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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 21 May 2002 20:39:27 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Emma - Chapter Six {Bradley Stoke}{FFF}
Date: Wed, 22 May 2002 12:10:03 -0400
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Emma
====

Resume of whole novel
=====================

Emma is no stranger to the world of pornography, working 
as she does for one of the premier sex television stations. Nor is 
she a stranger to the naked body, being a dedicated naturist. However, 
in almost every other way she is naive and innocent. This is the story 
of how she finds herself, and also about the lives of people around her. 
In this novel, soap opera meets sex fiction. 


For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
           (mirror: http://bradley-stoke.fsn.net)

Previously
==========

Charlotte is offered a new job at a naturist branch of the Civil 
Service. Emma and Harriett extend their love for each other to other 
women, including Josephine, a friend of Harriett's.



Chapter Six
===========


Charlotte was very anxious on the first day of her new job: not just 
because of the anxiety of working with new people and finding new 
routines, but also just the concept of working all day with no clothes. 
She had of course been shown round the offices before today and 
knew what to expect. It  was nonsense to say that nudity was 
compulsory. Not everyone working in the branch were naturists, 
although they had to be sympathetic, and even those who took off their 
clothes didn't necessarily take them all off. Despite this, it took little 
time for the oddness to wear off of being in a government office 
surrounded by computer terminals and paper files with naked people. 
Her new supervisor made no mention of clothing policy and only 
discussed the duties Charlotte would be performing. He was however 
totally naked except for a pen dangling over his chest. Undoubtedly 
the work was going to be more tedious than that which Charlotte had 
been doing previously, but this was the penalty that Charlotte had 
expected to pay for the privilege of being a naturist at work. 

One of Charlotte's main anxieties was quite simply what 
clothes to wear on the way to the office. She spent ages the night 
before trying on all combinations of overcoat and jacket. She 
eventually decided to wear only a pair of black swimming trucks and a 
short jacket, but when the morning came and she prepared herself she 
actually found herself putting on exactly what she would normally 
have worn. As she was just about to leave, she thought better of it, but 
only to remove her knickers and bra. "I won't need these," she said to 
herself slyly as she felt the dress against her bare skin. 

She gingerly knocked on Harriett's door to say goodbye to 
Emma, who had insisted she do this so that she could wish Charlotte 
good luck. There was no response, so Charlotte eased open the door to 
see Emma in bed with Harriett and also the tanned naked body of a 
third girl who was in the bed with them. This had been another in the 
series of girls Harriett had started inviting back to practice making 
love with. The night before, Emma confided to Charlotte that she'd 
found Molly a little common for her tastes, but refreshingly open. 
She'd not hesitated in getting down to some serious love-making with 
Emma and Harriett: the artificial tan of her body and bleach-blonde 
hair standing out in contrast to Charlotte's flatmates' more natural skin 
colour.  

It took Charlotte a few moments to be sure, but Molly was 
active in eating Harriett's vagina with Emma beneath exploring 
Molly's raised vagina with her tongue and fingers. Emma looked up 
from what she was doing, her vulva pointing directly towards 
Charlotte. "Are you off now?" she asked Charlotte softly.  

Charlotte nodded and made to leave through the door. "Don't 
leave so fast!" cried Emma who pulled herself up from under Molly 
who was too engrossed to disengage herself and ran up to Charlotte. 
She gave Charlotte a hug and a kiss. "I hope your day goes well!" 

Charlotte's journey was by underground train, and she felt 
nervous that somehow people could see that she wasn't wearing any 
underwear. Other people probably didn't care, and indeed one girl, 
probably a secretary, was quite clearly showing a bare nipple though 
her very low-cut dress. This didn't prevent her from feeling 
self-conscious. Indeed, she was pleased when she could get out of the 
train and walk the hundred yards through the rain and puddles to the 
office. She stood at the escalator doors after showing her pass to the 
doorman, wondering when it would be appropriate for her to take off 
her clothes. When the lift arrived, no one was unclothed there, so she 
stayed fully clothed until she reached the 6th floor and went into the 
reception area. 

"Hello, what do you want?" asked a girl at the reception desk 
who was wearing no clothes at all that Charlotte could see besides the 
petite glasses on her nose. 

"I'm Charlotte. It's my first day here." 

"Charlotte," sniffed the receptionist looking at a list which she 
held up in front of her pert breasts whose nipples stood out. "The new 
girl. Another naturist, I suppose?" 

Charlotte nodded. Although the receptionist was unclothed she 
didn't appear very sympathetic to naturism. 

"You'll be wanting to know where to leave your clothes then," 
the receptionist continued. She stood up and Charlotte could see that 
she in fact was not totally naked but wore some very brief shorts and 
knee-high boots. She was taken to a room marked Private where 
there were coats on hooks and some lockers. "This is your locker," the 
receptionist said pointing at one which was open. "You'll have to 
provide your own padlock I'm afraid. And you must wear clothes if 
you leave the premises." 

Charlotte felt hopeless as she stood in front of the locker. 
"Don't you want to take your clothes off, then?" wondered the 
receptionist. Charlotte smiled pleadingly, but received no sympathetic 
gesture. A little embarrassed, Charlotte removed her jacket and pulled 
off the dress to reveal the naked body underneath. The receptionist 
sniffed again, but made no comment. 

"Right, I'll take you to Bernard who'll show you your desk," 
said the receptionist referring to the supervisor Charlotte had met 
before. 

The rest of the day was spent meeting other members of staff 
and learning about her duties. Most of the staff were men and almost 
all of these were nudists. The main embarrassment Charlotte felt as 
she met all these new men was of avoiding eye-contact with their 
penises. She studiously looked up at their faces and reminded herself 
that as a lesbian men should be the same to her clothed or unclothed. 

There were three other women besides Charlotte based at the 
office. There was Peggy, the receptionist, who was adamant that she 
wasn't a naturist but was nonetheless usually topless and, Charlotte 
was told, would frequently wear nothing at all in warm weather. There 
was Mildred, a late middle-aged women who had the cracked skin of 
years of sunbathing and droopy breasts that flopped over her tight, 
lined, brown belly. There was one woman about Charlotte's age, 
Clarissa, who was plump with a proud round pair of breasts crowned 
with nipples the size of Charlotte's fist. 

Charlotte's desk faced towards a male colleague, Desmond, 
who although a committed naturist almost always wore an open shirt 
so that he could have access to a pen at all times. He was also rather 
shy and had great difficulty at looking at Charlotte's face, let alone 
anywhere else on her body. She looked out on to the street and was 
pleased to see that there were no vantage points where anyone could 
spy on the office. Charlotte had no intention of being the subject of 
anyone's voyeurism. 

Bernard spelt out the rules pertaining to dress at the office 
which was to wear clothes outside of the office and to respect the 
views of any member of the public who didn't actively express a 
willingness to be interviewed by a naked Civil Servant. A white 
overcoat of standard issue was provided in all interview rooms so that 
staff could be dressed in these circumstances, but as Bernard assured 
her, very few people would be coming to this branch without 
expecting to meet some naturist staff.

When 5 o'clock came, Charlotte joined the others by their 
lockers as they got dressed to go home. Bernard stayed at his desk, as 
did Desmond who Charlotte later discovered was very shy of being 
seen putting his clothes back on. Clarissa's locker was right next to 
Charlotte's and she smiled at Charlotte as she put on just a leather 
jacket over her otherwise naked body and pulled on some leather 
knee-high boots. "You going home by yourself, love?" she asked. 

"Yes," admitted Charlotte doing up her own jacket which more 
convincingly hid her smaller beasts than did Clarissa's from which her 
breasts were clearly trying to escape. 

"My boyfriend's picking me up," Clarissa said, "but perhaps 
another night we can go out for a drink after work." 

"That would be very nice," Charlotte admitted, who still felt 
very much a stranger amongst her colleagues. She was sure Clarissa 
wasn't a lesbian herself, but that was all for the best. It was Emma 
who she loved. Her day had been mostly desk-bound, though she 
knew that her job would soon involve meeting the public, of which all 
she'd seen all day were the people in the streets when she'd gone out 
for her lunch-break. She felt sure then, as she felt now, leaving the 
office, that everyone could see her nakedness under her clothes. 

There she goes, she imagined them thinking, when the lift 
stopped on her floor and she joined the other office staff and 
executives already in the lift. You can see she's got no clothes on 
underneath. She's a filthy nudist. She spends all day indulging in the 
perverse pleasure of nudity. And what's more she's a lesbian. She 
loves other women. She's a disgusting, perverted, naked dyke. 

And, Charlotte reminded herself with a wince, a lesbian who 
can't even have sex with the woman she loves above all else. A 
woman for whom she'd sacrifice everything. But a woman who 
nonetheless denies that she's at all gay while forever making love to 
Harriett. And not just Harriett, but any friend that Harriett brings home 
with her. Last night it was Molly. A girl who probably couldn't even 
spell her own name. Will it be Molly tonight? Or some other girl. 

Her bitter thoughts followed her, and distracted her from the 
self-consciousness of her hidden nakedness as she travelled home on 
the underground train, with bodies of men and women squeezed right 
up against her, supporting herself only by the strap. As she hurried up 
the stairs to the surface, she absentmindedly let her breasts fall out of 
her coat, but she hurriedly replaced them, sure that everyone had now 
decided that she was the worst kind of slut. 

It wasn't Molly that Emma was making love to when Charlotte 
came in. In fact, Emma and Harriett weren't making love at all, but 
seemed to just be talking to a girl that was with them. This girl was 
quite short - less than five feet high - and built on a corresponding 
slender model, with breasts barely showing as more than discoloured 
bumps on her breast. Her skin was very pale, and at first Charlotte was 
convinced that this girl was just a school-girl who Harriett had 
persuaded to strip off. In fact when the girl turned round and smiled at 
Charlotte with a sparkle of teeth and deep dark eyes, it was clear she 
was actually an oriental woman, probably in her mid-twenties. 

Emma jumped up and ran up to Charlotte. She grasped 
Charlotte round the shoulders before she had the chance to take her 
coat off. "How was your first day at work?" she asked. "It wasn't too 
frightful was it?" 

"No, no. It was alright. Perfectly alright." 

"They were kind to you, were they?" Emma wondered, a look 
of real concern as she noticed the bitterness that had set into 
Charlotte's face. 

"Oh yes, they were very nice. I'm just not, you know, just not 
used to being nude all day." 

"How peculiar," laughed Emma, who was rarely anything but. 
She showered Charlotte's face with dry little kisses. "Now can you be 
a darling and help us." 

"Of course," volunteered Charlotte with no idea what Emma, 
Harriett and the oriental girl wanted. 

"Meet Susan," said Emma, showing her guest. "She has a 
problem about making love." 

"Yes," explained Susan, who had a slightly foreign enunciation 
to her immaculate English. "All my life I only ever make love when I 
am being watched. That is why I work in sex television, because it is 
the only way I can have a happy love life. And I want to make love to 
both Emma and Harriett..." 

"...And both of us want to make love to her," agreed Emma 
squeezing Charlotte. "Don't we, Harriett?" 

Harriett was holding Susan's shoulders. She gently kissed 
Susan full on the mouth to signal assent. 

"So please, Charlotte," pleaded Emma, "Can you watch Susan 
with us? But don't touch." 

And so on Emma's first evening after a day at her new job was 
spent watching the three girls make love together. Emma seemed 
particularly enthusiastic. More enthusiastic in her passionate love with 
Susan than Emma had ever seen with Harriett. Her cries of passion 
were louder and fuller than she'd ever heard before. Is it Susan who 
makes her so passionate? wondered Charlotte. But she couldn't be 
sure as Harriett seemed to be giving her great pleasure too as she 
nibbled Emma's clitoris with her teeth, while Susan in turn squeezed 
her vagina tightly against her own. Or was it because I'm watching? 
Perhaps, Charlotte thought, my presence gives Emma just a bit more 
pleasure. Perhaps she gets sadistic pleasure out of my discomfort. Or 
maybe, and Charlotte was sure this was the real truth, she thinks I get 
pleasure from seeing her get pleasure. 

However, it was not Emma, but Susan who seemed most aware 
of Charlotte's presence. Frequently and from whatever absurd angle it 
was, with pubic hair in her mouth or a tongue in her ear or her fingers 
firmly up Emma's cunt or even when Harriett forced one of her dildos 
as far up Susan's anus as it could go, Susan's broad smile and 
sparkling gaze seemed directed not at her lovers but rather at 
Charlotte. In fact, Charlotte had never been looked at in such an 
unambiguously sexual way before. At one stage, Susan disengaged 
herself from her two lovers, who continued making love with each 
other regardless and suddenly squeezed Charlotte to her tiny breasts 
and kissed her passionately on the face, eyes and mouth. And then, 
just when Charlotte had become fully appreciative of this act of 
passion, she pushed herself back off to rejoin the love-making with 
what seemed re-invigorated passion and lust. 

The three girls made love for what seemed forever to 
Charlotte, who envied them all. Afterwards though, Susan's 
conversation was held not with Emma and Harriett, whom she'd 
enjoyed so passionately, but with Charlotte. She felt that Susan was 
blatantly flirting with her, particular as she so often held Charlotte's 
hands in her own little hands and traced her fingers gently over their 
back. In fact she barely seemed interested in Emma and Harriett now, 
who retreated after a while to watch some of the videos that Emma 
was still investigating for her television station. 

Charlotte soon became aware that Susan's flirting, although 
meant sincerely, was not meant as an invitation to sex, (which she 
discussed coolly and dispassionately), but as an expression of 
affection. As Susan left, putting on a very tight silver jump-suit, she 
gave Charlotte a long embrace, hugging her and kissing her on the 
cheeks. "I must see you again," Susan insisted. "You must come and 
visit and watch me making love to my boyfriend. He is so passionate. 
And," she added, "we can only make love when we have visitors 
watching. Please say yes, so I can make love to him. He'll love it 
when such a beautiful girl as you is watching." 

Charlotte nodded, and said she would. But in truth, she felt 
very weary of all this second-hand love. When would someone make 
love to her? And would that person ever be Emma? 


--
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
           (mirror: http://bradley-stoke.fsn.net)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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