Couples Erotica, Romantic Erotica

The Belle of the Ball Makes a Booty Call

After an evening gala, Emma knocks on Noah’s door

“Hi, Noah; sorry to call so late,” I heard you say as I held the phone to my ear, surprised but thrilled.

“No, problem. I was up, reading. What’s going on?” I asked.

It wasn’t a lie. Even though it was nearly midnight, I was wide awake, lying in bed reading a nonfiction historical account of the Mongol conquests. And while the text was enlightening, a call from Emma at any time was invigorating!

“I see that you liked my Instagram post of me at the gala tonight,” Emma said with a light chuckle, confirming what I already knew; she liked that I liked her post.

“Sure did,” I replied, trying to keep my voice casual despite my excitement. “You look amazing in blue.”

“Thank you.” I could hear the smile on her face in the answer.

“So, is everything okay?” I asked while smirking at my favorite of Emma’s traits. She was always good at appreciating compliments and knew how to accept them.

“The kids are with their dad for the weekend — and I — “ The pause in an answer was another trait I’d become accustomed to, one that never failed to make me smile.

You stifled a laugh, and I could see you pacing and biting down on a finger between your cherry blossom lips. You always liked to keep your cards close to your chest, but when your voice delivered the following words, they carried a quiver.

“It’s okay, Emma. Just tell me, whatever it is, it’s fine. I promise.” I offered back, hoping my words carried enough trust.

“I don’t want to go home. I want to come over.” Your words came quickly but excited.

I could feel it; you’d had a drink or two, and the last one had sweetened your appetite. You wanted another taste, something you knew would quench your thirst without the foggy regret of a sugary drink that only tickled your tongue and left a hangover.

I was your nightcap, and you knew I was always ready to fill your cup.

I swallowed the exhale of joy ballooning from my lungs and answered. “Don’t stop anywhere. Come straight here.”

“Okay,” you answered, and there it was, that slight jump in your voice telling me your blue eyes were sparking with minuscule fireworks of gold and green.

I’ve seen the Northern Lights in the clear arctic skies and quartz shimmering beneath crystal clear mountain streams, but they were forgettable compared to her playful, effervescent gaze. That was a look that could power the sun.

“See you soon, then,” you chirped, ending the call.

Time to think was time enough to sink, and if I was going to go down tonight, it wasn’t going to be with the ship.

Thankfully, because I cared enough to care, my home was tidy. I didn’t need to rush around, throw dirty clothes in a closet, pile dirty dishes into a box, and throw it in the garage like those hapless fools in rom-coms. I was actually a fully-functional adult male.

But I did start the shower because fresh is always best.

After dressing in a navy-blue, long-sleeve, crewneck sweater, I went to the kitchen, took down a pair of tumblers, and mixed two El Diablo’s. Emma was a sweet woman, but I knew she liked a little bite with a kiss, and tequila was her sting of choice.

Even as decided as she sounded over the phone, I was expecting a touch of nerves once she came through the door. The cocktail was much like her; fancy without trying too hard, sweet and spicy. Made with black currant syrup, lime juice, and a splash of ginger beer, this little devil would help her leave the good girl outside.

Although I didn’t see her often, and not nearly enough for my liking, I could never get used to her beauty. I would have conversation topics planned, funny anecdotes on the ready, and charming compliments waiting for an opening, but when she glanced at me with her keen, blue eyes paired with her irresistible smile, my mind would go blank. And at that moment, I stood as though lost to the wonder of winter snowfall, mesmerized by weightless flakes falling gracefully against a shimmering crystal curtain blue sky. Emma was as graceful and intimidating as the perfection of nature itself.

I had been quietly obsessed with her for decades and pleased through to my soul whenever I caught her light.

I saw the beam of headlights from her car splash across the spruce trees lining my driveway and smiled at the delay of hearing the car door close and her footfalls on the paved pathway.

There were no games at play, and I wasn’t going to have her knocking on my door, waiting for me to let her in; I had been waiting for less than an hour, and it was two lifetimes too long.

The soundtrack to her entrance was the fun, sexy track Maria También from the indie rock band Khruangbin.

Stepping inside, Emma instantly fell into the role presented by the beat. Dashing her eyes left and right as though she were the jewel thief looking for her sly escape in a James Bond film, she slipped an elegant bare arm around my elbow, allowing me to escort her to my living.

In a smooth sequence, I took her jacket and purse with one hand, laid them over the corner of a chair, and swung back around with the cocktail in the other.

Leaning against the back of the couch, she accepted the drink with her ring and middle fingers sliding over my pinky; the momentary embrace delivered velvet electricity running up my arm.

“Did you shower just for me?” she asked, peering over the rim of the glass while swirling the elixir beneath her pert nose.

“Did you decide to look like a million dollars just for me?” I responded. Freshwater pearl earrings matched with a luminescent pearl necklace sat above a sleeveless azure blouse. Her ginger-gold hair dangled in ribbons over her toned shoulders.

“If you’re going to look at me like that,” she said with a coy smirk, “You’d better kiss me.”

Slipping my arm behind her, I rested a hand on the small of her back and pulled her toward me. I leaned into her softly, closing my lips over hers.

Reciprocating with an open mouth, we kissed gently. The afterglow of her gala evening and feeling every bit as beautiful as she looked, Emma gave a tender moan and a satisfied sigh. The slow blink of her eyelids revealed the appreciation of being desired by a man she knew held her above all others before and any women that may appear later.

Breaking the kiss, I pulled back to drink in the vision of Aphrodite.

“How’s the drink?” I asked.

Dancing her eyes over me, she raised the glass to her lips and pulled a long sip. “Mmm, you always know just how I like it.”

Setting my drink on the side table, I stroked my fingers up her bare arms, my hands meeting behind her neck; I bent down and kissed her shoulder, along her collarbone, then along the side of her neck.

Untying the thin strands of cloth on her top, I let her blouse fall forward and eased it over her petite breasts. My thick fingers brushed her silky skin, skipping over her erect cotton candy pink nipples.

She reached up, curling her dainty fingers around my neck, and pulled me to her mouth for another kiss; hungrier this time, I tasted the tequila on her tongue as our mouths mingled and my hands cupped her small but spectacular tits.

Curling her bottom lip beneath her front teeth, she smiled. “You’ve always loved my little ladies. You don’t wish there was more to hold?”

“Large breasts can fill a man’s hands for a moment, but small breasts fill a man’s heart for a lifetime. They’re beautiful and perfect, and I’ve never imagined you any other way than you are — stunningly beautiful.”

She giggled, placed a hand in the center of my chest, and pushed me back. “You don’t have to keep charming me,” she said, stepping away from the couch and taking her drink toward the hall leading to my bedroom. Then, flipping her hair, she turned and looked back over her shoulder at me, “I’m a safe bet.”

With the subtle magic movements only a woman possessed, Emma unbuttoned her wide-leg dress pants, the high waist inching its way down her slender hips with each step.

“Are you coming?” she asked, taking another glance at me still stationed at the couch.

“I’m going to watch for another moment,” I replied. “You know the way.”

Having reached the doorway to the bedroom, Emma placed a hand on the doorframe while the other held her drink. With a shimmy and a wiggle, she shook the pants off her hips, letting them fall along her long, shapely legs until they piled around her ankles.

Raising her right foot from the floor, she kicked the pant leg loose, switched her hands between the doorframe and the drink, and did the same with the other.

I drained the cocktail, set the empty tumbler back on the table, and moved toward her wearing a grin to make the devil jealous. Her delightful ass, framed by a nearly-not-there ribbon of taupe lace over her hips and disappearing between her cheeks, ought to be painted and hung in the Louvre; it was a masterpiece.

Emma placed her drink in the bedroom on top of the dresser, then pulled the pretty blue blouse over her head. Tying the straps into a loop, she hung the shirt on a knob of a dresser drawer and walked back to greet me in the center of my room.

Without a word, she grabbed the bottom of my sweater, pulled it up and over my head, then dropped it to the floor, moved her hands to my pants, and slipped them off my hips.

“Oh my,” she said, seeing that I was going commando, “how thoughtful of you to save a step.” Delicately wrapping her hand around my thickening shaft, she pressed my cock against her panties and sighed as my hands cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her against me.

The softness of her skin pressed into my body stiffened my manhood as she rolled her pelvis into me. The thin cloth barrier between her sex and mine did nothing to hold back the heat and pulse.

Lifting her off the floor, my hands cradled her ass as she cinched her legs across my back. Tossing her hair, she flung her locks over my face and then searched for my mouth with hungry kisses across my cheeks and chin.

Walking to the bed, I bent over and unfurled her body from mine, laying her atop the pillow comforter.

“You’ve still got something on,” I said as I kissed across her breasts and down her tummy.

Running my hands along her long legs, I placed her ankles on my shoulders and raised her ass off the bed. Hooking my fingers beneath the lace, I slipped her panties off, ducked under her legs, and then slid them down to her ankles, held in the strappy heels on her feet.

After tossing her panties over my shoulder, I held her feet in my hands and placed kisses across the tips of her perfectly painted toes. “But these,” I said, a finger tapping her heels. “These stay on.”

Rolling her head to the side, her face half hidden beneath her ginger hair, she smiled. “Yessir.”

Emma swam backward along the bed as I crawled up and straddled her body with my hands beside each shoulder. Her stomach fluttered as I kissed my way down to her impeccably groomed pussy. A rectangular patch of blonde hair, short, straight, and soft like an artist’s paintbrush, tickled my lips until I slipped beneath to her bare, beautiful labia.

If sugar came from rain, that’s how she tasted. Droplets of honey-sweet nectar on my tongue, her flower beaded with dew. Emma’s very essence was feminine, a wildness behind a veil of grace and I drank her in. How long it had been since she’d last given herself to a man, I didn’t know, but I could feel the flood held behind the dam, and I was intent on drowning before I dove in for a swim.

After having my head clenched between her ankles and her fingers clawing over my shoulders and down my arms, she rewarded me with the first wave. In the throes of her panting and moaning, Emma rolled me onto my back and climbed on top. Sliding herself over me, she rocked, pressed, and ground her pussy on my cock, throwing herself down and back horizontally while cradling my head and pulling my mouth to her perfect tits that I swallowed whole.

This wasn’t about me. It wasn’t my turn to show off my moves, display strength, or assert a dominant role. I was here for her. Her kisses became harder, her tongue diving deep, twisting and turning with mine before she sunk her teeth into my bottom lip, clamped and pulling hard. She sucked my mouth as she rode my cock to her pleasure.

I felt like her sex toy, an object of skin and bone for her to use, and I was overjoyed for it. Gripping my jaw in her hand displayed her fierceness, and her steel-blue eyes burned holes through my body as she began fucking me hard. Thrashing, gliding, grinding, and smashing herself onto me.

Finally, she hit her wall and broke through. Clamping her knees hard against my hips, she locked herself in place, and with a fiery blaze in her lustful expression, she told me what she wanted.

“Fuck me, Noah. Fuck me hard, baby. Fuck the shit of me. Don’t be nice now. Give me everything you have; I want all of you.”

Sweat trickled from my forehead into my eyes, blurring my vision as I thrust with all I had, but I didn’t need to see what I was doing. I could taste, feel and hear everything. Curling my arms over her back, my hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her into me as I hammered inside her.

We smashed into each other in a frenzy of panting, whimpering, and moaning. The waves of our passion crashed into each other like the wild surf thundering into rocks.

Shaking and quivering, I held Emma in my arms, cradling her as I slowed. Stroking my fingers up and down her back, we let the storm fall into the rhythm of the tides. Rocking gently into one another and easing into the calm after the storm.

“I knew this is where I wanted to come tonight,” she told me between tender kisses across my face. “I knew you’d be here for me.”

“I’ve always been and always will be Emma. However you want me, I’m yours.”

The robust aroma of the French roast coffee filled the house with a welcoming scent. Carrying a set of mugs back to the bedroom, I entered silently and placed a mug for Emma on the bedside table.

The woman lay in a twist of sheets and a storm of wild, messy hair. Her bare feet peeked out from under the comforter, one foot half dangling off the bed, the other hooked over it to keep it from falling to the floor.

The sun beamed into the room like a God shining a light on His divine creation, and I sat in the corner chair, knowing without a doubt that an angel was lying asleep in my bed.

For more of Emma and Noah.

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