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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 29 May 2002 19:49:45 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Emma - Chapter Seven {Bradley Stoke}{FF}
Date: Thu, 30 May 2002 07:10:04 -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 starts working at a naturist branch of the Civil 
Service. Emma and Harriett extend their love for each other to other 
women, including Susan, a sex actress who can only make love whilst
being watched.



Chapter Seven
=============


"Are you doing anything this evening?" Clarissa asked Charlotte as 
the two colleagues prepared to return home after a full day at work. 
Clarissa was pulling on a dress which like all her clothes looked 
awkward over her full round breasts and buttocks. Charlotte, who had 
always had more of a sense of style still found it strange becoming 
accustomed to wearing less clothes than she did before. She buttoned 
up the black silk blouse which was all she was currently wearing. As it 
was a warm day, she also had a pair of loose shorts, which she found 
more comfortable when not wearing knickers. 

"No, I've got nothing planned," admitted Charlotte, who in 
fact rather dreaded going home. Who would Emma and Harriett be 
making love with tonight? she wondered. 

"In that case I'll take you to the Haworth," announced Clarissa. 
"It's a naturist wine bar near here. We can have a drink and a chat." 

"Ooh, that'd be a nice idea," Charlotte admitted. It certainly 
meant she'd be absolved of acting as a voyeur this evening. "Does it 
cost anything to go in?" 

"Of course not," Clarissa assured her. "But you must take your 
clothes off." 

After working all day with no clothes, this seemed quite 
natural to Charlotte. In fact, the sight of a man or woman wearing 
clothes now seemed almost odd to her. Clarissa led Charlotte down a 
few quiet back streets in the town centre to a fairly anonymous street, 
near a delicatessen and a shop selling apparently nothing but 
lamp-shades where there was the sign, The Haworth, just above a 
staircase which led down below street level. Nothing of the wine bar 
was visible from the street, and in fact it didn't really seem very 
inviting. It certainly wasn't the sort of place where Charlotte would 
normally choose to go. 

Charlotte followed Clarissa down the steps, to a more inviting 
place than she'd expected. It was well-lit with subtly attractive decor 
and the people inside were indeed wearing no clothes. The large black 
gentleman at the door was also naked (or at least what was visible over 
the counter). "We'll have to leave our clothes here," Clarissa 
announced. The two girls undressed and handed their clothes to the 
gentleman. Charlotte was about to retrieve her handbag, but Clarissa 
signalled that it wasn't necessary: "You buy everything on tab here," 
she explained. 

There weren't that many people in the bar. There was a group 
of four men in the corner drinking beers and looking well at ease in 
their nudity. They glanced at Charlotte and Clarissa as they entered, 
but in a fairly neutral fashion. A man and woman were chatting in the 
corner and held their hands together over the table. They had eyes only 
for each other. Clarissa went to the bar to be greeted by a bar-girl 
wearing only a welcoming smile. 

"The same as always, Clarissa?" the bar-girl asked.  

"Yes, of course, Emily," Clarissa answered. "And what are you 
having, Charlotte?" 

"Oh, an orange juice I think," she answered. 

"Nothing stronger?" wondered Clarissa quizzically, but this 
was what Emily poured into a glass which shone an orange triangle 
onto her apple-shaped breasts. She then made a note on a piece of 
paper of the purchases. 

The girls chose a table which seemed unnecessarily hidden for 
such a relatively quiet place. While they chatted about work and 
colleagues, Charlotte gazed about the room examining the other 
customers as they entered. Clarissa did much the same, but in a 
decidedly predatory manner.

Charlotte was soon tempted to have a glass of wine, which 
seemed to go straight through her, so she soon had to go to the toilet. It 
was a very clean toilet, but nonetheless bizarre in that there were no 
doors in the cubicles. No need for modesty here, reflected Charlotte as 
she brushed through her long hair with her hands. 

When Charlotte got back, she found that they were no longer 
unaccompanied, as Clarissa was talking apparently animatedly with a 
young man who was seated on a stool by their table. "Oh hello, 
Charlotte," smiled Clarissa, as she sat down. "Meet ... um ..." 

"Edwin," announced the young man, smiling broadly at 
Charlotte. "I work in Electricity. Are you in the Civil Service as well?" 
Charlotte nodded. "In the same section?" She nodded again.  "It must 
be wonderful not having to wear clothes all day. Electricity would 
never countenance it. But I guess, the Civil Service have got to 
provide some benefits to counter the lousy pay." 

Edwin sat with the two girls for the rest of the evening which 
seemed to go on interminably. Edwin ordered a bottle of wine, which 
the three shared between them, with Clarissa drinking the most. 
Gradually Clarissa became more intimate with Edwin, and it didn't 
surprise Charlotte too much to see her stroking Edwin's penis. "Don't 
do that!" he laughed, but he neither removed her hand nor resisted it 
the swelling of his penis from the attention. The conversation however 
essentially more prosaic, and by concentrating on that, Charlotte just 
about succeeded in ignoring Clarissa's blatant teasing. 

It was gone eleven when Clarissa announced it was time to go 
home. "Do the both of you want to come back for some coffee?" she 
asked. Charlotte was feeling slightly tipsy, and assented as she thought 
a coffee might do her some good. Edwin didn't hesitate at all.  

Clarissa's flat was only five minutes walk from the bar. The 
three of them got dressed, and settled their bill with the black 
gentleman at reception. Edwin put on a business suit, which seemed 
very peculiar after having so long worn nothing over his bronzed 
naked body. Clarissa's flat was up a couple of flights of stairs, and had 
a no-clothes policy like the bar, as Clarissa announced pushing open 
her front door,  The three of them removed their clothes again and left 
them in the hall-way, before entering the flat proper. 

Clarissa didn't live alone in the flat. Her boyfriend was sitting 
in front of the television and briefly greeted them as they entered. 
Charlotte sat in the living room while Edwin and Clarissa prepared the 
coffee. It seemed to take ages to arrive, and Clarissa's boyfriend 
seemed far more interested in the television than on chat. 

It was the city's only naturist station, Nude Horizon, and like 
all naturist stations there were strictly no clothes, but also none of the 
explicit sex associated with Emma's station, Harlot TV. Like 
Harlot, however, it religiously pursued its preferred subject matter, 
and was often just as dull about it. There was probably less sex on 
Nude Horizon than on most other television stations, and most 
intimacy was of a fairly chaste kind. There were soap operas and 
documentaries, quiz shows and films just like on any other station: all 
totally unexceptional but for the nudity. Although Charlotte wasn't a 
great fan of sex television she preferred it to this. 

Nude Horizon was showing a general interest program 
which was actually discussing Harlot TV. What a strange 
coincidence, thought Charlotte, glancing at Clarissa's boyfriend and 
wondering if she should say anything about her loose connection with 
the station. She decided against it. He might not approve. The program 
was discussing the fourth X awarded to Harlot TV, and the more 
sexually explicit programs it was now considered responsible enough 
to show. 

"Of particular interest to our viewers," the television presenter 
announced, "is that the guiding hand for much of the new policy, is a 
committed naturist, who, amongst other things believes there should 
be a more positive attitude towards nudists on sex television." 

The program then featured Emma (yes, Emma, my love, my 
lovely) who was wearing no clothes as always and looking not at all 
embarrassed as the rather flabby middle-aged woman presenter asked 
her questions. 

"For too long on sex television," Emma said in her most 
polemic style, "nakedness has been thought of as nothing but a prelude 
to full sexual intercourse. But that is of course absolute nonsense." 

Emma explained in the few minutes allotted to her, that she 
would influence programming to ensure that Harlot TV would have 
its fourth X renewed. There would be a new soap opera which would 
not just present its cast as simpering sex toys. There would be 
discussion and chat programs where the presenter would not be 
obliged to have sex with the guests. And yes, there would be a more 
positive attitude towards naturism. And there would be an attempt to 
move away from nudity as titillation, towards nudity as a rational 
person's life-style choice. 

After the interview with Emma, the presenter addressed some 
sceptical comments to the camera, but Charlotte heard none of this as 
her mind focused entirely on Emma. On her beauty. And her 
formidable modest but assured presence. And on how much she loved 
her.

"This coffee's taking rather a long time to arrive!" commented 
Charlotte.  

Without taking his eyes off the feature on naturist cheese 
factories, Clarissa's boyfriend commented expressionlessly: "I expect 
that means I'll have to sleep in the spare bedroom." The connection 
seemed fairly odd to her, so Charlotte, whose mind was still reviewing 
Emma's television interview, chose to ignore it. 

However, he was right, as Charlotte discovered when Clarissa 
came in with two cups of coffee, which Charlotte was displeased to 
find had two sugars and not none as she'd asked. "Sorry, we took so 
long," Clarissa said smiling in a very peculiar way, her skin shining 
with an equally peculiar glisten. "Edwin and I just got carried away in 
the kitchen." She looked at her boyfriend. "He's so good, Cyril, you 
wouldn't believe! That prick of his just feels so right!" She paused 
while Cyril continued watching the television as it reviewed naturism 
and recent amendments to Motoring regulations. "You don't mind 
sleeping in the spare bedroom tonight, do you, Cyril?" 

His eyes continued to focus on the film of a motorcyclist 
wearing what was considered the legal minimum quantity of clothes, 
covering head, chest and limbs, but left the crotch displayed. "No, of 
course not Clarrie. I even prepared it earlier." 

"Oh you're such a darling, Cyril!" remarked Clarissa, as she 
kissed him full on the mouth. "Edwin's so good!" She turned to 
Charlotte and took the hand that wasn't politely holding the cup of 
coffee she was soon going to let go cold. "And he wants you to join 
us, Charlotte. Isn't that wonderful!" 

Charlotte hadn't expected this, and so wasn't sure how to 
respond. She gave a little frown, but her thoughts were more on 
Emma, and the idea of sex with Edwin and Clarissa just didn't appeal. 
When would it appeal to her? Charlotte wondered. Perhaps if she'd 
had more to drink. "I feel a bit tired, I'm afraid." 

"Oh come on, Charlotte," said Clarissa imploringly. "It's not 
every day you get a chance at this kind of fun." 

That was true, reflected Charlotte, but it was every day she got 
to witness it. But, as she also thought, Clarissa wasn't gay and 
Charlotte was, after all, a lesbian. She shook her head shyly. 

"OK," said Clarissa, clearly disappointed. "Well, I hope you 
don't mind if I go off now and enjoy myself with Edwin." Then she 
raised herself up, and left Edwin and Charlotte to watch a commercial 
break featuring products designed for the naturist market, such as sun 
tan lotion, creams for sore crotches and privacy devices.  

Charlotte continued watching television with Cyril, who made 
no comment, for what she judged as a polite length of time. After the 
commercial break, there was a naturist situation comedy, set on a 
naturist newspaper. The humour was, if anything, even less funny than 
that in most situation comedies, and the bizarre aspect of newspaper 
people wandering about in the nude soon palled on her. "I must get 
going now," she announced. 

"Oh yes," said Cyril, looking up at her, as she picked up her 
virtually untouched cup of coffee. "Well, it's been very nice having 
you visit. Please come again." He smiled in a reassuring way, that 
somehow compensated for much of his previous silence, and then his 
eyes returned to a situation where one of the characters had spilt drink 
down her breasts, and made the comment that at least she didn't have 
to worry about a dry-cleaning bill. 

Charlotte found the kitchen, and poured the coffee down the 
sink. Then as she wandered back past the living room to the front door 
she saw that Clarissa's bedroom was wide open and could see Edwin 
fucking away inside her in a room otherwise remarkable only for its 
pink and cream decor. Edwin's back was to her, but Clarissa was 
mounted in such a position he could easily see Charlotte going by. 

"Are you coming to join us after all?" asked Clarissa in a 
slightly breathless way as Edwin thrust in and out of her, her breasts 
flopping backwards and forwards to the same rhythm. Charlotte sadly 
shook her head. "No?" said Clarissa, regretfully. "Well, I'll see you 
tomorrow then." 

Charlotte left early enough to be able to catch an underground 
train home, and was soon through the front door, and into the flat. Off 
came her clothes again. She now viewed them more or less as 
encumbrances to be worn between rather than at places. The flat was 
very quiet, and, as Charlotte discreetly verified, Harriett and Emma 
were sleeping together in Harriett's bed with no guests. She went to 
the bathroom and while sitting on the toilet, feeling the warm rush of 
urine splash up from the porcelain onto her thighs, she reflected that 
perhaps tonight had been one night when she'd have felt more 
comfortable staying at home. 

However, this view was shattered when with the smell of 
toothpaste still lingering in her mouth, Charlotte pushed open the door 
of her bedroom and found that it was not empty. She turned on the 
light and woke up the small white figure of Susan, lying naked in a 
huddled figure under the sheets. 

"Oh Charlotte!" Susan cried in a tone of affection. "At last 
you're back!" 

Charlotte certainly hadn't expected Susan to be there. She'd 
become an occasional visitor to the flat, and Charlotte had become 
rather accustomed to watching Susan make love to Emma and 
Harriett, and on one occasion to Molly, who had been visiting at the 
same time. She'd taken up the habit of arriving unannounced and 
assuming that there'd always be sex available, which rather annoyed 
Harriett, who liked her life better organised.  

"What are you doing in my bed?" wondered Charlotte. 

"Because I've been waiting for you," smiled Susan seductively. 
She put her arms out and held Charlotte's hands in hers'. "And," she 
added with an unusually coy grin, "because I love you." 

This rather shocked Charlotte, who had never made love to 
Susan, though she was very aware that although she got virtually no 
sexual attention when Susan visited she got almost all her non-sexual 
attention. "Do you want to make love to me?" asked Charlotte wearily, 
not sure if this was the opportunity for the love affair she needed after 
being so decidedly rejected by Emma, or if this was just a nuisance she 
could do well without. 

"Heavens, no!" exclaimed Susan. "No, I love you too much for 
that. I just want to be with you. I want to sleep in the same bed as you. 
I want to feel your tender body near mine. Feel your breath on mine. 
Have you watching me make love to my boyfriend, to Emma, to 
Harriett, whoever." 

"But not actually make love with me?" wondered Charlotte. 

Susan smiled. "I feel so fulfilled when I feel you watching me. 
When I made love to Emma this evening with only Harriett watching, 
I felt so empty. I know Emma enjoyed it. She really loves my body." 
Charlotte winced, but she knew it was true. Perhaps Harriett's 
annoyance with Susan was also because she seemed to give Emma 
more pleasure than anyone else. "Emma was so passionate. And 
aggressive. Look at the bruises." She emerged from the sheets and 
pointed at blue and slightly red patches of skin around her lower body. 
"And the bite marks," she added indicating her little breasts and just 
above her crotch. "And look at the blood!" she added, pulling herself 
out of the bed, turning round to face her bottom to Charlotte, and 
opening her buttocks to show her anus. And indeed, Charlotte could 
just about make out patches of dried blood attached to the hairs around 
her anus. "Emma just goes wild. She just doesn't care what she does 
to my body," Susan smiled. "But it's you I love." 

"And it's Emma I love!" exclaimed Charlotte who suddenly 
burst into tears and threw herself on the bed. 

Whatever it was that Susan expected to do that evening it 
probably wasn't what she in fact did do: which was to comfort 
Charlotte as she cried through the night, talking about her love for 
Emma, her jealousy of Harriett, the way she felt neglected when so 
many women could make love to Emma but not her, the way she felt 
like just an appendage to the goings on in the flat. "It just fills me with 
pain to think of you and Emma making love together. With Emma 
loving you and not me. It was so much better before Emma discovered 
sex!" 

"I thought you enjoyed watching people make love," 
commented Susan sadly - herself disappointed. "That's why I was 
convinced we'd make the perfect couple. I thought I would fuck and 
you would watch and maybe masturbate. And then we would be just 
friends and love each other - as I love you. And I would be fulfilled. 
And I thought you would be fulfilled too." 

"No," sniffed Charlotte, holding Susan's slim shoulders to her 
chest. "No that's not what I want. Not at all." 

--
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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