Trick Mirror’ cover-to-cover after my little mix-up with her. So that ties us up. One more, for all the marbles?”
“Who uses that phrase anymore?”
“Me and my great Uncle Pete. Stop stalling.”
“By all means then, hit me.”
“There are all kinds of soul mates, all kinds of bonds I’ve shared that seem like more than the products of chance.”
Emmy smiled. “You wanted me to win didn’t you?”
“I definitely didn’t. And if this is your way of making me think you won without you actually telling me the author, you’re not going to trick me.”
“Trust is the foundation of all successful relationships but hey, I guess I still have to earn it. The answer is Lauren Wilkinson from ‘American Spy’.”
“So where am I taking you?”
“Doesn’t matter as long as it’s extremely expensive.”
“Just my luck, meeting a debutante in a public library.”
Emmy laughed, “we’ve always been the best patrons of the arts.”
——————————————————————————
It was their first wedding together, four months after their first date ended with just a kiss. A great one, but still just a kiss. Emmy surprised him by being early to the library that next Saturday, wearing her best “smokeshow” outfit, a wrap dress with heels. She was reading “She Comes First” and very quickly manifested it into real life. He wouldn’t come until their third date. She wasn’t generally a tease but she knew he loved it.
Gabby and Tom picked an amazing venue, a lodge overlooking the green mountains. The weather was gorgeous, mid-70s and sunny, perfect for the Emmy’s favorite dress, a yellow number with a slit nearly to her hip. She immediately shrugged off the sweater she brought, revealing her perfect back.
“I love her dress,” Emmy said.
“I do too.”
“I’m sure you do, and let me guess, it has nothing to do with how amazing her tits look,” Emmy laughed.
“I feel like tits is a bit crass for a bride on her wedding day, no?”
“Sure, Jack. I’m sure it has nothing to do with how great her bosom looks.”
“That’s better.”
“Tom looks as good as he did at their going-away party. Still fit, still tan.”
“I love when hot people get married.”
“How romantic.”
She ran her hand up his leg. He wasn’t surprised that she loved weddings and he knew she loved thinking about hot people having sex. They’d role played some group sex but hadn’t ever done it.
Emmy teared up just a little bit during the vows, not enough to ruin her mascara. She leaned to whsiper in Jack’s ear.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Taken aback, Jack, in all seriousness responded with “but we haven’t even had champagne yet.”
“I don’t want to wait. I want to fuck you while I still have these heels on, you know these give me the perfect amount of height. If we don’t do it soon I’ll be in my Converse.”
Not one to let an opportunity pass him by, Jack nodded his head and took her hand as she guided him down the hallway. Emmy smoothly told a waiter she was looking for the bathroom when he asked where they were heading. They were around the corner before the waiter could even tell them they were going the wrong way.
Emmy tested a few doors before she found one that was unlocked, a small supply room stocked with extra chairs used for the outdoor ceremony.
“This is perfect,” she said with a smile on her face. She stood on her toes even though she was in her heels. Instead of kissing him she moved to bite on his ear lobe. He groaned. Before he could kiss her, she grabbed a chair and sat in it.
Jack got down on his knees in front of her and ran his hand up her calf, inside her thigh, into the smallest strip of fabric covering her pussy. He pulled her panties away and pushed her dress up in one smooth motion. He kissed all around her without brushing her labia or meeting her clit. He teased her like that for twenty seconds, then a minute. Her hips her gyrating, unconsciously desperate for him to just fucking do it already. He surprised her by sticking his tongue inside of her, fucking her with it.
“I really needed to taste you.”
She responded by grabbing a fistful of his hair.
He licked up the length of her labia a few times before finally sucking her clit into his mouth. She tightened her grip and pulled his face away.
“You better go lock the door.”
He got up and walked over but the lock didn’t work. He grabbed a chair and put it under the doorknob. When he turned around, Emmy had two fingers inside of her and was working her clit with her palm.
“I didn’t tell you to do that.”
“I wouldn’t have listened even if you had.”
Once Jack’s fingers replaced hers, she worked the straps of her dress of her shoulder and pulled our her amazing, braless tits.
“Do my tits look better than the brides?”
“Of course they do,” he said, mouth hovering right above her clit.
“You’re not even looking. And don’t lie to me.”
He looked up. “I’m not lying!”
“So you wouldn’t want to play with her nipples like this?” She twisted and pulled at both her nipples.
“Of course I would, who wouldn’t?”
“Right answer. Get back to it.”
He felt her getting closer. He shifted from his gentle, slow “come hither” motion to fucking her quickly with two fingers. She nodded, about to come.
He bit her hip quickly before sitting back and watching the orgasm rip through her, making her whole body shake.
Emmy took a second to recover, her exposed chest heaving with each breath. She stood up, pulling him up with her. She unbuckled his pants and pushed them down, briefs an all, as she kissed him. “Sit.”
He did as instructed. She turned around, facing towards the door and giving him a chance to appreacite her ass. She lowered herself slowly, grabbing his cock in between her legs. She put the tip in before sliding down in one smooth motion. He loved when she was that wet.
Emmy began rocking back and forth. Then she stopped suddenly.
“Is everything okay, love?”
“Yeah, I just remembered I have these heels on for a reason.”
She got up and walked over to the door. It was like she wanted to get caught, wanted to have someone hear them.
She pressed her hands flat against the door and looked back at Jack. She was right, her pussy was at the perfect level to take his cock. He slipped in quickly and she matched every stroke.
When he told her he was about to come she told him to finish inside her. Just hearing her say it sent him over the edge. He felt her tighten around his cock as multiple shots filled her up. Emmy leaned against the wall with her forearm to catch her breath.
They cleaned themselves up the best they could and got re-dressed, no worse for the wear besides a few extra wrinkles.
When they moved the chair and stepped out the door they came face to face with the bride and groom. They stood up straight, trying to look presentable, but it couldn’t have been more obvious that they just fucked.
Gabby asked if they were enjoying the wedding.
“Yes! It’s wonderful!” Jack responded.
Gabby then leaned in to hug Emmy and whsipered in her ear before walking away.
“What’d she say?”
“Maybe next time we can join you.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/qvik96/does_emmy_f25_want_to_get_caught