Someone was knocking on my door. No one knocks on my door at nine o'clock at night. This was my first surprise of the evening. I live alone, and have just a few close friends, all of whom keep pretty similar hours to mine - up too damn early, bed early to compensate. My building manager is a very nice woman who'd never dream of interrupting anyone's evening unless it was an emergency, and I hadn't heard sirens. But, someone was knocking, so I opened the door. And got my second and third surprises all in one.
"Emily?!?" My voice was at least an octave higher on the last syllable than it had been on the first, I was that surprised at her appearance. And that, too, has a double meaning. The simpler of the two meanings is that I was shocked at her appearance at my door because Emily lives a little over three thousand miles away from me, and, on top of that, I had figured she'd written me off. She and I had carried on a pretty hot internet affair for a few months, but that had ended (with, at the time, relief for me) when my ISP shut down, cutting us off. At the time, Emily had been fun, but a complication I didn't need, and couldn't manage to get out of. Emily, on the other hand, had claimed she couldn't live without me, and that her life would be a meaningless void if we didn't spend at least 3 hours a night fucking via instant messaging. I hadn't really heard anything from her since the ISP shut down, so you can imagine my surprise at seeing her leaning against the wall in the corridor outside my apartment.
The other part of my surprise at her appearance was her appearance. Her long, dark hair framed her face, partially hiding it in shadow. Her eyes, however, snapped out of that shadow like two burning coals. Her lips were as full as I remembered. Emily has lips you immediately want applied to as much of your body as possible - full, soft, wet. Her hands were thrust into the pockets of a leather coat that extended about a third of the way down her thighs. It was pulled tight at the waist with a knotted belt. Below the coat was a brief glimpse of her legs sheathed in black stockings, and then the rest of her legs in a pair of very black, very shiny boots with very high, very pointed heels. The collar of her coat was turned up, further shadowing her face.
"No," she snapped, "Eva. Emily isn't here. She sent me."
"Eva" was an alter-ego Emily had dreamed up for our fantasies. She represented the purely erotic, somewhat depraved side of Emily. I'd created "Lee" as my alter-ego. Those two had some very hot exchanges since they were able to toss aside the inhibitions Emily and I had. This "Eva" leaning challengingly against the wall looked every inch the personification of hot slut that Emily had created. A hot slut with brains - the hottest kind. No qualms about dressing to fuck. In fact, totally into it, totally into the idea of dressing in a way that would turn a man's brain to guacamole, and his dick to iron. Just what she was looking for, really - a hard cock, a willing tongue, hers to command.
"I see," I replied. My head was, as you might imagine, in a bit of a spin.
"So," she said with a smirk, "Glad to see me?"
"Sure. Of course," I managed to say.
"Yeah, I can tell," she sneered.
"No, really, I am," I said, "You just took me totally by surprise. Of course I'm glad to see you. I always wondered what you were like in person."
"Well," she answered, "You're about to find out, then, aren't you? Are you going to invite me in?"
"Oh, gee, sorry - of course, come in."
She straightened up from her lean against the wall, and walked past me. She was wearing some sort of scent, and it did absolutely nothing for my clarity of mind. It did, on the other hand, do a lot for my cock. What was Emily/Eva doing here? Dressed like this? And, all things considered (insofar as I could consider anything at that point), did I care?
I closed the door, and followed the sound of her high heels into my living room. She stood, legs parted, hands still in her pockets, facing me.
"So, where's Lee?" she asked, "He and I need to have a little talk."
"Um, just a sec, and I'll get him," I answered, not sure just what was going on. I figured I'd step into my bedroom, and then come back claiming to be "Lee", and see what happened next.
"Tell him to make sure he's wearing white," Eva commanded.
I recalled from our exchanges that Emily favoured white underwear on men. She liked the notion that it made her seem like an older seductress leading a young boy into carnal sin.
"I will," I answered. In my bedroom I quickly peeled off my jeans and black underpants, hunted up a pair of white ones, yanked them on, and then my jeans, and returned to the living room. Eva was looking at my bookcases.
"You read a lot," she said.
"I do."
"No sex, though."
"Not really," I said.
"Too bad," she answered. "You think about it a lot, though, don't you?"
"I suppose I do," I replied.
"What do you like to think about, Lee? Do you think about wet pussies sliding over your hard dick? Or eager mouths with flicking tongues wrapped around it? Do you think about my hot cunt, Lee? Are you thinking about it now? Is that why the front of your jeans is bulging?"
"You always had that effect on me, Eva. And you still do."
"Show me," she said, "Show me how hard your dick is. Just like in those pictures you sent me. Show me how much you want me."
I wasn't lying about the effect Eva had on me. Somehow she could just erase everything but the thought of her - licking her, sucking her, fucking her, being sucked, fucked, and had by her - from my brain, and that was my state now. How had she gotten here? I didn't care. Why was she here? I didn't care. All I cared about was her standing in front of me right now, in thigh-high, spike-heeled boots and a leather coat, and who-knew-what underneath. And I wanted to find out. My brain was full of her dripping wet pussy, my tongue plunging deeply into it. So, I undid the button at the top of my jeans, and unzipped the front, and slid them down, leaving my underpants on for the moment.
"Mmmm, you remembered I like white - how sweet," she said wryly. "Take your shirt off, too."
When I was standing in front of her in only my underwear she slowly walked toward me.
"Want me to suck your cock?" she asked, standing only a hair's breadth from me.
"Oh, fuck, yes," I said, reaching for her. She slapped my hands away.
"Don't touch me," she said, angrily, "You abandoned us. You don't deserve to touch me. Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise."
Wondering where all this was going, I nevertheless did as she told me. She reached out, and ran a finger nail along the length of my hard dick, making it jump.
"Want me to jerk you off, Lee?" she asked, "Or maybe you'd like to jerk yourself off? Would you like that? Would you like to jerk yourself off for me?"
"Would you like me to?" I asked.
