As we drove through the city, heading for the mountains, Emma asked for my phone number and typed it into her phone. When she was done, she looked over at me and asked, "Do you always white-knuckle hold your steering wheel? Is the city really that bad to drive in? Or are you nervous?"
I loosened my grip on the steering wheel, even took one off it. "Nervous," I said with a laugh.
Emma laughed and said, "Don't be. If I was a serial killer, I would be horrible at it. And if I wanted anything else, I would have said to go home."
"I mean, the night is still young," I joked with her.
"It's not that young," Emma said, shutting down my hopes and dreams.
I drove us up a mountain and pulled onto an overlook, watching Emma's face light up as she looked out over the city. "Yeah, this is amazing. So beautiful. I can see why Brigham Young wanted to stay here."
"If we stayed here long enough, it's a great view for the sunset," I explained to her.
"Yes, it would be. Too bad that's still two hours away. You're not very good at this date thing, are you?"
I laughed as did she before I responded back, "I guess not but I've never taken a woman as beautiful as you are out."
Emma quickly looked away from me, looking outside the window at the city. She bit her lip as she played with her hands in her lap, and her face grew flush. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Sorry," I told her.
"Don't be. That was sweet. You're sweet. I just...I wasn't expecting today. It was great. Really great."
"Yes, it was," I agreed with her.
"But, I don't want to lead you on. I will be going back to London, and soon. I just want to be clear, that whatever we feel now, it's just a flash in the pan," she sternly told me.
"And what are we feeling now?"
As I asked my question, we both turned to face each other. Our eyes looked into each other, searching for an answer, a wanting. Her lips parted slightly as she used her fingers to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face.
As our faces inched towards each other, I could smell the faint citrus of her lotion, see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. "This," she whispered, and before I could ask what she meant, her fingers brushed my cheek, pulling me closer until our lips met together. I was a little surprised at how soft and full her lips were, the passion that she kissed with, the neediness of her movements.
While she had initiated the kiss, I quickly took control, dictating how our heads moved, parting my lips and pushing my tongue against her lips until she consented, letting my tongue into her mouth and our tongues swirled together. Despite having just met the day before, the kiss was full of passion, one that felt like it had been building up for months.
As we made out, after getting over the initial shock of it, I started to think about just how far I could take it. Emma was giving no signs of slowing down, adjusting her body so her knees and legs were fully on the seat and she was leaning over the center console. I moved one of my arms over to her side, placing my hand on her hip and fighting the urge to move it upwards.
We started to alternate between having our tongues swirling together and not, our lips only briefly pulling apart as we kissed. I fought the urge to move my hand up or down, not wanting to do anything to ruin what was happening. I kept repeating in my head, "You're kissing Emma Watson. Do not fuck this up. This is Emma Watson. Enjoy whatever happens. Do not fuck this up. Do not blow in your pants."
Still keeping up the kiss, I moaned into her mouth when her hand moved to my groin, lightly resting on top of my pants. She didn't move it, just barely letting her fingers curl over the outline of my growing cock. I started to move my hand up her side, very hesitant, waiting for any cue from her. Her arm blocked mine from moving too high, but when she felt my fingers pressing against it, she lifted her arm up, and twisted her body to the side, giving me free access. I continued moving my hand up, going up to her chest, inching it over the soft curve of her breast over her T-shirt.
Our tongues touched again as my hand full cupped her breast and I gave it a light squeeze. As I did so, she moaned into my mouth and very slowly moved her hand, still on my cock, up and down.
Pulling her lips from mine, she rested her forehead against me, both of us breathing hard. Her eyes opened, flickering with heat, but her voice was steady. "I'm sorry, Derek... we should stop here."
"Of course," I said, immediately removing my hand from her chest as she took hers off my groin.
Emma moved back down in her chair, sitting again on her butt. "That was amazing. I just, you know, just barely met you."
"I completely understand," I said, looking around and seeing that the overlook was still empty.
"Thank you," she said. "You're a really good kisser."
I laughed and said, "Thank you. I'll take that from you any day."
As I started to pull out of the overlook, Emma told me what hotel she was staying at so I could drive her back there.
The next morning, I woke up to a text message from a weird-looking phone number, one I had never seen before. I quickly figured out that it was Emma as I read, "Hi, Derek, thank you again for an amazing day! I really did have a great time with you and learned so much! And not just about this city. I'm sorry to have left you in a state such as I did. Hopefully it wasn't too painful. Let me know what days you're available to go hiking this week!"
I stared at the message for a few minutes, reading it over and over. Did Emma Watson really just send me a text? Giving me her number? Did I really spend the entire day with her yesterday? Was that kiss real? Her hand touching me? Me touching her? There's no way. And then I reread the message and confirmed that it was real.
I rubbed my eyes as I got out of bed. She had sent the message around midnight. Was six A.M. too early to text back? How should I respond? Part of me wanted to text her back and tell her that I had a boner the entire time I drove her home, as we hugged goodbye, and all the way to my house. I rubbed one out in my garage, thinking of her the entire time. Probably shouldn't tell her that part.
"I had a great time too! I'm free most of this week and for you, I can definitely move things around if needed."
I reread my message back to her before pressing the send button. I made myself some coffee and took a shower after drinking a cup. As I brewed another cup and debated what to do that day, my phone went off and I saw another message from her. "How about tomorrow? We can meet early, go on a hike, and maybe spend the day together again?"
I think I about fainted. Emma Watson wants to spend the day with me? Before I could respond, another text came through. "I would say today, but Susan wants to take me shopping in Park City and get our nails done. So. Much. Fun."
And a third text quickly followed, "I don't know if I should tell you this or not, but I was pretty worked up when you dropped me off last night. I kind of wished we hadn't stopped."
Pretty sure I did faint after that. Did Emma Watson just admit to me that I got her worked up and she didn't want to stop kissing me? What is happening?
We spent the rest of the morning discussing where to go and when to meet before finally settling on a plan right as she left to go shopping with Susan. During our discussion, I received a follow notification on Instagram from her, and was a little surprised, knowing her dislike for social media.
But, what surprised me even more happened a few hours later. The smartwatch on my wrist vibrated and I looked at it to see that I had received two messages from Emma. The first was a picture but the second said, "Is this hike appropriate clothing? I know it's supposed to be pretty hot, but also don't want to fry in the sun."
I reached for my phone, thinking, "I'm grabbing my phone to look at a picture of Emma Watson but not one online and not for my own personal reasons. I'm looking at a picture she sent me."
And as soon as I saw the picture, I knew that part of what I just thought might be a lie. It was her, standing in a dressing room in a store I didn't recognize. In the full-length mirror, Emma was holding up her phone as she snapped the picture. Wearing a simple white, spaghetti-strap tank top that hung tight to her body, really showing off her curves. A little hint of her midriff was visible before a pair of cutoff jean shorts that barely covered anything.
I quickly responded to her, telling her that the trail we were going to was pretty shaded, so that should be fine, and suggested to maybe get a hat, if possible. I went back to look at the picture a little closer, even zooming in on it. Just a little hint of cleavage could be seen, while I dreamed about what was under the jeans. As my eyes roamed over the picture, I did a double take at something in the background, zoomed up on it, then moved back to Emma.
It was dumb and childish, but I was pretty sure she had a black lace bra sitting on a chair that she had just taken off. She clearly didn't have a bra on with the white tank top, and I couldn't see a tag on the crumpled up bra behind her. I don't know why, but the thought of just seeing her bra got me going.
I shook my head to clear those thoughts out as she texted me back, "Thanks! I'm so excited. Need to go find a pair of hiking boots now."
The next day, I was back at Emma's hotel, opening up the passenger door as she met me outside. "Good morning," Emma said as she walked to my mini-SUV and climbed in, setting a hydration pack next to mine in the backseat. The drive to the hiking trailhead took about twenty minutes, during which we talked about her shopping trip the day before and the differences between England and Utah.
Emma did question me why I was taking us to a trail called Desolation Trail, but when I explained to her why it was named that, and the views we would see, she was happy. After we parked, it took us about two hours to hike to the top to see a perfect view of the entire Salt Lake Valley. The entire time we were on the trail, I tried my best not to stare at Emma, wearing the clothes from the day before, but I knew that my eyes and thoughts spent more than a little bit of time wandering to her and not the hike.
"Wow!" Emma expressed as she stared out at the city below us. "What a view!"
I was smiling as I stood behind her, my eyes moving back and forth between the city and her. "It really is. So beautiful."
She turned to me, catching me as I looked at her, and blushed. "I certainly hope you're talking about the city and the mountains."
"What if I'm not?" I teased her, taking a step towards her.
She giggled, putting her head down, and said, "Then I guess I should probably say thank you."
"Good because I wasn't just talking about the mountains."
"Thank you, Derek," she responded, opening her arms up and wrapping them around my waist as I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me.
She turned her face towards the view and said, "Seriously, I can't get over this. It's crazy."
"The view? Or something else?"
Emma pulled away from me and walked over towards the edge of the overlook. I joined her and we just stared out over the city. After a few minutes, I felt her fingers brushing against mine, I opened my hand up, and she curled her fingers up into mine.
"I need a drink and a snack," she said and turned to walk away, going towards where we had put our bags down at. She kept ahold of my hand, dragging me behind her. And I was thrilled she didn't want to let go.
A couple of hours later, just as we were about done with the hike, Emma said that she was hungry and we started to talk about what to do for lunch. As I named off a few possibilities, she finally said, "What if we just went back to my hotel room and ordered room service? It's pretty decent food and no worries about anybody else around."
I caught her eye as she said that last part and saw a certain look in her eyes that made me instantly agree.
As we arrived at her hotel, I walked in with Emma, and wasn't surprised when she took me to one of the top floors of the Grand America Hotel and to one of their executive suites. With marble bathrooms, a king-size bed, and separate dining and living areas, it was basically a mini-apartment, perfect for a celebrity, or anyone really, that needed a place to stay for a couple of weeks. It definitely didn't feel or look like any hotel I had ever been in and felt like a step up in living.
She handed me the menu for room service as she said that she already knew what she wanted. I skimmed it over, told her what I wanted and took a seat on the spacious couch in the living room. Emma joined me a few minutes later and said, "It'll be about twenty minutes, they said."
"Twenty minutes? How are we gonna pass the time?"
"I have one idea," Emma responded, scooting closer to me.
Unlike our first kiss a few days before, this one was a little less passionate. Our hands stayed away from each other, I briefly explored her neck with my lips, and when we pulled away when we heard a knock on the door, we both had a satisfied smile on our faces.
We moved into the dining room area with our lunch, eating while Emma told me stories from her time in Hollywood and why she's taken a step back from it. When we were done eating, I helped Emma clean everything up, before asking, "Did you still want to go to the Natural History Museum?"
"Actually," Emma started with a little hesitation, her British accent instantly mesmerizing me. "I think maybe we should stay in a bit. Maybe continue what we started before lunch."
"Gladly," I responded as she took my hand and led me back into the living room.
"Just to be clear," Emma said, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I'm not ready to go all the way yet, but we can see where this goes. If that's OK with you."
I was about half a foot taller than Emma, but it wasn't so much that it felt natural as I leaned down to kiss her, putting my hands on her hips as we walked back towards the couch.
I sat down on the couch, pulling Emma on top of me. Our lips never left each other as she straddled my lap and she kept her hands wrapped around me. My hands almost immediately started to wander, moving up and down her sides, and my fingers slipping into the underside of her tank top.
"Please don't hesitate," Emma said in between kisses. "Don't treat me any differently than any other girl you've been with. I need to feel it the same as they do."
With that said, I moved my hands up farther under her tank, her soft, bare skin on my fingers, until I brushed the bottom part of her athletic sports bra. I had caught a few glimpses of it while we hiked and knew that it was a beige nude color. The fact that she hadn't felt the need to wear anything special or sexual for me spurred me on even more, even if I wasn't sure if it was because she was just that confident or if she was just that comfortable with me.
Her kissing intensified as I slipped my fingers under her bra, feeling the soft skin of her breasts for the first time. Her bra was stretchy enough that both of my hands easily slipped up into it, taking her breasts into them, and softly squeezing as we continued to make out.
Her breasts weren't the biggest, I wouldn't even call them medium-sized, but they fit into the palm of my hands perfectly as I squeezed them over and over. Her nipples were already taut and hard, rubbing against my hand. All the photos and red-carpet images in the world couldn't compare to having her here, in my hands, warm and alive, having her breasts in my hands, and my mind was once again racing with the thoughts, "This is Emma Watson. I'm kissing her. She's kissing me back. I'm squeezing her boobs. Her groin is rubbing on mine."
"Hmm..." she moaned into my mouth as she rolled her groin on top of mine, pressing against my growing cock.
She ended the kiss, pulling slightly away from me. As her eyes stared deep into mine, I watched as she unwrapped her arms from my neck, grabbed onto the bottom of her tank top, being pushed up by my arms inside it, and pulled it and her bra off over her head in one motion.
I took my hands off her breasts, my eyes clearly focused on them, taking them in for the first time. Emma smiled as she continued to roll her hips and said, "I take it you like the view?"
"Best one I've seen all day," I said, putting my hands back on them, but leaving one of my hands on the underside of her left breast. I leaned forward and started to leave little kisses all over it.
"Hmm," Emma moaned again as I used my tongue to circle around her nipple before I wrapped my lips around it and started to suck on it. "Wow."
While I sucked on one nipple, I used my fingers to pinch and rub her nipple on her right breast. Emma at first moved her hands back to my head, running her fingers through my hair. But, as I switched my mouth over to her right breast, using my tongue and lips on that nipple, Emma moved her hands between us and down to our groins.
"You're so hard," Emma said, using one hand to pull down the basketball shorts I was wearing, as she slipped her other hand inside them, brushing her fingers across my hard cock through my boxers.
"I'd be disappointed in myself if I wasn't," I told her as I kissed back to her left breast and running my tongue across her nipple there again.
We continued like that for the next couple of minutes, me licking and sucking her nipples while Emma softly rubbed the top of my cock through my boxers.
"Your touch is driving me crazy," I told her.
"Driving you crazy? My underwear is soaked," she responded.
I took my hands off her breasts and moved them down to her groin. I quickly unsnapped the button on it and pulled down the zipper. I caught a glimpse of her nude underwear, matching her bra, before moving my hand on top of them, rubbing what I could.
Emma started to move, adjusting her body to lay down on the couch. I moved my mouth away from her breasts as I wrapped my free arm around her body and helped her to lay down. With the shift in positioning, I was able to get my hand more into her shorts, placing more of it over her underwear-covered vagina.
I unwrapped my arm from her body, placing my hand on the couch to support myself as I lay above her. I looked at her face, saw her looking down and watching my hand on top of her groin. "You can touch me down there however you want, but please keep my underwear on," she asked of me.
"Of course," I told her, leaning down to briefly kiss her lips again. Pulling back away from her, I looked down as I slipped my fingers inside, immediately feeling the warmth coming from her.
"Hmm..." Emma moaned again as I traced my fingers down until I felt a neatly trimmed strip of hair that felt deliberate, intentional, undeniably her. "Touch me."
The next sound out of her mouth nearly undid me as my fingers came into contact with her clit. I moved gently at first, attempting to learn what she liked as I made slow circles around her clit. Emma started to roll her hips up and down, guiding my fingers along her clit and pussy.
As I continued to put pressure on her clit, I watched her face shift, her eyes closing as she laid her head down on the pillow, and her mouth hung slightly open to let soft moans out. Her hips started to roll faster, her moans cracking, and her nails dug into me as she held onto my back.
"Yes... just like that," she gasped, clutching at my shirt as she rocked against my fingers. I pressed a little harder, her thighs trembling until she went still, back arching as a low cry escaped her throat.
I held her through it, kissing her cheek as she came down, awed that she had let me see her like that.
"Wow," she said as she slowed her hips and opened her eyes. I kept softly rubbing her pussy, moving down to her lower lips. "That was...needed."