An Evening with Alex and Em, by Malin James (August guest post special!)

In late July I wrote this, about a story I read many years ago. Reflecting on its lasting impact, I said the following:

“In the end, it’s that loosening of self-control that I crave when I read erotica – or smut of any kind. I want to feel it in my stomach, as well as between my legs, and I want to be halfway to orgasm before I give in and actually touch myself.”

What I didn’t say at the time is that The Swimming Pool wasn’t the only story to inspire that post…

While I was on holiday, I turned 34. Last year, I marked the occasion by inviting people to send me their own birthday sex stories. I’m taking a (possibly indefinite) break from running competitions, so that wasn’t an option this time; nevertheless, when I checked my phone just before dinner on the 9th, I discovered that someone had decided to write one anyway.

That someone was Malin James, which only made it an even nicer surprise. I scanned the first couple of paragraphs, but quickly realised I needed to save it for a time when I could enjoy it properly. After fidgeting my way through dinner, I settled down on the sofa with a glass of wine, let one hand fall lazily down inside my shorts, and started to read.

‘An Evening with Alex and Em’ is a story I felt both in my stomach and between my legs. It’s a story that made me come once that evening, and several more times in the weeks since then. It’s a story written to appeal directly to my kinks (and to one of my all-time biggest fantasies), so it may not have that instant, gut-wrenching, cock-stiffening impact on everyone, but fuck me, it certainly did the job where I was concerned. Of all the presents I got on my birthday this year, it was without question the hottest.

In fact, I loved it so much that I asked Malin whether I could post it here for other people to enjoy, and after a grand total of zero arm-twisting she said yes. Reading it again just now, I almost had to put off writing this post till later and scurry down to my bedroom for a bit.


It’s. That. Good.

Basically, if you like this even half as much as I do, you’re in for a treat (and if you’re planning a hen night any time soon…um…do feel free to get in touch). For my part, I’m already looking forward to whatever she comes up with next year…

An Evening with Alex and Em

“Hey Em, have you seen my phone?”

I jam another bottle of champagne into the fridge without turning around.

“Sorry babe. Try your work bag?”

“I did. It’s not there.”

“Don’t know then…. Do you think five bottles is a enough for four women?”

I turn around, holding a sixth bottle like I’m going to wring its neck. Alex is standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel and an extremely annoyed look. Between his runner’s body and the towel slung low on his hips, the ratio of women to wine doesn’t isn’t nearly so interesting anymore.

“Well, hello handsome. Why do you need your phone?”

“I’m going down to the pub while you and your ladies have your thing. Was going to see if anyone wants to meet for a pint.”

The way he says your ladies makes me raise a brow. He hasn’t said it outright, but he’s prickly about our flat getting commandeered for a hen do. On the one hand, I’m vaguely annoyed by his annoyance. On the other, I kind of love the prickliness. It makes me want to bat at his tail like a cat.

“I’d worry less about finding your phone and more about finding your jeans,” I say, pulling out a tray of fluffy little cakes. “Not that you don’t look great. Very Roman baths. Darcy would like it. Laura too, probably.”

Darcy is the bride-to-be. She’s had a crush on Alex ever since she caught him fucking her sister, Laura, in college.

Alex grumbles something about “exile” and a “long fucking week” and starts rummaging around the living room of our cozy flat. I saunter over and stand behind him while he crouches on the floor, checking under the couch. Bent over as he is, I can see every vertebrae in his strong, broad back. The sight of Alex kneeling on the ground, annoyed and fresh from the shower has concentrated my attention. I couldn’t care less about cakes and phones.

He’s still peering into the dusty dark when I run my fingertips lightly up his spine. He stills. Goosebumps cover his skin in the wake up my hand

“I don’t suppose you’d like my help,” I say, bending down beside him. The strap of my sundress slips, making it obvious that I’m not wearing a bra.

His wet hair smells good as I nuzzle his neck—it’s a spicy, clean, male scent that I associate only with him. It’s become so familiar I can tell when he walks into a room. I love the mundane intimacy of it.

Alex turns and gives me a hot, narrow look. Our faces are very close. I thread my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck but stop just short of a kiss.

“What exactly do you have on under that dress, Em?”

I let the strap fall farther, fully exposing my breast.

“About as much as you’ve got on under that towel.”

The look sharpens and concentrates as he pulls me into him. We settle in a heap on the floor with me straddling his lap. I feel his cock go from semi to fully hard, and I shift so that he’s pressed more firmly between my legs.

“How about you call the party off,” he says.

Again, I’m vaguely annoyed, but his tongue is soft and hot on my breast, sucking my nipple to an achy peak.

“Not likely,” I say, grinding against him. “Besides, this isn’t helping you find your phone. I was under the impression that you were trying to leave before the hens get here. Exile is serious. No time for silliness like touching my soaking wet cunt.”

“There is always time to touch your soaking wet cunt.”

Alex’s eyes glaze and his hands drift up my thighs, pushing the skirt up until it’s obvious that I wasn’t lying about what I haven’t got on under my dress. His thumb grazes my clit. I bat his hand away.

“No, baby,” I say, letting a lazy edge into my voice. “We’re supposed to be finding your phone. My ladies will be here any minute—can’t have them catch you like this. Think of the sexual frenzy.”

I’m only partially joking. There’s an energy about Alex that mainlines straight to a woman’s libido. It’s almost like he creates a chemically altered state. I’ve seen it happen and, I’ll be honest, I love watching it play out.

I stand up and make a show of straightening my clothes. Alex looks up at me, a mixture of anger and frustration clear on his face. It makes me want to strip off the dress and tell him to fuck me over the arm of the couch because now I’m as riled as he is, but I want to make him wait. Alex is brilliant at quick and dirty, but I’m in the mood for a slow burn, so I content myself with a light, friendly kiss…which was a mistake, because kissing Alex is both the gateway to a number of sexual possibilities, and a pleasure all it’s own.

We stare at each other, at an impasse. He’s still looking up at me likes he’s going to pull me back down when my phone rings. I shrug, all innocence, and saunter to the counter where I left it. By the time I get there, it’s gone straight to message.

“Well, fuck,” I say, once I’ve listened through.

“What?” Alex smirks. “Did the stripper cancel?”

“No, not the stripper,” I say, totally deadpan. “The call boy…call man? The male escort.”

Alex looks at me like he didn’t hear me right. Now it’s my turn to smirk.

“Darcy wants a Las Vegas experience. You know—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Anyway, she asked for a naked man. You’d think she’d never seen one….”

“A stripper qualifies as a naked man,” he says, getting up off the floor. His towel droops and he adjusts it. I can just see the outline of his cock through the thin material. My cunt aches a little in response. Maybe we just should have fucked….

“You can’t touch a stripper,” I reply. “She wants a naked man and a “moderately filthy experience” before she marries the only guy she’s ever slept with.”

“Ha! Poor Darcy. Guess she’ll have to get married without her filthy experience,” he says.

“Mm…maybe,” I reply.

Alex goes back to looking for his phone. I watch him like a lion in the tall grass. I want to pounce and gobble him up and it’s giving me an idea—something we’ve talked about on lazy afternoons and described in creative detail while we fuck, but have yet to make happen in real life.

He furrows his brow and runs his fingers through his hair, rumpling it worse. That one, tiny gesture makes up my mind. Suddenly, I’m awash in happy calm. We’re going to have a game.

“Don’t go to the pub,” I say. My mouth curves and I know I look a bit predatory, but I can’t help it. “Stay and be Darcy’s filthy experience.”

Just saying it sends a shot of adrenaline through me, but I remain impassive, just this side of cold, as if all I’ve asked him to do is run to the store. Alex turns and stares at me. For one disorienting second, I can’t read his face.

A no forms on his lips. I can see it, hovering waiting to spill out, but it doesn’t. It hangs suspended between us, caught at the impulse where he’s checked it. The relief I feel is staggering. There’s an element of risk in the kind of games we play, as well as in the way we play them. I’ve just lobbed a ball into his court without warning. He isn’t required to hit it, but I’m relieved it didn’t go out of bounds.

“What are you saying, Em?”

I hold his gaze steady and play through.

“What I’m saying is that I want you to supplicate yourself for the voyeuristic pleasure of your girlfriend and the pre-marital happiness of one of her oldest friends.”

Alex clears his throat.

“Wouldn’t that make things weird between my girlfriend and one of her oldest friends?”

“No. I don’t think it would.”

I smile. I know Alex. I know him as well as he knows me. He’s making a lovely show of reluctance, but he’s no prey creature. He does, however, occasionally need me stalk him down. His eyes are bright and there’s a lovely flush creeping up his cheeks. That flush tells me what he needs from me, and I’m more than happy to give it.

“Or, if it makes you more comfortable,” I say, hopping up on the counter, “we can make it a bet. If I find your phone before you do, you have to stay and be the cock at our hen party.”

“And if I win?”

He grins, suddenly confident that he’ll find the thing that has, thus far, eluded him.

“If you win?” I shrug. “I’ll go for a week without having an orgasm. Those seem like pretty even stakes. You know how much I love to come.”

My voice has dropped naturally over the course of the conversation. By the time I say come I’m all but purring. As expected, Alex rises to the challenge.

“All right, Em. You’ve got a bet.”

“Good. One, two, three…Go.”

Alex starts scanning the room, looking for spots that haven’t been excavated. I pick up my phone and dial his number. A pile of bills starts to vibrate on the counter next to me. I lift them up and find his phone. My number is flashing on the caller ID. I hang up, not bothering to hide my triumph.

“Hey, darlin. Looking for this?”

I laugh as that gorgeous mixture of anger and frustration flashes over his face.

“Fuck! Where did you find it?”

“Under the mail, my love. You must’ve buried it when you came in.”

He walks over as if he needs proof. I hand him the phone just a text comes through on mine.

“Just in time too. That’s Laura—they’re five minutes away.”

Alex scowls. I can feel the nerves thrilling through him. He’s already starting to stress. I hop down from the counter and put my arms around his waist. His skin is warm and just a bit damp where I kiss him—chest, shoulder, neck. He’s so much taller than I am that I get up on tiptoe to kiss his mouth.

He kisses me back like he’s anchoring himself to me. Being dropped into a situation on someone else’s terms always makes him edgy…which is often when he has the best time.

“It’s only four women, love,” I murmur. “Surely you can handle four women on your own….”

There’s a hint of a tease in my voice. I have no doubt he will more than rise to the occasion. And judging from the lovely, fat, bulge pressed against my hip, I’d say he already has.

“What exactly am I going to have to do?”

I touch his face, very calm and serious.

“You’re going to be a good little slut and do what you’re told. You’re going to treat my friends as you would treat me, while I allow them to objectify you in any number of ways. You’re going to make sure Darcy has a wonderfully filthy experience and you’re going to make each and every one my ladies fall a little bit in love with you. Understood?”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to reassure.”

The doorbell rings. I kiss him again, and gently bite his lip, branding him in my own way. No matter what happens over the course of the evening, I want him to know I have him.

“Now go answer the door. And leave the towel on…for now.”

My ladies are really my three closest friends—Mel of the magnificent tits, Laura and Laura’s sister, Darcy, the not-quite virginal bride-to-be. They all know Alex socially (except for Laura who, as an ex, is privy to more intimate detail), but if any of them wonder why he answered the door looking like he’d just stepped out of the shower, none of them comment. And neither do I, until he starts serving champagne.

“So,” I say, after we’ve properly toasted the bride. “I have some good news and some bad news. First the bad news: our entertainment for the evening has cancelled.”

“Oh no!” Darcy claps her hands to her mouth. Her disappointment is so genuine that I almost feel a bad for capitalizing on the glitch in her party, even though I know she won’t mind having Alex as a replacement.

“Sorry, Darce,” Mel says, sucking down the contents of her flute. “Looks like it’s going to be knitting and RomComs after all.”

Laura nudges me and grins.

“Is that why Alex is wearing a towel? Is he meant to replace the escort? That’s hilarious! Oh my god, how appropriate! Sorry, darling,” she says, turning to him. “But it is.”

Alex’s mouth compresses. I give Laura a wry smile.

“That’s the good news. Alex was sweet enough to volunteer.”

Laura snorts.

“Volunteer, huh? Did he lose a bet?”

I shrug. “You could say that.”

Darcy glances at Alex, turning pink to the tips of her ears.

“Are you sure it’s okay, Em? I mean, you know…I don’t want it to be weird for you.”

I smile, softening.

“It’s okay, honey. I promise. He wouldn’t be standing there looking all eager and awkward if it weren’t.”

I glance over and meet his eyes. We’ve barely started and he’s struggling, caught between his ego and the rush of humiliation. Frustrated desire floods my system and for a second I can barely breathe. My mouth is literally watering for him, but I keep my face neutral and look away.

“Well,” said Mel, eying Alex like she’s choosing livestock. “for my part, I’ve always been curious about what he’s packing.”

Laura snorted. “I’d give him a B plus. I’ve had worse, but I’ve certainly seen better.”

By now, Alex is blushing so hard that his eyes are shining a bright, unnatural blue. One of the sweetest, most unexpected perks of being with a ginger is the world of ways in which they blush. His big, sensitive hands hang awkwardly at his side, while the outline of his dick stands out against his towel like a pornographic advertisement. He’s so embarrassed his ears were probably ringing. It’s time to get the ball rolling.

“Alex,” I say, conversationally. “Stand in front of the window. I’m sure the neighbors would appreciate the view.”



Alex moves slowly, more of an amble than a walk. The wonderful thing about him is that he wants to submit. He wants to be objectified and judged, but he wants it on his terms. He rarely just gives in. Sometimes it drives me mad, but I love that there’s often resistance to push past, even when he wants something as much as he wants this.

“Come on, handsome,” I said. “Don’t be shy. Everyone here knows how you love to show off.”

Alex stops in the middle of the room and turns to face us. His back is to the picture window that looks out onto the buildings across the street. Lights shine in the flats across the way, while Alex vibrates with an energy all his own.

“Good boy,” I say, gently. “Now take the towel off.”

The moment I say it, he’s pinned by four sets of eyes. He stands there, hands heavy on the towel while Darcy leans over and whispers something to Laura. I stay quiet and watch him. Suddenly, his arms jerk like his strings have been pulled and he starts to take the towel off.

“Slow down, baby. Nice and slow. This is a first for Mel and Darcy. Don’t rush it.”

Alex stops. Then he takes a couple of deep breaths and very slowly peels the towel off.

His cock is pressed flat up against his stomach, engorged and fully erect. He’s so hard I can practically see the pre-cum leaking from the tip. My cunt flutters. It’s an automatic response. I fucking love his cock.

He meets my eyes and nods. It’s an acceptance. Now that he naked, we’re on the same page and he no longer looks nervous at all. He just stands there, quietly, flushed from his balls to his hairline while three women appraise him.

“Very pretty,” Mel says, cocking her head. “Not really my type, but any port in a storm.”

“He’s so hard,” Darcy says, eyes wide. “Does he get that hard all the time, or has he been edging?”

“No, he hasn’t been edging,” I say, taking a sip of wine. “He’s just a desperate slut.”

“Em, all joking aside, it’s been ages since I saw that dick. Can I touch it?”

This from Laura, who is surprisingly sentimental about cocks.

“Alex, go over to Laura so she can stroll down memory lane.”

Another little mechanism clicks as he walks over to Laura. She winks at me and strokes him from base to tip. He inhales sharply. A look of surprised mortification transforms his face as he thrusts into her fist.

“Look at you, stud” Laura says. “Nothing’s changed! Em, do you mind if I suck him a little. I used to love sucking him off.”

“Sure,” I say, keeping her eye on Alex. He has that half alarmed / half dazed look I love. “But don’t make him come, Laura. That’s for later.”

“Sure thing,” Laura says, still grasping his dick as casually as if she were holding a cigarette. “I just want a taste.”

“Taste away.”

Laura grins and slides her lips over his crown. Alex sways but stays steady on his feet. I press my legs together, enjoying the sticky slickness that coats my thighs.

“That’s enough, honey,” I say, still watching Alex. Laura relinquishes her hold, pouting a bit. I know him well enough to know that he isn’t close to coming, but it’s Darcy’s night and Laura’s greedy. “Anyone else want a taste?”

“No thanks,” says Mel. “I’ll stick to the bubbly.”

“What about you, Darcy? Want to try? Or would Scott mind?”

I look at the bride. She’s grinning wholesomely.

“No, I’d love to. Scott says whatever ever happens tonight stays off the record.”

“Fair enough.”

Laura passes Alex to Darcy with sisterly affection as a sense of well being settles over me. I love watching, and I watch him now like he’s the single focus of my life, which, at that moment, he is. I let Darcy have a nice long turn at giving him head, stopping her only when I can see that he’s close.

“Darcy, that’s enough, honey.”

Darcy stops, but gives me a look like a little girl who’s had her lollipop taken away.

“Aw, Em….”

“Be patient, Darce. You wanted a “moderately filthy experience” and I’m going to give it to you.”

Alex is covered in sweat and so painfully erect my labia ache in sympathy. His face is usually shuttered, but right now it’s open and sweet. He’s halfway unraveled. He looks so lovely I could kiss him, but I don’t. Instead, I feel around for the boundary of what we were doing and sidle up against it.

“Alex, baby. Go back and kneel in front of the window. I want you to masturbate so the ladies can see you come.”

Alex looks at me, suddenly alert and slightly stressed. Getting sucked off is one thing, but masturbating for an audience is something else entirely. I get up and go stand beside him. He hasn’t kneeled yet and I’m struck, as I sometimes am, by how small I am beside him. Be he’s naked and I am wearing my flimsy dress like armor. The disparity was incredibly hot.

“Love,” I say, only for him, “you are going to get yourself off, right now, so my friends and anyone who happens to look in can see how hot you are when you come, and after they’ve left, we are going to go downstairs and you’re going to fuck me until I scream. All right?”

We looked at each other, co-conspirators for a split second. Then he kneels and I stroke his hair before returning to my seat. Then our eyes lock as he gingerly touches his cock, almost as if he were calming it down.

“Wait,” I say. “Darcy? Is this filthy enough for you? Or would you like him to come all over your tits?”

Alex grins as Darcy’s mouth drops open. Then, without saying anything, she gets up and strips off her shirt before lying down on the carpet in front of him. Alex stays on his knees and straddles her while her hands flutter at her sides. She looks so blissed out it makes me grin. The only thing hotter than Alex getting subby is watching a happy woman prostrate herself in front of him. He glances at me and winks. Then he spits in his palm and begins to stroke himself.

As I watch them, my awareness narrows until there was only Alex. I can feel him getting closer and pulling back, again and again, as he pushes himself to the edge. I can practically feel his cock inside me…. I tense in my chair as he falls back on his heels and thrusts into his fist. My pulse is hammering deep in my cunt. I am this close to coming myself. I’m so close that I hold my breath. Then he finally lets go, groaning and shooting cum all over Darcy’s pretty tits.

“Well, fuck me,” Mel says. “I guess maybe he is my type.”

Alex looks right at me, hazy and exhausted. I smile. It’s my natural smile, huge and unrestrained. I’m so happy I could burst.

“That was lovely,” I say. “Now lick Darcy clean and pour us some drinks.”

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7 Responses to An Evening with Alex and Em, by Malin James (August guest post special!)

  1. Pingback: Guest Post: An Evening with Alex and Em - Malin James

  2. Shalom says:

    Dayum, that rocked!

  3. Pingback: 24 hours (reprise) | Exhibit A

  4. Pingback: February 8th: Measuring Up (with a fab guest story by @EuclideanPoint!) | Exhibit A

  5. Wow, you are right EA… that’s some story. I envy you getting to do it for all those horny sex bloggers. Now we need the rest of your story.

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