Free The Envelope Incident by Emelia Elmwood Page B

muster:
    I want to be tied up, blindfolded and fucked by men I don’t know and will never see.
    My heart raced so hard I could feel the pulse in my throat. With a shaky hand, I reached for a second piece of paper from the pad.
    I want to taste pussy.
    I couldn’t believe I wrote that. I was so hot and so wet just thinking about it. I reached for a third piece of paper and thought about what my very last sexual fantasy might be.
    I want two men at once. I want to ride a big cock while another cock is riding my ass.
    I threw the pen on the table and jumped out of the chair. Tears of embarrassment streamed down my face, but I was so hot, so turned on, that I lay down on my living room floor and fingered myself into three orgasms before I was calm enough to sleep.
     
    I slipped the envelope under Jake and Derek’s door, hoping no one saw me do it. During the entire six-mile drive to work, which took a solid forty-three minutes in Los Angeles traffic, emotions tumbled around in my head. I couldn’t believe I had actually written down three fantasies. I couldn’t believe I’d shared them with Jake and Derek. God, what were they going to think when they saw them? What were they going to do? What would my landlord think when a bunch of random people started visiting my apartment, and the oh-so-obvious sounds of wild sex could be heard through the walls?
    I almost rear-ended the car in front of me twice.
    And yet I was so, so very wet.
    After work, I all but tiptoed back to my apartment. I just couldn’t face Jake and Derek after what I was beginning to think of as The Envelope Incident. Relieved to go undetected, I locked the apartment’s deadbolt and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. My cell phone chimed its three-tone notice of a new text message. It was from Derek.

    Biltmore downtown. 8 p.m. tonite. Rm 436.
    Holy shit. That was only two hours from now.
    Jake and Derek knew me well enough to know that I would look for a chicken exit if they gave me time to find one. They weren’t going to give me much of a chance to back out.
    I showered and headed for the Biltmore.
     
    I found the elevator and pressed Four. I stepped into the hallway and followed the arrows to 436. I stood in front of the door for what seemed like forever. I thought about walking away. I thought about running away. But then I thought about how one of my very own fantasies was supposed to be on the other side of that door. The hallway was empty. Who would know that I had been here? Who would know about this indulgence?
    My inner tigress knocked on the door.
    A tall, elegant woman with blue eyes and dark hair swept up into a knot answered the door. “I’m Evie,” she said. “I’m here to help you get ready.”
    The room was actually a posh suite. We stood in the foyer, which lead to a large living room. Across the room were French doors, presumably leading to the bedroom.
    Evie took my hand and lead me to the guest bathroom. She helped me undress and then gave me a lacy black robe to wear. I looked at myself in the mirror, my dark blond hair, my gray eyes, my pretty decent country-girl figure that was a little curvier and rounded than was preferred in Los Angeles. I felt self conscious and insecure.
    Evie ran her eyes over what she could see through the robe. I felt a flash of heat as the approval registered on her face. “Jake was right,” she said. “Nate and Alex will love you.”
    She led me across the living room and opened one of the French doors to the bedroom. Two incredibly hot men were inside—one sitting on the giant California-King-size bed, the other sitting in an armchair. Both men wore black robes. The men stood as I entered the room.
    “This is Emma,” Evie said. She untied the sash of my robe and, stepping behind me, pulled it off. “She’s all yours.” Evie let the robe pool on the floor before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her.
    I stood there, naked and somewhat in shock, unsure of what to