of Isa like yesterday’s rubbish. My heart bleeds every time I think back to what Isa wrote in that book. I wonder if Louis ever did those things with Emily, too. God, I can’t think this way. Emily would never watch as her husband fucked other women in front of her like Isa did with him. Emily bloody ran away from him when she saw him at a hotel with one of his whores. He would never allow his dirty pack of mates to do the things he let them do to Isa in front of him. My sister vividly described what kind of events he orchestrated to get himself off. Acid rises, burning at my throat as I get myself all worked up yet again. Isa let him do anything he wanted in the hopes of being the chosen one, and in the end, he chose Emily, a young, innocent girl who’d never even had a boyfriend before him. He no doubt tainted every inch of her. I wish I could go back in time and save them both from the fucking devil known as Louis Bruel.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even notice how the hours are passing me by. I look down at my phone and it’s almost seven PM. I stand up to stretch out before sitting back down. I’ve had two bloody salads already. In three short hours, I will see her again. My emotions are all over the place today. I’m afraid that when we do finally see each other, face-to-face, it won’t be what I’ve let myself imagine. I’m worried that maybe it was all one-sided. Perhaps only I felt the intense connection we had that night. Lord, what will I do with myself if she tells me to piss off and leave her alone? What if she’s waiting for me with him to try and make a fool out of me? Maybe Louis will try to humiliate me by having Emily reject me in front of him. That scenario tauntingly plays out in my mind, and yet I know with certainty that I am willing to take that chance, for at least I will go down knowing I’ve told her everything he’s been keeping away from her for years.
I’ve been staring at my phone and at her texts for over an hour. I can’t help but open my photo folder on my iPhone to look through the dozens of pictures we took together that one night. I have one shot that I’ve been wanking off to for the last three weeks. Emily is squeezing her big tits together with her mouth slightly ajar. My fingers are pinching her pink nipples and I can’t stop myself from smiling like a loon. I look up to make sure no one but me is privy to my exclusive Emily show when I see a couple looking right at me. I nod my head and shut my phone at once. I have a full-on boner that I may need to go take care of somewhere privately. I look for the loo when the guy and girl from before look straight at me once again. This time the bloke raises his hand and waves at me, I wave back. That’s a bit odd, I ponder to myself. The bird at his side smiles my way before kissing him on the cheek. The fella glances back my way as he leaves, giving me two thumbs up. What in the bloody hell was that all about? I think as my erection still strains at my trousers.
I try to calm my thoughts about Emily and her tits when a little while later I see another man approach that same poor bird at the bar. Maybe she’s a call girl, I reckon, which does nothing to calm down my dick. I sit back and watch how this beastly old man sits down and watches over her as she writes on her pad. He moves back and checks out her fit arse and then the bloody fool slides his dirty paw up her thigh. The poor girls jumps up in horror and that’s my cue.
I take a few steps towards her and once I’m close enough, I slide my arm around her waist as if I’ve done it millions of times before. She’s tall and seems a bit fragile in my arm as I pull her in close. I lower my head and she smells nice. When she looks up