Emily 2:
Deon's Disgusting Date
by Mecca
Deon was kneeling in the quad, tying his shoelaces, when he felt a warm, heavy weight press upon his back. He steadied himself with one hand. Somebody was fucking with him.
“The fuck-” he started, looking up to see Emily, the girl he’d been seeing for the last couple of weeks. That “weight” was her soft bottom, a bottom he hoped to see someday. He smiled and continued tying his laces.
“Heya, Deon,” said Emily before busting a huge fart, then standing up.
Deon’s jaw dropped as he felt the vibrations. “Did you just... fart on my back?”
“Who, me?” Emily winked an eye and stuck her tongue out. “So, where are we going tonight?”
Deon was unsure how to proceed. The girl he was dating and was considering making his girlfriend had just literally passed gas directly on him. Firstly, girls don’t fart. Secondly, the disrespect was palpable. And this chick wanted to know where he was going to take her on her date? He arched an eyebrow.
But she was fine as hell. He was looking forward to seeing that little pooter. And maybe eating it out. Definitely not now, but after a thorough washing. He began breathing through his mouth to avoid smelling her stink.
“Uh, so I was thinking dinner and a movie,” Deon said, standing back up. “There’s a Thai spot near the theater.”
“I love Thai!” exclaimed Emily, seemingly completely oblivious to what she had done.
“And we talked about seeing Danger Dude 3.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“So… will you be free at 7?”
“Of course!” smiled Emily. “I just have an English paper I have to complete tonight. But I’m almost done.”
“It’s a date, then!”
Regardless of her weird behavior, Deon was excited.
***
Emily was late.
He sat in the restaurant, wondering if he had been ghosted. Maybe she got back with her ex, Sal. He knew she had a long history with that guy, but it just didn’t work out for some reason. If Emily was just late, then she was incredibly rude. No text, no call? She was disrespecting him once again. But it made sense. She was hot and funny. So she had no accountability for her actions, of course. No one had ever held her accountable, so how could she learn to be responsible and think of others?
Emily eventually showed up. “I am so, so sorry,” apologized Emily, speed walking to the table. “I lost track of time.”
“That’s okay,” Deon responded automatically, reconsidering his feelings even as he spoke. He chewed his lip. “I don’t think we have time to eat, though.”
“Nahhh,” disagreed Emily. “We have 20 minutes. Let’s get some apps and run to the theater.”
After a few appetizers, Deon and Emily were late to the theater, but only by a few minutes. It was a good movie and they enjoyed the time together. Emily had held onto Deon’s arm and they even made out a little during the credits. They walked to her car afterwards, holding hands, talking and laughing.
“I had a good time tonight,” said Emily, her perfect smile reminiscent of a dentistry commercial.
“Me, too,” said Deon. He bit his lip. He wanted to come over to her place but didn’t know how to ask. She was giving him bedroom eyes. Hazel pools looked dreamily at his face.
“You know, my roommate’s out tonight…” she started. Deon smiled.
Emily’s apartment was nice, except that there were clothes and beauty products everywhere. He had a feeling that her roommate wasn’t the messy one. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t here to rate her apartment. He was here to fuck this weird, amazingly hot girl.
She offered him wine and he accepted. They sipped casually as they made their way to the bedroom. Deon cleared a space on her bed and sat on it. Emily set the mood with a dim lamp and then sat on his lap. He had been at half-chub all evening, so he knew would be fully hard soon.
They made out, with her sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. He slid one hand down to her knee, and one down to her waist. Then slowly the hand dropped down from the waist to the top of her bottom. Before he could make an even further move, she hopped up, turned, then sat backwards on his lap, her bubble butt grazing his mostly-hard-on. She didn’t have a huge ass, but it was quite curvy for such a skinny girl. And then she began to grind.
Deon moaned as she ground her butt into his crotch, giving him the sexiest lap dance he’d ever had. For a white girl, she had moves. It wasn’t twerking, but it was damn sexy. She looked back at him, a naughty glance on her face, as she worked it to and fro, her booty cheeks studiously attentive to his confined-but-erect cock. His mouth hung open as he marveled at her graceful, yet provocative gyrations.
“Damn, girl,” he breathed. He stood, sliding her off his lap. “You gon’ get it.”
She giggled and sighed as he felt on her body, pulling down her jean shorts and plying her with kisses. Satin purple panties covered her ass for only a moment until he pulled them down, too.
Seeing Emily’s ass was a spiritual experience. He thanked God for leading him to this moment. A perfect alabaster bubble of an ass, framed by a tanned back and thighs. This pristine plum was meant for his eyes and dick. She put her palms on the wall. He opened up his jeans and pulled on a condom. Then he teased her pussy from behind with his hard thick cock.
“Fuck, Deon, fuck me already.”
He didn’t need any further instruction; he was just entranced by her parts for the moment.
“Fuck me up the ass if you want.”
Holy shit, this girl was a freak.
It wasn’t his first time having anal sex, but it was rare enough that he felt a bit intimidated. Surely he should fuck her pussy first and then give it to her in the ass afterwards? Or maybe she wanted it now?
Then Deon realized that he was stupid. He didn’t even have any lube. “I don’t have any lube,” he confessed, suddenly feeling even dumber for voicing it aloud. Had he talked himself out of anal sex? He mostly wanted to fuck her pussy, but anal was a rare treat that he definitely wanted it almost as much. Maybe just as much.
Emily didn’t flinch at his shameful confession. She just sucked on her two fingers and then fingered her asshole to spread the saliva. Oh, this girl was a slut. It was sort of a turn off. He wondered how many guys had already fucked her ass. He shooed those thoughts away for now. It was his turn, and he could think of nothing more he wanted than to stick his hard dick in her eager asshole.
“No matter, I’m good to go,” she whispered. What a damn slut.
Sluts were a fact of life. Good girls held back, giving themselves to only one or two men, after those men earned the pussy during a frustrating, but necessary trial. Pussy was a prize. If it was given away too early, it wasn’t worth much. He knew he wasn’t the first, but now he suspected he wasn’t even the tenth or twentieth. Deon wasn’t special, so if a girl let him fuck, it wasn’t because he was especially charming or cool or handsome. It was because she was a slut with a huge body count. Sluts were good for fucking, but not for wife-ing up.
This was disappointing, but what to do with Emily afterwards was a problem for future Deon. For now, he was going to fuck Emily. And apparently, he would fuck her ass first, then her pussy after.
“Fuck yeah,” he said, lining his dick up with her anus. Emily moaned and bit her lip as Deon pushed his dick into her asshole. Friction, then a pop, and a tightness enveloped him as her asshole welcomed him inside. She initially moved away from his advancing dick as her ass struggled to take him all. Then she pushed back on it until her ass swallowed him down to the hilt.
“Fuck the shit out of my shithole,” said Emily.
He laughed at her words, surely accidental. She was terrible at dirty talk. But he wanted it bad, so he began fucking her, hard. His thighs slapped against her soft buttocks. His dick rammed her anal cavity good.
Emily moaned louder and louder as Deon fucked her tight butt. He was glad no one was home because she was such a loud, horny slut. It was great, though. The last time Deon had tried anal, it was annoyingly slow and the girl was overly hesitant. Then he had gotten soft and had to awkwardly get hard again and restart in the last girl’s ass. It was a mess.
Whereas today, Deon had pretty much shoved it in Emily without much ado, and she let him hit it as hard and fast as he could, seemingly wanting even harder and faster. Maybe more than he could deliver. It was fantastic, like fucking pussy; perhaps better. It felt so natural. He wanted to do this every day. Maybe Deon was wrong about her. Maybe he could indeed make a housewife out of a hooker.
“Gimme that ass,” he said.
“Take it, Deon! Take my asshole!”
Deon couldn’t keep this up for long. She had the kung fu grip on his dick and it felt amazing. Her eyes looked back at him hungrily, seemingly staring into his very soul. How could he continue much longer under such circumstances? He looked down to see her asshole gripping his dick like the lips of a whore mid-blowjob. The whole thing was just insanely hot.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” admitted Deon, only a tinge embarrassed for orgasming so quickly.
Emily didn’t seem to mind at all. “Cum up my guts, Deon,” she begged. “Cum all over my insides.”
Deon was shocked at her shamelessly crude speech, but it was almost good. He kind of liked it, in a weird way. Like, wasn’t it kind of cool that she wasn’t ashamed to ask him for what she wanted, even if it was filthy?
Deon couldn’t think. Instead, he came. He came what felt like ropes and ropes and ropes inside her hungry butt. He grunted deep growls as he finished in her ass. He humped her erratically, feeling his orgasm spike with every thrust.
Emily, for her part, was all smiles. She moaned and grunted and giggled until Deon was done draining himself. They both fell to the floor, Deon first, then Emily shortly thereafter, their weakened legs incapable of supporting themselves.
After a brief respite, Emily stood. She grabbed Deon’s hand and dragged him as he resisted standing.
“C’mon. Come with me.”
Deon eventually stood, reluctantly. “What, girl,” he slurred.
“C’mere.”
Emily dragged Deon to the bathroom, where she took a seat on the commode. It seemed as if she needed to piss and but wanted him there to spend time with her. This was fine. Although, “girls don’t piss and shit”, he’d seen a girl piss before and it didn’t bother him too much. Unsurprisingly, Emily let loose a stream of piss into the bowl, sighing as she emptied her bladder. The only thing weird was that her legs were spread wide, like she wanted him to see the stream. It was whatever.
“Wanna see the snow-capped mountain?” Emily asked.
Tired from the fucking, Deon didn’t understand. He stood against the bathroom wall, looking at her pissing pussy and the patch of brown hair above it. What did she mean?
Emily winced, her eye closing slightly, and grunted. Her asshole, previously hidden by her body, blossomed into view and, before Deon realized what was happening, she had shot a long turd into the toilet. A fart followed, then a torrent of diarrhea shot rapid fire into the toilet bowl as Emily sighed, a dreamy smile on her tired face. A perfect ten was unloading a barrage of turds right in front of his face.
It was the nastiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Aw, shit,” said Deon, leaving the bathroom so quickly that he almost left a Deon-shaped cloud of dust behind. The farting on his back, the nasty talk, and the shitting... it was all too much for him.
Such was the end of Deon and Emily’s relationship. It was a great story; one he’d only tell when drunk, and strictly for comedic effect. In his accounts, he never mentioned how hard he came or how great it felt. But often, Deon would think about Emily and wonder if it was the best sex he had ever had in his life.