Unconventional

A short Little Emily Dreams story

Part of the Virtual Literotica Convention 2025 event

— — —

Thank you to Freya Gersemi for creating and organizing this new event, and for allowing some of her characters to appear in cameo. Thank you also to my friend, Djmac1031, for trusting me with his two most cherished characters. I hope I did them justice.

One further thing: if the meaning of the emoji section dividers is not clear to you, maybe this isn't your kinda story ????.

— — —

Unconventional

by Emily Miller

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

Wait! What had the PA said? I listened intently, hoping the announcement would be repeated.

Paging Emily Williams. Passenger Amy Stevens-Byrne, arrived on UA 2718, is waiting at the United Information Desk by Baggage Claim...

Static masked the actual number. Fuck! How had we missed each other? And where the Hell was the Information Desk? This was my first trip to Washington, and I had no clue.

I saw a group of United flight attendants, chatting among themselves as they pulled their carry-ons, and took the opportunity.

"Sorry to interrupt, were you on 2718?" I got nods in reply and continued, "Where's the Information Desk?"

One of the women gestured over her shoulder. "There are three; by baggage claim six, eleven, and fourteen, six is just there"

Offering my thanks, I walked quickly in the direction she had indicated. No one was at six, but as I approached eleven, I saw a familiar figure. A familiar figure looking kinda impatient, one hand on her roller, the other on her hip.

'Oh great,' I thought, 'obviously my fault... as always.' I attempted a big, welcoming smile.

My efforts to be disarming seemed to work. If anything, Amy looked delighted to see me, and our embrace was warm.

???????? ???????? ????????

I'd seen Emily while she was still some distance away. It was well before she saw me, then her eyesight had never been the best. I'd been quite clear about where to meet. Only she could screw up something so simple. Give her something complex to do and few were better, but day-to-day shit...? Not so much.

Still, the sight of her weaving her way toward me, blonde ponytail bouncing as she negotiated the crowd, took me back. Took me back almost two years, and to waiting for her at my home airport. Took me back to her confessing her epiphany that she had loved me back in college; that she still did love me. A lot had happened in the time since then.

When she got closer, a look of recognition spread over her freckled, bespectacled face, closely followed by one of trepidation. 'Oh, Emily! Really? After all we've been through together?'

When I saw the defensive smile she'd adopted, I matched it with my own more genuine version, and in seconds we were in each other's arms. Our lips pressed together, our tongues meeting and jousting.

Emily pulled back, a startled look on her face. "What...? We said no... What about Madison?"

"And Alex, don't forget Alex," I added. This only seemed to increase my friend's discombobulation.

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

The old electricity was still there. But now accentuated - at least for me - by my eventual admission of love. My heart was pounding, my body responding in a way that was specially reserved for her, for my Amy.

Only she wasn't my Amy, same as I wasn't her Emily. We'd each just mentioned the other's spouse. We'd each been Chief Bridesmaid at the other's wedding. What the fuck was happening? I felt befuddled, disoriented.

Amy appeared to read my thoughts, not an uncommon happening. "It's not real, sis. This is a fantasy, a dream, right?"

"A dream is not reality, but who's to say which is which?" I breathed, half aloud, half to myself.

"You and your classic allusions," grinned Amy.

"But... but this feels real," I stuttered. "Does it feel real to you?"

"Yeah," she replied, "but some dreams are realistic. Maybe it's your dream, Em, and you want me to say that."

"I..." My brain felt confused, and speaking was difficult. It didn't feel like my dream, indeed I couldn't escape the conviction that I, and maybe Amy, were being manipulated by some unseen force.

Amy stepped into the vacuum. "Sis, whatever this is - and I have no fucking idea either - I have a pass. Madison told me she's cool with whatever. And Alex...?"

Things were slowly coming back to me, or maybe new information was being revealed to me. "Yeah... him too. Said we should have fun, go wild, whatever, as you say."

I remembered the conversation, but it felt almost as if that memory had only formed when Amy asked me. As if it had appeared only when needed.

"So..." grinned Amy. "You know what I'm gonna say, right?"

I did indeed. "Er... Don't overthink it? Maybe... go with the flow?"

She nodded, and so we did. At least until the woman behind the United desk called out rather loudly, "Get a room, please!"

So we went to get a room.

???????? ???????? ????????

In truth, I was as much in the dark about what was happening as Emily, but I had already determined that I'd not worry too much about it. In the car, some things were beginning to come back to me. Or maybe whoever was dreaming this dream was filling in the blanks.

I decided to see what Emily knew. "So, I got an invitation. The convention. Hosted by that tawdry site you insist on writing for, right?"

"Right," she replied, a look of consternation on her face. "Me too. But... it's for characters to meet other characters. Freya..."

"Who?" I inquired.

"You must know Freya, right? Freya Gersemi. Italian, red hair, sex addict?"

"Sis, I read your stories, not anyone else's. It's your hobby, not mine. I prefer skiing. And as for characters, aren't we both characters in what you write?"

"Yeah," Emily acknowledged slowly, "but... but we're real people too."

I had to laugh. "And you think all the other authors in your little sex play-pen are so imaginative that they've never inserted themselves into the plot? From what you tell me, it's one big sexual wish-fulfillment-palooza."

My friend still looked uncertain, so I went on. "This is all in your head, or my head, or maybe both. Perhaps it's an 'Inception' thing." I knew Emily well; when all else fails, it's best to use Chris Nolan analogies.

She smiled at my reference, and I continued. "We're in a car, heading for the Grand City Hotel in D. C. And...?"

At my prompt, Emily said, "And we're gonna fuck. And then we're gonna fuck other..." She suddenly looked doubtful. "Other um... Literotica characters. And..."

"And it's gonna be fun," I interjected. "Just like in college. As this isn't real, I might even try some cock for a change. And...?"

Emily finally got my drift. "And we're not gonna worry about my husband, or your wife, or Clara... how is Clara by the way?"

"She's great, in first grade now." I replied. "But..."

"But we're not gonna worry about her, because this isn't real, got it!" Emily said, now looking much more relaxed.

So relaxed in fact that I couldn't resist putting my hand between her jean-clad legs as we made out on the back seats.

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

By the time the car pulled off of Massachusetts Avenue and stopped in front of the Grand City Hotel, I was worried that a dark patch might be forming on my crotch. Ames always got me so wet.

She paid the driver and we looked up at the building, fourteen floors of steel and glass anchored by more traditional brick. A transparent canopy led to a large lobby, with soaring walls, and a long, curved reception desk. Placed on two easels were signs welcoming us to the Literotica Convention.

As ever, Amy took control. "Hi, you should have our reservations. Stevens-Byrne and Williams. We're here for the convention."

The customer service agent smiled. "Amy and Emily, right? Welcome. So many pretty women this weekend. But at least you two have normal sized breasts. Never seen so many double Ds in all my life."

???????? ???????? ????????

While the woman was processing my card and doing whatever else hotel staff do to keep you waiting around interminably, I took in my surroundings. To our right, a - to my mind - rather nondescript middle aged couple were checking in. To my left was a group of four; three women and a man.

I noticed the redhead first, her hair color reminded me of Madison, though she was younger, and taller. She was also extremely pretty. The guy was around six foot, handsome enough, if you liked Y chromosomes that is.

The other two women were polar opposites. A voluptuous blonde taller than the redhead, and a skinny, boyish brunette around Emily's height. What I noticed most about the pair was their incessant bickering.

Emily seemed captivated by the group. As I surveyed them, she stepped forward and addressed the auburn-haired woman. "Freya? It's Freya Gersemi, right?"

"Prossa, but yeah," she replied. A thought clearly hit her. "And you're Emily Miller, aren't you?"

"Williams," my friend corrected, "but yeah."

"Thank you so much for coming! We should... like... talk... maybe."

"Sure, that would be nice," Emily smiled. "Oh, and this is my best friend, Amy."

Freya had been focused on Emily, but now she looked at me. Her eyes widened. "The Amy?"

Em nodded a few times. "Uh-huh."

I felt like an exhibit at the zoo. Deciding I'd had enough of being the silent partner, I extended my hand. "Pleased to meet you, Freya."

"Wow! Emily writes about you being gorgeous, but I think she hasn't quite done you justice."

It takes a lot to make me blush, but Freya had managed it. To cover my embarrassment, I asked, "And...?" My eyes moving to Freya's entourage.

"Oh, right," she said, her gaze still gimlet-like on me. "This is Cyn," the statuesque blonde waved cheerily, "this is Katie," the smaller woman smiled rather more demurely, "and this is my husband, Alex."

Alex was also staring at me, slightly slack-jawed, but I nevertheless shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Turning back to Freya, I added, "Seems you and Emily have more in common than just writing porn."

Freya looked quizzical, and Emily interjected, "She means husbands; mine is called Alex too."

As my friend relayed this, I couldn't escape the feeling that something wasn't quite right. But I dismissed it. The thought of me and Emily in a hotel room was much more pressing.

"Oh, right," said Freya. "Is he...?"

"Here? No, it's just me and Ames," Emily answered.

Katie pulled at Freya's sleeve. "We'll be late for the meet and greet." Looking at me and Emily, she added, "Sorry," in a 'what ya gonna do?' manner.

"OK, Katie," sighed Freya, a little frustrated. "Let me give you my number, Emily. And we are on the seventh floor, 708 and 709."

Emily tapped Freya's number into her phone, then the reception woman chimed in, holding out our entry cards. "You'll be neighbors, your suite is 710."

"Ooo," squeaked Cynthia, "a suite? We'll have to come visit." The innuendo in her final sentence could not have been any more obvious.

With that, Katie pulled Freya and the others away. I insisted we wait for someone to take our luggage. The room cost enough, they could at least carry some bags for the price.

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

The suite was amazing. Double aspect, and very spacious. Ames tipped the hotel employee and he closed the door behind him. I was suddenly very aware of being alone with my ex, alone and - frankly - extremely horny.

But it wasn't only arousal flooding my body, it was apprehension. I could feel myself trembling.

"You OK, sis?" asked Amy, a look of concern on her face.

"Yeah, of course. Maybe the aircon is too high." I wrapped my arms around my chest as I spoke, knowing full well that the room temperature was not the real issue.

Then her arms were around me. It didn't feel scary or strange this time. It felt familiar, and safe, and warm, and - most of all - right. There had always been something about us - despite me battling to ignore it for so long - that just fit. Of course, I had that with Alex too, why else marry someone? But a deep connection with one human doesn't erase other connections. It's additive, not subtractive.

Which is all a long way of saying that I told myself, 'Fuck it!' grabbed her face, pushed my lips against hers hard, and slipped my tongue into her mouth. Moving to be cheek-to-cheek, I breathed in Amy's ear, "I want you."

I did. I wanted her so bad.

???????? ???????? ????????

Part of me wanted to believe my own assertion that none of this was real, and so nothing mattered. A bigger part of me knew that I was way beyond stopping myself. The combined momentum of years of shared experiences, and years of Emily's suppressed emotions, was just too much. There is such a thing as an irresistible force, and both Em and I were all too movable objects.

There was an urgency to our kisses, as if we were trying to seize an opportunity that we both knew could be fleeting. There was a fervor to how we stripped each other, an excitement not mitigated by familiarity, but only exacerbated by our lengthy and intimate knowledge of each other. It felt as if something, or someone, had magically removed anything that could prevent us from rekindling our previous intimacy.

And when I saw her nude, something welled up in me. Time rolled back and two thirty somethings were again nineteen year olds, on the cusp of shared sexual discovery. The fact that I knew both what we would do en route, and the journey's eventual bitter-sweet destination, was frankly irrelevant. All that mattered was the moment. All that mattered was us.

And my sexually confident, emotionally settled friend became once more a shy, neurotic young woman. One who needed my affirmation, my love, my desire, more than anything else; but was loath to admit to it. Emily's freckles were masked by blushes for fuck's sake. How could any woman hold back?

I moved her to the bed and pushed her down onto her back, her ass just by the edge. I stood between Emily's legs, and as I bent to kiss her, my hand found the silky smoothness of her vulva, and then the yearning moisture of her vagina. I kissed one pair of lips ardently, as my fingers parted another pair, slipping frictionlessly inside.

I couldn't resist pulling back and looking at her. There was almost astonishment in her widened eyes. When she spoke, Emily's voice was hoarse and breathless. "I'd... I'd... forgotten... forgotten us."

I placed my free index finger on her lips, murmuring, "Hush," then got down onto my knees, between my friend's parted thighs. Emily reached and gripped each leg behind her knee, opening herself to me. Neither the symbolism nor the enhanced access was lost on me.

Much as I ached to dive into her, to savor Emily's evocative aroma and taste, another need was rising in me, and I knew I could deny it no longer. Tears formed in my eyes as I blurted out, "I love you, sis. I'll always love you."

My reward was her crooked smile, and the two words, "I know."

"Fucking nerd!" I exclaimed, before slipperily withdrawing my fingers, and burying my eager tongue as deeply in my lover's throbbing depths as I could.

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

As I had fallen asleep, cradled in Amy's arms, I had briefly considered that I might wake to a panic attack and even raging guilt. It had been some time now, but you never really leave that shit fully behind you. Instead, my consciousness slowly drifted to the surface, my mind calm, my body feeling radiant, at ease with the world.

And then I heard it, a muffled - but distinct - yelping, as if some lap dog was being periodically tortured. Opening my eyes, I saw Amy, wide awake and propped up on pillows, scrolling on her phone. I took a moment to appreciate - yet again - the precision engineering and artistic elan of her near perfect breasts; if only I knew how to use a chisel.

"Hey, sleepyhead, or is that sleepy-from-head?" Amy's smile was as warm as it was dazzling.

"Hey, sis. What the fuck is that noise?"

Amy theatrically pondered, finger on her dimpled chin. "I think... though maybe some of the details are a little fuzzy... I think it's probably a petite brunette, with more freckles than you, who's being drilled by a fucking machine, while in Velcro restraints."

"Huh?" I said, articulately.

"It's coming from 709," replied Amy, "I'm taking a guess that neither Freya, nor - who was the Marylin Monroe clone again?"

"Cynthia," I replied.

"Yeah, her. I'm guessing neither of them sound like that. Oh... and for reasons I can't really fathom, there's a connecting door - locked of course - with... and you won't believe this... with a peephole in it."

"No!" I said in disbelief.

Amy nodded, a grin on her face. "Take a look yourself; do you need a step stool?"

I glared at her. Never in the history of lesbian relationships had so much fuss been made about two inches height difference.

"I'll manage," I huffed.

Rather embarrassingly, I had to go on tip-toes to look through the lens. What I saw was a bed, with Katie on all fours, a gleaming metal rod pistoning in and out of her pussy. I took a connoisseur's interest in the restraints, kinda similar to the 'baby' ones Alex and I had fooled around with. Nothing like the heavier duty cuffs I had been accustomed to back in the day.

Cynthia was kneeling close to her friend, rubbing Katie's clit in a manner that was intended to be either comforting or stimulating; it was hard to tell which. Cyn was nude and her breasts were certainly something to see. I was used to assuming that you could make five sets of my modest mammaries from the average woman's tissue. I half thought you might be able to make one complete Emily from Cynthia's watermelon-like rack.

I felt a slight breeze by my ear, and realized that Ames had joined me. "Wishing it was me doing that to you, sis?"

I grunted noncommittally. Then moaned with rather more interest as I felt my friend's fingers between my legs.

She whispered in my ear, "Remember that time when Rian combined two drills, with a dildo on each?"

I had been so serenely relaxed when I woke. The scene I was watching, plus both Amy's words and fingers, were turning my body thermostat up to 'high.'

"We could go join them," breathed my digitally gifted friend.

"Mmm..." was my eloquent reply. No one had fingers quite like Amy.

"Who's the tattooed bitch?" she inquired.

I'd prefered Amy focusing on my clit, and replied with a little annoyance, "I haven't the faintest idea."

"I thought you knew these people," teased Amy.

I felt it was time for a Literotica lesson. "Do you have any idea how many stories are posted daily?"

Amy shrugged.

"Up to three hundred, sometimes even four hundred," I continued with some asperity. "I obviously haven't read all of them."

"OK," said Amy. "So, about joining them...?"

"But we are meant to be at the meet and greet, right?" I replied.

"Oh that. It started an hour ago. I thought you needed to sleep."

"What I need is a shower. Maybe join me? The session downstairs is going to continue for a while yet."

"Sure," said Amy.

I took her arm as she moved toward the bathroom. "And Ames..."

"Yeah...?"

"I love you too."

She smiled at me.

"Go on," I urged, "say it."

That provoked an eye roll that struck me as very Central European. But it also yielded a grudging, "I know... and I indulge your hobbies way too much."

I slapped her still nude ass. "Hey Star Wars isn't a hobby, it's a way of life."

"I know, and you just love riding Master Alex's saber, right?"

Giggling like the two teens we had once been together, we went to get washed.

???????? ???????? ????????

The underground ballroom was busy. Its decor was maybe a little dated; low ceiling, rather too much gold and red, but I guessed all that was kinda beside the point. I'd assumed that these were Emily's acquaintances, but she had disabused me of the notion. The attendees weren't authors, they were the authors' creations; albeit with a few overlaps, like my friend herself.

When I asked her who people were, I got a hissed, "I have no fucking clue; look at their name tags."

A plastic card hung from my neck on a lanyard. It read, 'Amy Stevens,' no mention of 'Byrne,' and that my 'creator' was 'EmilyMiller,' with no space. Yeah, that was super weird, but whatever.

I leaned and whispered in Emily's ear, "So you don't know anyone here?"

She wrinkled her nose in a way that made me want to kiss her. "Well... there's Freya. And... well, there were two people I was looking out for. They are in a friend's story series. Listen, this is strange for me too, OK?"

"Right..." I replied, not quite believing that we were now looking for two fictional characters. "So, what do they look like, and do they have names? Do they even know you are looking for them?"

"It's... complicated," she replied.

My experience was that things often were with Emily. I waited patiently for her to explain.

"You know my friend, the guy who I work with on stories?" she continued.

"Yeah, DJ-whatever. The smell-obsessed guy, right? Is he gonna be here?"

"Yeah, him. And no. He's not really in any of his stories, well... not officially anyway. But... well... I was kinda hoping two of his characters might be here."

"It's not Cozbi is it? She's bitchin'. Why don't you write fun characters like that?"

Emily ignored my second question, and looked confused about my first. "I... I don't know if supernatural characters are allowed, I'd... I'd have to ask Freya I guess."

"OK," I said, a little disappointed, "no Cozbi, then. I'd have loved to meet her. So who is it?"

Emily replied, "It's a pair of people, a couple... at least I think so."

"You think, Em? Christ!"

"Well, I... I didn't finish all the stories..."

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised.

"OK?" she said. "I know... I'm a bad friend, but..."

"But you're much too busy having Alex sodomize you, when he's not taking boudoir photos that is. I know the drill. You're crap at returning my messages as well."

Emily blushed again and it was hard to be too angry with her. Maybe married life, and parenthood, had mellowed me.

"So... the maybe / maybe not, couple...?" I inquired.

"Jenna. Jenna and Tommy. I... I might have a bit of a girl crush on Jenna." A thought clearly occurred to Emily. "And she's got red hair, just your type."

Patiently I replied, "I'm not with Madison because of her hair color. How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"I know," grinned Emily, much happier, "I just think it's funny how I paired you with a fictional redhead and life imitated art before I finished the story. And I know her name isn't Madison, any more than my husband is called Alex, but we have to respect the literary milieu, OK?"

My head was spinning. Emily was right. Neither Madison nor Alexander were the right names. This had been bothering me. Now that she said it, I also knew it was true. But why hadn't I known before? I began to suspect that this was Emily's dream, not mine. Or maybe it was just the bizarro way she mixed fact and fiction in her stories that was causing the confusion.

I had to ask, "And our names?"

"Don't be so silly, sis. It's always been Amy and Emily. Now help me find Tommy and Jenna."

I put my arm on my hip, my head on one side, and waited for the penny to drop. With Emily it sometimes took a while.

"Oh, right, what they look like, sorry," she said sheepishly.

"It's OK, Em, I'm used to how your brain doesn't work. So tell me..."

"Right, Jenna has red hair, like I said, it's mid-length and wavy. She's kinda average height, perhaps a little taller than you. Freckles. More than me, perhaps like Katie, but with very light skin. She's an art student, or maybe she's graduated now, I..."

"You didn't finish the stories, I know," I interjected.

"Yeah. Let's assume twenty-something, shall we? And she's skinny, but not as boyish as me."

"Will you ever drop your fucking 'boyish' crap? Do I have to spank you?"

"Maybe later," replied Emily, with utter seriousness.

'Oh Em, you never change,' I thought silently. Out loud, I asked, "What about the guy, Tommy, right?"

"Yeah, Tommy. Older, in his fifties. Handsome, but doesn't know it. Tall, nice body, with a few miles on the clock."

"Got it. You mean like those two?"

I pointed behind Emily and she swivelled to where the back of a red headed woman, wearing a green gown, could be seen as she spoke to a taller guy. They seemed very much together.

"Yeah, that could be them. Let's go see. Is my dress OK?"

We'd both worn party dresses, neither of which were on the long side. As was her habit, Emily began to pull at her hem. For someone who I'd joined in the most depraved sexual acts, my friend sure could be self-concious.

"Leave your dress alone, it's fine. Let's go talk to them."

I took Emily's hand and we approached the pair.

????‍???? ????‍???? ????‍????

"Well this is kinda exciting, isn't it?"

I sipped my white wine and looked around me, waiting for Tommy's reply. When none came, I turned back to him, a quizzical expression on my face. "You OK, cowboy?"

Tommy looked uncomfortable, and pulled at his tie. I'd done it perfectly for him, and now he'd messed it all up.

"You OK?" I repeated as I pushed his hands away and expertly looped the material again.

"Yeah, I'm fine, darlin'," Tommy replied. "It's just... Well, it kinda feels like we are back at the swingers club. Just wondering what is expected of us, or if this is gonna turn into some sort of orgy."

"Getting stage fright?" I teased.

"Yeah. No. I... I dunno. Maybe."

"Such a silver tongue; you'll have every woman here wanting you at this rate," I deadpanned.

"Huh?"

He was still so easy to mess with. "I'm just yanking ya chain," I grinned. Going up on my tiptoes, I whispered in his ear, "I sure think your tongue is magic, anyway."

Tommy looked both embarrassed and pleased, a glow forming on his cheeks. Sometimes he was just too adorable.

As I was already in the vicinity, I took the opportunity to kiss him. Clearly Tommy was feeling a little more relaxed, as demonstrated by his hand cupping my ass and squeezing as we smooched. Inclining my head slightly, I purred softly, "I think I left my panties in the room."

I'd thought this could just be the venue to indulge in a little PDA+, and felt the familiar tingle of exhibitionist anticipation rising in me. I might have gone so far as to move Tommy's hand so that he could confirm my absence of underwear if a loud cough hadn't interrupted us.

Turning, I saw two women, older than me, if not by much. The blonde one was kinda cute, in an awkward way, but the taller brunette was stunning.

I checked their IDs before greeting them. "Emily and Amy? Nice to meet you. I'm Jenna, and this is Tommy, my boyfriend."

We shook hands - I'd have preferred to kiss cheeks, but no rushing these things I supposed. Noticing their rings, I asked, "You two married?"

"Yeah," replied the blonde. A strange and rather sad expression passed over her face before she added under her breath, "Just not to each other."

Trying to fill what had become an awkward silence, I inquired, "Do we, um, know each other?"

Emily replied. "Not as such, no. But I know DJ pretty well."

This confused me. "Who?"

Amy lifted my convention card and turned it toward me. Steangely enough, it was the first time I'd actually truly examined it. It read, 'Jenna Sinclair - Creator: Djmac1031.' What?

I turned to Tommy. "I thought the reason we were invited was because you had taken my suggestion about writing some of our adventures down as stories. Who's this DJ guy?"

Tommy shrugged, he apparently wasn't going to be too helpful.

Amy touched my arm. "Hey, it's confusing, right? Look at this," she pointed at her own ID. "I'm meant to be her creation, as if!"

With a bright smile, she added, "If you ask me, don't think about it too much. Instead ask yourself why you are here."

I did as Amy suggested. Frankly, she was so pretty that if she had asked me to do a handstand I'd have done it, despite the panties situation. In fact, deep down I was ready to flash both of them in hopes they'd be... interested... in becoming better acquainted.

I looked over at Tommy. "We're here because... Well, the invitation sounded intriguing. We'd just recently visited a swinger's club, and, well, we really enjoyed watching other people fuck and..."

Tommy completed my sentence. "And we both have a bit of an exhibitionist / voyeur kink. And I kinda adore watching Jenna have sex with other women; well just one other woman so far, to be accurate. Although," he added with a note of sadness, "our regular playmate has just found herself a boyfriend."

"We both love fucking other women," said Emily with great earnestness. "Would you like to watch us fuck Jenna? Assuming Jenna is cool with that, of course."

"Smooth, sis," said Amy, "so smooth."

There was something about this pair, I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew I wanted them to put their fingers on me. "Of course I'm cool with it," I replied, starting to hike up my already short skirt. "Right here, or...?"

Amy grinned, her eyes now focused on what I had deliberately teased. "You two are the exhibitionists, alright. But I think Em and I might prefer a little privacy. We have a suite."

And, as simply as that, we agreed to get to know each other better. It felt a bit strange, like my and Tommy's defenses were down, and our openness to new experiences was dialed to the max. Perhaps that's what normally happens at these conventions. To be honest, I'd never been to one before. But it also felt like we were having our actions guided by some unseen hand. Still, if the hand wanted us to hang out with Amy and Emily, I was more than OK with that.

The four of us quickly found ourselves in the elevator, heading for the seventh floor. I was desperately trying to keep my hands off of our two new friends. Looking at Tommy, I had my suspicions that he was engaged in the same silent struggle.

????‍???? ????‍???? ????‍????

After Amy had showed us into the spacious living room, I suddenly felt the need to talk to my boyfriend. "Um... could we... just have a couple of minutes? Is that OK with you?"

"Sure," said Amy magnanimously. "There's Champagne in the bucket, help yourselves. Em and I will go get... er... changed. Knock on the bedroom door when you are ready, OK?"

With that, they retired, whispering conspiratorially.

"What is it darlin', is there a problem?" asked Tommy as soon as the door had clicked shut.

"No problem. It's just, well... we haven't discussed boundaries." Even as I said it, I realized how odd this was. We'd always talked, talked openly. We had always figured out what we wanted in advance before we ventured into these situations.

"Sure, okay, boundaries," said Tommy, breaking me out of my thoughts. "How about just doing whatever you want, darlin'?"

"Thanks," I replied. "Well it's kinda worked out that you're cool with me being with other women, but not other men. And I'm cool you watching me with other women, but not with you fucking anyone else."

"I never wanted to..." Tommy interrupted, but I cut him off.

"Of course you did, you're human, just like anyone else. You're a good human, who cares about others, but don't tell me you have never felt the urge. Don't lie to me, you know I'll be able to tell."

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. "Well, when you put it like that, sure, I guess. But..."

"But you love me," I said, smiling, "I know, I love you too. It's just..."

"Just what darlin'?"

"I dunno. This weekend, everything feels different, like it's a dream or something. It feels like maybe the normal rules don't apply. Do you feel it too?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, it's like... like maybe we're in a choose your own adventure, but it doesn't matter as it's just a book, and anyway all the paths lead somewhere good."

"I never knew you were a philosopher," I grinned and couldn't resist a warm kiss. "I'm just gonna say it. I think our boundaries are sensible, they work, and we have them for a reason. But two things. One, I feel guilty that I get to play and you don't. That doesn't seem fair. And two, I have this overwhelming feeling that it doesn't matter."

"What happens in D. C. stays in D. C., something like that," Tommy mused.

"Something like that, but more, like it really doesn't matter. I... I... if you want to, I think I'd be OK with you... oh say it Jenna!... if you want to fuck Amy, then that's OK."

"Or Emily?"

"Or Emily," I confirmed.

There was a silence, and I used it to quickly add, "So long as I can watch, OK?"

Tommy pondered for what seemed like a minute or so. "OK, I get the same vibe, like nothing can hurt us, or damage our relationship. But..."

"What, Tommy?"

"But this isn't the new normal, OK? It's just this weekend, then back to the status quo, agreed?"

I held out my hand. "That's exactly what I feel. Agreed!"

Our handshake turned into a kiss, and then I went and knocked on the bedroom door. "We're ready, thanks."

When Amy and Emily rejoined us, it was quite some entrance. Gone were the sexy party dresses, replaced by even sexier lingerie: Matching black outfits; diaphanous bras, thongs and garter belts, sheer stockings, and the highest heels I had ever seen.

As I stared in astonishment, I was aware of moisture beginning to leak out of my naked pussy. Looking at Tommy, I could see the fire in his eyes matched my own. What had been a theoretical discussion was now all too real. And I felt... good. Better than good, even. In fact I felt fucking awesome.

Emily was closer so I grabbed her, forcing my tongue into her mouth, not that much force was necessary. Breaking momentarily, I glanced at Tommy, and feeling certain that it would all be OK, I told him, "Go ahead, she wants you."

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

Though Jenna had little clue who I was, I knew a lot about her, and had yearned for this moment as much as you could yearn about a fictional character. But here she was, flesh and blood, and an urgent, probing tongue. It wasn't that I had forgotten about my husband, he was with me always, but I somehow knew it was all OK and that I didn't need to worry. Again I had the sensation that my actions were being shaped by some external agency. Whoever they were, they had excellent taste in women.

As Jenna kissed me, I gripped her pert ass. Feeling no underlying fabric, I raised her dress and squeezed her firm and rubbery youthfulness. Fuck she was hot. I side-eyed Ames and she happened to be replicating my surreptitious peripheral glance. Tommy had his face buried in her neck, seemingly imbibing my friend's aroma, in an almost vampiric act of worship. I knew the feeling all too well.

I winked, she winked back, and we both went back to focusing on the person in our arms.

???????? ???????? ????????

I was a confirmed lesbian. Sure I'd fooled around with guys in college, mostly wrapping them in neat circles enclosing my little finger. And I had had no objections to either fellatio or cunnilingus with Emily's close friends - my own friends too, really - so long as penetration was off the menu (I made an exception when it was my strap-on doing the penetrating of course).

I was also a married woman and - let's stick with calling her Madison - was my soulmate, even more so than Emily. But that didn't seem to matter now. Instead I was swept up by the same laissez faire attitude that seemed to have taken over the others. Maybe the whole convention was being bathed by a Martian Slut Ray, beamed from a mother ship hovering above the hotel. Or perhaps our drinks had been laced with something that annihilated inhibitions.

Whatever the reason, Tommy's passionate kisses had my motor running in a way few men had ever achieved. Few women either come to think of it. I stroked the very promising bulge in his pants, not out of any sense of obligation, but with raw desire. What had I told Em? 'Go with the flow, Amy!'

My own flow was only increased by the sensation of Tommy's fingers massaging my barely covered crotch. I was sighing. Sighing at the touch of a man. And it felt OK, it felt much more than OK.

????‍???? ????‍???? ????‍????

Emily's hand had moved from the rear of my body to the front, and I shivered at the first contact of her fingers on my throbbing clit. This was new and different. Being with Trish had been lovely, but we had both been figuring stuff out. Emily already knew exactly what she was doing.

She stopped kissing me and we looked into each other's eyes. "As I said, I know you, Jenna. You sure about this?"

Something about Emily being so careful about getting my consent super-charged my already burgeoning excitement. It dispelled the last of my fears, and I knew with certainty that this was all good. Smiling, I answered her by pulling my dress up and over my head. I'd not bothered with a bra either.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Emily, the intensity of her desire deepening her already gravelly voice.

She leaned forward and whispered, "I never got the freckles thing, used to hate my skin, but you make me see the attraction." I thought I must be blushing furiously.

With that, Emily got on her knees in front of me, and looked up with her strange, gray-blue eyes. "Wanna check with him?" she mouthed silently, tilting her head toward the other two.

I looked over at my boyfriend. Amy was in the same position as Emily, and she had already unzipped Tommy's pants. He seemed to sense my gaze and turned toward me, clearly seeking my permission. Knowing how he constantly over thinks things, decided that I needed to give him total clarity.

"Amy, I want you to suck Tommy. Suck him until he's almost there. Then I want him to fuck you, and I want to be next to you both as he fills your pussy with his cum."

Feeling slightly embarrassed by my sudden boldness, I looked back at Emily, "We can coordinate that, right?"

She nodded eagerly, her girlish enthusiasm making her look more early twenties than early thirties.

"I like a gal who speaks her mind," laughed Amy. She then became unable to speak further due to a large obstruction in her mouth.

Emily placed an index finger against her cheek and pouted. She had clearly practiced the look. "Do you like watching how much Amy is enjoying Tommy's cock? Your boyfriend is a lesbian converter now."

With a slurping noise, Amy pulled off and directed a, "Fuck you, Miller!" at her friend, before taking Tommy deeply again.

"Williams," laughed Emily, then turned back to me. With a crooked smile, she slipped two fingers into me. I was so wet that she quickly added a third. I gasped at the delicious feeling.

"You like that?" she teased.

I nodded, whimpering slightly.

"You like me fingering you while Ames blows Tommy. Wanna have a race?"

Again I nodded eagerly.

Emily extended her pink tongue and moved her head toward my body, eyes still riveted on me. By touch - and presumably experience - she found my hood with her other hand, and pulled on the flesh so that her tip connected with my erect clit. At that first touch, I knew - no matter how good a fellator Amy might be - that I was going to cross the finish line first.

Emily seemed to know as well, and began to lap urgently at me while thrusting her fingers rapidly in and out of my soaking vagina.

???????? ???????? ????????

It had been a while for me. I'd not sucked cock since Emily and I gave Rian a memorable thirtieth birthday present back in college. But it wasn't as if I had no clue. I mean, how hard is it? Most guys cum just at the visuals, never mind the technique.

Tommy seemed like a nice guy, maybe lacking in a little confidence, but that was kinda endearing. Part of me did wonder what on Earth I was doing being all heterosexual, but the weekend was clearly like that. If I was gonna suck cock, at least Tommy's cock was one worth sucking.

I asked myself, 'What would Emily do?' The obvious answer was take him deeper, though I doubted my untrained throat would be able to accomodate too much more of Tommy's considerable length. Let's try, I thought bravely.

As I was about to start sliding Tommy further into me, a squealing sound assailed my ears. I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw Jenna, lids clamped shut, her hands twisted in Emily's blonde hair, body shaking. Not just shaking, spasming. I had benefited from the magic of Emily's tongue myself not so long ago, and could only imagine what havoc my friend's expertise was wreaking on the inexperienced young woman.

I pulled off of Tommy, still jerking him slowly, and decided to take a leaf out of the Miller playbook of potty mouthed talk. "Look, Tommy. Jenna's such a slut! See how hard Emily is making her cum? Just think how wet her little pussy is." Remembering Tommy's kinks (how did I suddenly know about that?), I added, "Just imagine how she smells and tastes, how creamy Emily's fingers have made her."

Figuring that Jenna was ready, I took a deep breath and added, "Sucking you has made me very wet as well. And Jenna said you had to fuck me. Do you want to fuck me, Tommy?"

Tommy seemed to be struggling with speech. In fact he looked totally lost. I wondered if this was too much for him. Frankly I wondered the same about myself. The last guy to penetrate me had been David, God knows how many years ago.

Then I saw Emily stand and take the still trembling Jenna's hand. She led the younger woman toward us, saying, "You want to tell Tommy anything?"

Jenna's voice was warbling as she spoke, but her words could not have been any clearer. "Lay Amy on the bed, then you are gonna fuck her. I'll guide you into her myself. I want you to do this."

Despite the quivering state that my friend had reduced her to, Jenna's mind was obviously still working fine, and - by the way she grinned - I could tell a bad thought had crossed it.

"If you are a good boy," she continued, "I'll drink your cum out of Amy's pussy, while Emily licks your cock clean."

Jenna clasped her hand to her mouth, shocked at what she had just vocalized. Tommy's eyes were on stalks and his cock throbbed crazily in my hand. I thought he might cum there and then.

Emily slapped Jenna's ass, causing her to shriek. "Atta girl, we'll make a nasty cumslut of you yet," my friend grinned.

Then her tone changed, care creeping into her voice. "You totally sure, Jenna?"

Jenna took a calming few breaths, then practically lit up the room with her grin. "Yeah, totally sure. Let's do it!"

???????? ???????? ????????

I found myself trembling as I got onto the bed, lying on my back near the edge. Emily removed my soaking panties and offered them to Tommy. He held them to his nose, inhaling deeply, and my aroma seemed to dispel any remaining fears.

Jenna embraced him and Tommy dropped his hand so that they could kiss. She said something to him, but the words were inaudible. Then she bent and placed a kiss on her boyfriend's cock before leading him to me. By the look on Tommy's face, it was a close run thing who was the more apprehensive, him or me.

Then I felt Emily's lips on my brow, and her fingers caressing my vulva, and I began to relax.

She breathed, "You'll be fine," into my ear, and then - it was Emily after all - she couldn't resist biting my lobe, in a way that made me squirm.

Tommy now stood between my legs, his expression still trance-like. Jenna looked at me and I gave her a silent thumbs up. She squatted and took her boyfriend's cock, tilting it down and - as she had promised - steering his head, still wet with both pre-cum and my saliva, toward my opening.

Emily left off her stroking and used two hands to part me. Jenna eased Tommy forward and his glans touched my flesh. She rubbed him up and down my now throbbing hole, while Emily turned her digital attention to my clit. I closed my eyes and let the sensations flow over me.

I heard a voice saying, "Slide it in," only to realize it was my own.

I felt a pressure, heard Jenna say, "Go on, she wants you. I want you to fuck her."

Then Tommy was inside me. I felt the unaccustomed fullness and stretching, as if something was pulling on my insides. "Oh my fucking God," I moaned both quietly and involuntarily.

Opening my eyes, I found Emily had started to suck and lick my clit, while Jenna had positioned herself behind Tommy and was gently pushing him deeper into me. I fixed on Tommy's eyes and recognized the uncertainty. It wasn't just the other two who could be both reassuring and provocative. "That's it Tommy, let Jenna push you into me. Mmm... such a nice cock, filling me so well. But, Tommy. I really want to taste Jenna too. Will you be a good boy and fuck me while she comes and sits of my face?"

I was nowhere near as bashful as Jenna, but I knew I was also giving myself a pep talk, telling myself that I could do this.

Despite his altered mental state, Tommy was still capable of following instructions. He pushed forward, and I gasped as I took his full length. Now Jenna was on the bed, kissing me, then straddling my head. When she lowered her creamy vagina to my face, my tongue was ready, and I began to get lost in a world of female scent and womanly sapidity. As Tommy started to thrust in and out of me, I gripped my legs and tilted my pelvis, welcoming the novel intrusion into my most intimate viscera.

The smell of Jenna's essence filled my nostrils as her juices seeped into my mouth. Her vulva felt warm against my face.

Lower, Emily's tongue was once more weaving its spell. And, above all this, Tommy was fucking me hard and fast. The thought that he was lasting an impressive amount of time briefly flitted across my consciousness, but I had too many other urgent sensory inputs to pay much heed to this.

The flames began to flicker in me. Little fires turning into larger conflagrations. The waves of intensity started to build. I let go totally, writhing under Jenna's body, my tongue rigid in her vagina, while Tommy pounded my own pussy relentlessly. And Emily - knowing my needs with exquisite precision - took my clit between her teeth and bit down; softly but firmly.

And the first tsunami hit me - my tongue now withdrawn from Jenna and my animalistic roars humming against her young body - I felt a vibration on my face and, in the midst of my own tectonic orgasm, realized that she was frantically masturbating.

Emily released my clitoris and I could feel her weight move as she addressed Tommy. "Cum for her now, pump Amy full of semen."

Jenna was yelling and I gripped her thighs and pulled her to me, once more probing her lingually. With ongoing encouragement from Emily, Tommy didn't hold back. My body shuddered with the force of his impact and the room echoed with the slap of our bodies colliding. And I knew I was heading for my own mountain top again. Years of familiarity alerted Emily to the same, and she began to rub my clit hard.

Jenna was moaning and grinding her vulva onto my face as her fingers played on her clit. And then she stiffened, gave an impassioned yelp, and her juices flowed into my mouth. Only seconds later, Tommy thumped into me so very hard, and remained at his maximum penetration. I felt the twitching and pulsing of his cock as he released into me. Emily doubled her manual frequency, and I arched up off of the bed as a second, and deeper, climax ripped through my convulsing body.

For a moment it felt like all four of us were levitating in space, held up only by some unseen orgiastic force. And then we collapsed into a human ball of intertwined limbs, covered in sweat and different forms of ejecta. Breathing heavily and hearts pounding.

For a while, we could say nothing. Then a familiar voice was raised. "I'm sure this is lovely for you all, but someone else needs to cum, what are we gonna do about that?"

Slowly, but purposefully, we disentangled ourselves. I looked at Jenna's flushed face and said, "Did you want to, you know, do what you said earlier?"

She shook her head. "I was just talking big. I think I'm good. But... let's look after Emily, shall we?"

And so that's what the three of us did.

????‍♀️ ???????? ????‍????

— Epilogue —

We'd decided to retire early. It had been a long day. Amy and I were tired from travelling, and all four of us had experienced an energetic evening. The suite had two bedrooms; we took one and Jenna and Tommy the other. As Amy had said sotto voce to me, "He might snore."

My best friend crashed quickly. She had received rather more attention from the other two than me, then I was kinda used to being in her shadow. But, for some reason, I was wakeful. I did what I usually did when I couldn't sleep, I wrote.

There was a piece I had been working on, a kinda complex one, involving crossovers and fantasy elements, blending with other parts that reflected real life. My normal mess, I suppose.

I woke my phone. Amy shifted and said something unintelligible in her sleep. But then she settled down again. I reviewed my text; making adjustments, adding a few things, deleting parts that no longer pleased me, etc. I yawned, feeling sleepy now. About half way through, I estimated. I'll just finish the edit, then go to sleep...

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

I woke. It was still dark, but I could just about make out the figure of Amy next to the bed. She was pulling on one of her expensive dresses. My friend seemed to realize that I was looking at her and whispered, "Go back to sleep, sis. I just gotta go meet a vengeance demon. Love you always."

My rather confused consciousness toyed with the words, 'Vengeance demon,' for a while, before I realized that I was just dreaming. Ignoring the typical oneiric incongruity, I slipped back into deep, dreamless oblivion.

????‍♀️ ????‍♀️ ????‍♀️

I woke with a start, and my phone went clattering to the floor. Not again, I thought. Light was filtering into the room.

"Hey, what is it, angel? Nightmare?"

What? A man's voice, where was Amy?

"Honey, you OK?"

Not just any man's voice, my husband's. What the actual fuck?

Somehow I managed to stay calm. "Oh, nothing, hun. Just fell asleep reading my phone and managed to drop it on the floor."

I looked at the Echo Dot on the dresser. "It's early, sorry. Go back to sleep."

Thankfully hubby never had to be asked to go back to sleep twice. That man could win an Olympic gold in sleeping. I needed some alone time to work out what was going on. An ultra-vivid dream I assumed, the full Dorothy goes to Oz deal. Sheesh!

I leaned down to grab my phone, trying not to wake my husband, and also trying not to fall out of bed. I still had a little core strength from my rock climbing days, and managed the task without mishap. I lay back on my pillows in triumph, and woke the phone.

Cool! Still working. But what was this? Wallet was open and something blue with what looked like a QR code filled the screen. I picked up my glasses and peered closer.

A United logo was at the top left. At the top right was Flight: UA 1997. Beneath, IAD to EWR. Boards: 9:26 pm. Seat: 37F. Passenger name: Williams / Emily.

I sat blinking, my mind doing an entire gymnastic floor exercise, followed by the uneven bars.

Closing Wallet, I opened my contacts...

Freya Gersemi: (771) 314-1592

Fuck!

Swapping to Google Docs, I loaded my latest story, and stared at the title for some minutes:

Unconventional

by Emily Miller

I clearly needed to do a lot more work on it.

THE END

— — —

Endnotes

I guess I don't normally say this, but thanks for reading. If you feel like rating this story, please do, but what I appreciate most is comments. What you liked, what you didn't, and so on. Hopefully I'll hear from you ????.

While there are some real life elements in this story, and some real people, it should be evident that it's a fabricated fantasy. That's my understanding of the Literotica Convention vibe that Freya has come up with.

Amy isn't married IRL, though she does have a girlfriend who apparently has red hair. I've not met the lady. I coincidentally attributed this characteristic to her "love interest" in another story before I even knew that the woman existed.

If you want to understand the "vengeance demon" reference toward the end, then check out Djmac1031's story for the same event when it is published.

On top of letting me borrow Jenna and Tommy (and Cozbi indirectly), thanks, as always, to my good friend, Djmac1031, for reading as I wrote and editing when I stopped. For this story, he also added a few Jenna touches here and there, which made things truer to his character.