Stripped (14 page)

“I do,” Emily said.  “I want to feel it... inside me...”

“In time,” was the response.

Gunnar lifted himself from her.  Emily’s eyes were stuck upon his erection.  At her breasts he paused, taking himself with one hand.  He touched the tip of his thickness to her left nipple, flicking her nipple with his cock.  The sensation made Emily whimper.  She tried to move her chest in any way possible, wanting to both please Gunnar, and seek relief for herself. 

“No, no,” Gunnar said with a wicked grin.

He cupped Emily’s breast with his free hand and started to draw circles around her nipples.  It started slow but as Emily reacted - her desperate breaths turned into soft, desperate cries - Gunnar started to move faster and faster, rubbing the soft bottom of his tip. 

Emily watched Gunnar come to life some more, his face and eyes becoming animal like, his body stiffening more. 

When he finally moved, Emily’s nipple was super erect and slightly moist from Gunnar’s erection leaking on her. 

Next he moved to her mouth.  His hands clamped the top of the headboard, and his cock dangled over her face.  Emily’s eyes were wide, her mouth already open, knowing what he wanted.  She knew what she wanted to do but wasn’t sure if it would work.

“Taste me, Emily,” Gunnar said.  “Right now.  Taste me.”

Emily stuck her tongue out, sampling the bottom of Gunnar.  Her tongue shook with fury and desire.  She licked along his shaft, running over his throbbing veins.  At the head of his erection, she swirled her tongue, trying to get up and around Gunnar.  She couldn’t.  Her tongue couldn’t reach and he was too thick.  If she had her hands free...

“Keep trying,” Gunnar said.

Emily moved her tongue again and again, finally stretching her tongue and neck hard enough that she could lick the top and bottom of Gunnar’s tip.  When she tried to get her lips around him, he slowly pulled away, teasing Emily.

“You’re going to taste me,” Gunnar said.  “And swallow me.”

“Yes,” Emily.  “Please... yes...”

She opened her mouth wide and waited.

Gunnar gripped the root of his cock again and positioned himself to Emily’s open mouth.  Gently he slid forward, allowing the tip of his sex to move inside Emily’s mouth.  Her lips were thin but tight.  Her tongue, eager, pressing up, moving left to right. 

Gunnar smiled and pressed hard.  He battled against Emily’s tongue, sliding halfway into her before stopping.  His hand moved back to the headboard and he slowly started to pull from Emily’s mouth.  She moaned, not wanting him to, and just when she thought Gunnar was going to pull out, he thrust back into her mouth. 

Deeper than ever.

Emily moaned louder as her eyes closed, trying to relax her mouth for him to enjoy.  Gunnar repeated the same motion, slow but penetrating thrusts, forcing himself inch by inch into Emily’s mouth until he tested her deep enough that she couldn’t breath.  All she could do was trust Gunnar, hoping he would know when to pull away. 

He did, at the perfect time.

He removed his erection fully from her mouth, allowing Emily to gasp for air, catch her breath, and prepare for more of Gunnar.

There was no conversation needed.  Gunnar came back down, using his hand for a second, just to guide himself back into her mouth.  Now he began thrusting, setting the pace that Emily would have to get used to.  She started to move her head, wanting Gunnar deeper, wanting him faster.  It wasn’t just the taste of Gunnar or how long he was or how thick he was... it was the ending result.  The command to swallow him.  Tonight Emily would leave with a part of Gunnar.

She moaned thinking about it and Gunnar started to speed up.

“Yes,” Gunnar growled.  “Emily... yes...”

The speed increased.  Gunnar reached down and ran his fingers through her hair.  Emily continued to move, trying to match his speed and movement. 

Emily’s breaths were few and far between, each one ending with a groan.  She wanted to taste him, she needed to taste him.

“Oh, Emily,” Gunnar said.  “Your innocence... is almost gone.”

Emily opened her mouth and let out a cry. 

“Tighter,” Gunnar growled.  “Now.”

Emily’s mouth shut.  As tight she could make it.  She felt the intense feeling of Gunnar’s rod-like shaft forcing its way along her lips.  Back and forth.  In and out.  The pumps becoming harder.  The thrusts wild.  His body tense.  Gunnar looked down and Emily smiled.

It was time.

With one last thrust, deep into her mouth, Gunnar began to climax.  The rush moved through his shaft and into Emily’s throat. 

She tasted the sudden warmth and moaned in delight.  Gunnar pulsed over and over, depositing more and more into her mouth.  Slowly, he slid his cock from her mouth, putting a hand to the base of his shaft.  One more pulse offered a little mess on Emily’s lips for her to lick up and then he placed himself to her breasts again, finishing with a small collection of his milky orgasm on her right nipple. 

Emily whispered Gunnar’s name.

“You’re not so innocent anymore,” Gunnar said.  “You need a different name.”

“I need a what?”

“You can’t be Emily anymore,” Gunnar said.  He slowly moved from the bed, finding his pants.  Everything was so casual and yet sexy.  The way he moved, talked, the way his body reacted to everything.  “Emily is a name of innocence.  You’re obviously not innocent anymore.  So I’m going to call you...”

Gunnar stopped and slowly walked around the bed.  His fingers touched Emily’s body any way he could.  His fingertips grazing along her toes, her ankles, her legs. Her thighs, stomach, wrists, and arms.  Her shoulders, her face, and her hair.

Everything.

Gunnar became everything in that moment. 

Then he stopped, at the foot of the bed, putting his hands to the chains of the cuffs holding Emily’s feet in place.

He said one word to her. 

“Ex.”

“Ex?”

“That’s what I’m calling you.  Emily is gone.  You’re now Ex.”

Ex.

Emily smiled.  She liked it. 

She thought of Ann.  She couldn’t wait to tell Ann.  Now that Ann was Annie Crossfire. 

Speaking of which...

“Why don’t you like interviews?” Emily asked.

Gunnar’s eyes were intense.  “All people need to know about me they can find through my music.”

“I have a friend... her career could be based on talking to you.  Even for a minute...”

“Is that what this all is then?” Gunnar asked.

He pushed on the handcuff chains and Emily cried at the pain.

“No!” she cried.  “No.  Never.  You told me to come back tonight.”

“And you brought someone to interview me?”

“No.  She came... I came...”

“You were outside the dressing room before the show.”

“Yes.  Ann needed me...”

“What is there to know?  Tell me?  What do you want to know?”

“I’m happy, like this,” Emily said.  She smiled but Gunnar wasn’t buying it.  “I meant nothing by asking you... Ann had a nickname too...”

“Ex is not a nickname,” Gunnar said.  “It’s you, now.”  He put his head back and took a deep breath.  When he looked at Emily again, something had changed.  He didn’t look like the same Gunnar.

His blue eyes were still beautiful but they were different.

“I’m sorry, Gunnar...”

“No.  Sorry and sorrow are weakness.  A deafening weakness.  Sorry is an excuse for something planned.”

Gunnar released his hold on the cuffs at Emily’s feet.  He backed away from the bed, stuck between shock and anger.  Emily didn’t understand it and she was too afraid to ask.  Gunnar walked to the far wall and moved the blanket attached to it.  There, taped to the wall, was a small key.

The key to the handcuffs.

He took the key from the wall and brought it to Emily’s hands.  With two twists of the key, Emily’s hands were free.  He then put the key into one of Emily’s hands and looked at her.

“Gunnar, I came here for you,” she said.

“I hope your friend isn’t too pissed,” he said.  He swallowed with his lip curled and then spun, leaving the room. 

The door shut with a horrible thud and Emily started to scramble, trying to sit up and reach the cuffs at her ankles.  The next thing she heard was the sound of glass shattering.  It was the sound of a tornado rocking through the dressing room.  The sounds of shattering gave way to smashes and thuds.

Emily finally unlocked herself.  She moved from the bed, found her clothes, and hurried to dress.  She needed to get Gunnar to calm down.  She needed him to listen. 

Guilt poured through her body.

Why the hell did she say something about Ann?

Why?

Emily opened the door to leave the private room and found the dressing room in shambles.  All the bottles of whiskey and beer were in shattered pieces on the floor, their liquid pooling and absorbing where it could.  The couches were flipped to their backs and the table that once rested in the middle of the floor was broken in half near the counter. 

“Gunnar,” Emily said as the beautiful lead singer stood at the double doors.

He looked over his shoulder, staring at Emily in a way she knew.  The eyes that stuck to her curves.  The eyes that judged her.  The eyes that... maybe hated her.

“Go home,” Gunnar said.  “If you need a ride, someone will give it to you.  If not, just go home.”

He opened the door and left.

Emily stood in the mess around her and looked at it, realizing the broken bottles and furniture weren’t the only mess.  She was a mess.  And obviously so was Gunnar.

If he went off the handle that quick over an interview, how far would he go?  What would trigger him? 

Emily... thinking of Gunnar naming her Ex... she wasn’t sure if she wanted it.  Gunnar had taken her innocence, opened her eyes in a sexual way no man had ever done.  He’d given her an experience.  He’d given her a nickname.  He’d given her something she could have forever.

And that was the easiest way to end the night.

Leaving forever as a memory.

12.

The next three hours were terrible. 

Emily had never seen a club after hours before.  The stage was dark, the floor empty, a small gathering at the bar made up mostly of people and the crew traveling with the bands that played that night.  One thing was for certain, Ann was nowhere to be found. 

Wherever Emily walked, if there stood security, they would let her go.  Any door.  Any room.  Any hall.  It was like having an invisible backstage pass, one signed and stamped by Gunnar from Down Silent giving Emily the freedom to walk and the freedom to explore her sexuality.  That part Gunnar led, and did so very well.

By the time Emily found the backdoor to the club, her hands were shaking, and she left.  She had to leave.  Everywhere she looked she thought of Gunnar.  The walls now housed the memories of what they had done, two nights in a row.  The stairwell behind the stage, where Emily’s orgasmic whimpers seeped their way into the concrete.  The dressing room closet, converted into a room for sex.  She could still hear the metal sound of the handcuffs rubbing against the bedposts.