Infatuation (PLL Emison AU)

Crash and Burn

A/N: Got a comment on another site about the Golden Girls thing, and I think it should be shared because it made me lol. Who is Alison in the Golden Girls? Shoutout to mustangmir for "Blanche, but instead of men it's murder." But Packersgirl492 has a point about Alison's sarcastic commentary ala Dorothy.

*continues to beg for reviews even though it's unbecoming of me to do so*

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Chapter 24:

Crash and Burn

Three bodies had been found in the bunker.

Noel, who was badly decomposing when they found him. And two women.

One was a blonde with blue eyes. Same as the others that had been killed.

The new addition was a young female of Asian descent. She had dark hair, brown eyes, and tan olive skin. She was Emily's height and weight, but her face was too swollen to identify.

Toby panicked because the girls looked so much like Emily and Alison. The first thing he'd done was scramble to get in touch with her.

She didn't answer.

She was too busy devouring every last inch of her bride.

The room was filled with soft cries of pleasure. Alison scratched at the oversized nightshirt clinging to her body...Emily's shirt, her scent.

She felt the fluctuation of heat and the juxtaposition of her clothed upper-half in contrast to having nothing else on.

She had lost count of how many orgasms she'd had. But she wanted more. She closed her eyes as a new peak of pleasure hit her.

"Right there, Em." She huffed out.

The comforter moved and Emily peered out from beneath it, watching her as she felt her...as she tasted her.

Alison's body stiffened and then relaxed. She clenched one fist into the high thread count sheets. Her other arm was draped over her sweat-drenched forehead as she panted to catch her breath.

Emily slid up against her body, feeling the tiny little aftershocks of Alison's orgasm. She lazily trailed her slick fingers up underneath the nightshirt.

A flash from the nightstand interrupted her. She caught a glimpse of her phone screen.

9 missed calls. 34 missed texts.

"Christ." Emily grumbled.

"Maybe it's important." The blonde tried her very best to sound like a doting wife instead of saying what was on her mind.

I want to rip your partner's intestines out and strangle him with them so we can get back to our marathon Orgasm-athon.

Emily sighed, placing her hot palm against Alison's cheek. She kissed her on the forehead and rolled towards the stand to grab her phone.

"What the fuck, Cavanaugh? Sending you to voicemail is equivalent to a sock on the door. I'm busy."

She should have known that he wouldn't have bothered her unless it was important. She was just too clouded by hormones to think clearly.

She expected him to bark back at her, but after she answered she heard the relief in his voice.

"Emily, thank God."

She scowled at the phone as she sat up against the edge of the bed, letting the covers slip from her partially nude body. Her legs were bare up to her pelvis, exposing all the little love nips Alison had left on her thighs.