Bad Intentions - Too Bad It’s Fake

When she had recovered a bit, I lay down next to Emma, kissing her earnestly on the cheek. She turned her head and we kissed again on the lips.

“Can I be on top?” she asked.

“Sure, if you want to.”

“W-will you, help me?”

“Of course.”

We kissed again and I lay down on my back, helping Emma climb up on top. Holding on to her hips, I gently guided her as she lowered herself down on to my cock, easing it slowly into her pussy. Getting down further than I would have thought possible, Emma wobbled a bit, getting into a comfortable position. I held onto her tightly to keep her from going over.

When she was ready, Emma put her hands on my chest and started moving up and down on me. Starting off slowly, she built up in intensity until she was jackhammering on my cock. It never ceased to amaze me how great she felt.

Getting off me just in time, Emma turned around and sucked my cock until I unloaded into her mouth. I licked her luscious pussy until she screamed and collapsed on me. Scooping her up, I lay her down in a more comfortable position and cuddled her until she fell asleep.

When the clock-radio came on the next morning, and I woke up with my beautiful girl in my arms, I couldn’t help smiling to myself.

“Hey,” Emma said, turning towards me.

“Hey,” I said.

We kissed briefly before Emma even got her eyes open. Such was the sharpness of her instincts. It was comforting in a way.

Calling down to room service for breakfast, we started getting into our evening wear, which seemed kind of odd, considering the event was in the afternoon.

I had bought Emma a dress of her choosing which brought out the best of her most attractive attributes. I put on my expensive, tailored tux.

“You look so handsome,” Emma said, helping me with my tie.

“And you love it,” I smirked.

“Yeah, I do.”

We kissed, Emma having to get up on her tiptoes in order to reach, even while wearing high heels.

Emma was absolutely buzzing on the way to the elevator and on the trip down, going over the idea for her growing catering company, pausing only to take my hand and kiss me after the doors closed.

“I’m lucky I found you,” I told her.

“And don’t forget it,” she teased.

With Emma’s help and encouragement, I made it all the way to the doors of the reception hall only stopping once for a deep fortifying breath.

“You’ll do great,” she assured me.

“Thanks to you.”

When we entered the ballroom, I tried to not be knocked down by the ambiance. Everyone else was in black tie. The smell of money wafting off of them as they primly sipped champagne from crystal flutes. I wonder how many people they could have housed with the catering budget alone.

“I wonder who their caterer is,” Emma said, taking a slightly different interpretation of the situation.

“I’ll be sure to ask,” I said.

“Noah!”

“Hi, mom,” I said, not needing to turn around.

“And you must be Emma,” Mom said, reaching out to take my date’s hand.

“Mrs. Wells,” Emma said, shaking mom’s hand with a slight bow.

“Good gracious she’s a pretty thing,” Mom said to me.

“I noticed, we are getting married after all,” I said.

“Don’t get smart,” Mom admonished.

“I can’t help it, it’s genetic,” I teased.

“Oh you,” Mom said blushing furiously, picking up on the cunningly disguised compliment.

“Did Sarah make it?” I asked.

“Yes, but I couldn’t convince your father.”

“He’s retired,” I pointed out.

“Try telling him that,” Mom said, giving one of her world-famous eye-rolls.

“Never.”

“Holy crap!”

We all turned to see Sarah, my little sister, walking up to us, beautiful as ever in a gorgeous dress she no doubt designed herself and a glass of what looked to be club soda in her hand.

“Language!” Mom admonished her.

“English,” Sarah said with a smirk.

We shared a subtle high five, Mom didn’t notice but I was pretty sure Emma did, even though she didn’t say anything.

“What in Hades are you wearing?” Sarah asked, looking me up and down, admiring my designer tux. She was very into fashion.

“Like it?” I asked.

“Hell, yes.”

Mom looked about ready to drop dead of a heart attack.

“This is Emma, she’s my fiancée,” I said, trying to avoid disaster.

Sarah switched her focus over to Emma, looking her up and down a couple times and then wolf-whistled her approval.

“Thanks,” Emma said blushing shyly.

“What did my brother have to do to get a hottie like you?”

“Just be himself,” Emma said kissing me on the cheek.

“Ain’t that sweet,” Sarah smirked.

“Contraction!” Mom shouted making most of the people around us jump and us.

“Don’t be silly, you’re too old to get pregnant,” Sarah joked.

I could tell that Mom wanted to smack her upside the head, but we were in public, so she restrained herself.

“Anyway,” Mom said, still giving Sarah the Evil Eye, “Emma is clearly much better for you than Gina ever was.”