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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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Subject: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Forty One {Bradley Stoke} {FF FFFF}
Date: Fri,  8 Nov 2002 21:10:04 -0500
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Title: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Forty One {Bradley Stoke} {FF FFFF}
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 41 of 50
Keywords: FF FFFF
Short Summary: Susan takes Rosemary on as a lodger.


Emma
====

Summary 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


Previously
==========

Susan is active in the sex film industry and has encouraged Amna to do 
the same.



Chapter Forty One
=================


It was the start of Rosemary's first academic year at the university 
where she was to study Economics and General Business Studies. 
Although she'd long been looking forwards to this day, it was also 
with some trepidation that she'd also started the hunt to find digs for 
herself in the area. She scoured through the local newspapers and 
studied the student notice-boards, but it was the note in the window of 
an Asian newsagent's where she spotted the advertisement to flatshare 
Susan's apartment at what was a remarkably reasonable rate. She took 
a note of the number on her pocket PC, and dialed it on her mobile 
phone. The girl who answered the phone sounded very enthusiastic, 
and very pleased that Rosemary was a student. Clearly, it had just not 
crossed her mind to rent out to students, despite the many colleges and 
universities in the vicinity. 

"But before I offer you space in the flat I'd better see you," Susan 
commented. "Some of the people who've shone interest have been . 
well . not best suited to sharing with me. Nor would they have got on 
very well with my friends."

Susan's flat was a great deal better appointed than Rosemary had 
imagined. How could it be so inexpensive? she wondered. It was quite 
high up in an apartment block, with a beautiful view of the city below. 
With some self-conscious nervousness, she pressed the buzzer, 
wondering what this Susan might be like. She vaguely imagined 
someone in a smart business-suit with prim wire-framed glasses and 
hair tied back. What she didn't expect to see was a slim, not especially 
tall, oriental girl wearing only a baggy pair of shorts with a monstrous 
black, anatomically correct dildo protruding out of its fly and pointing 
towards her. The presence of the dildo didn't distress her too much. 
After all quite a few of her fellow students wore them. It was the 
fashion. Although most students had less prominent ones, usually 
worn decoratively over tight jeans, or worn instead of knickers. No, 
the presence of the dildo was not the most startling feature about her. 
Nor the fact she was an oriental with no accent to speak of. Nor that 
her hair was boyishly short. Nor that she was topless. To Rosemary's 
eyes the most stunning feature was Susan's almost total lack of 
breasts. She'd never been aware that it was possible for a woman to be 
so conspicuously unendowed, and yet to show absolutely no concern 
about it.

Susan was also rather startled. As well she might be. Her conversation 
on the phone had prepared her for a young female student, which 
she'd rather welcomed. She'd been very worried about sharing with a 
man, what with her career in fuck films. But it had no way prepared 
her for a girl with such massively disproportionate breasts. 
Unsurprisingly it was the very first thing that announced itself to her, 
although Rosemary was otherwise still a very attractive girl, not at all 
plump despite the dimensions of her bosom, and dressed remarkably 
demurely for a first year student. Her long mousey brown hair flowed 
down over a shirt which was quite clearly not designed to be worn by 
a woman, and tied together as best it could to contain her breasts, 
which protruded bralessly from beneath her denim jacket and 
supported only by their own properties as few bras could ever contain 
such full round breasts, the nipples of which alone were many times 
larger than her own tiny bust. She wore tight denim jeans and white 
trainers, and carried a flowery bag which clearly contained her books 
and bits and pieces. 

Rosemary smiled shyly, used now to the curious effect of her 
appearance. It was not one for which she was at all grateful. Most 
men, when they spoke at all, spoke to her cleavage and not to her at 
all. Women also treated her strangely as if she were suffering from 
some cruel disability. Even her friends found it difficult to 
accommodate her breasts into their acquaintance without some 
nervousness. And she'd never yet found anyone brave enough to 
acquaint her with the pleasures of romance or love-making.

"I've come about the flat," said Rosemary at last.

It was only the following day that Rosemary moved into the flat, glad 
to no longer have to sleep in a sleeping-bag on the floor of a friend's 
room in the student halls. She hauled her bags across town, up the 
elevator to the twelfth floor and then into the third of the three 
spacious bedrooms in Susan's flat. As she undid her bags and laid the 
clothes tidily into the many drawers, she couldn't help exulting in her 
good fortune in having found such a luxurious well-appointed room in 
such a nice part of the city. And with such a nice flatmate, or, really, 
landlady. When she'd got used to Susan's semi-nudity, the two girls 
had had such a nice chat seated on the large leather armchairs in the 
living room. All around them were beautiful rugs on polished floor-
boards, a massive television screen, beautiful painted portraits, still 
lifes and landscapes, and classy modern furniture. Susan was ever so 
interested in Rosemary's life, her studies at the university and, oh!, all 
sorts of things. She was so good at listening, and didn't seem at all 
bored as Rosemary prattled on. Oh! She was so lucky, thought 
Rosemary as she arranged her ornaments and possessions on the 
cupboards.

Eventually she emerged from her bedroom and wandered into the 
living room where she found Susan sitting on an armchair listening to 
some gentle jazz music and thumbing through a magazine. She looked 
up as Rosemary entered, and smiled at her. "I've ordered you a desk to 
study at," she announced. "It should arrive tomorrow and then you'll 
be settled for your studies."

Rosemary was only half-aware of what Susan was saying as she was 
slightly alarmed to see that Susan was totally nude, not even wearing 
the dildo which she'd come to think as being integral to Susan's 
appearance. She'd not often met naked women before, but Susan 
seemed totally unembarrassed by her appearance, so she made no 
comment. She gingerly sat herself down on another armchair, and felt 
herself sink into its firm leather upholstery.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" asked Susan, standing up and 
revealing her full erect nakedness. Rosemary nodded, but her thoughts 
were focused on Susan's naked crotch which was shaved and made 
her look several years younger than she was. But such a beautiful 
crotch: so tidy and smooth against her flat taut torso.

Rosemary and Susan sipped the chilled Argentinean wine, a taste 
which was still quite novel to Rosemary, and continued their 
conversation from the previous day as if there had only been the 
briefest of pauses. They discussed Rosemary's choice of studies at 
university, why she had been attracted to the discipline of Economics 
and her school childhood.

"But how did you cope with the attention that your . erm . assets 
must have provoked from your teachers and class mates?" wondered 
Susan.

"My assets?" wondered Rosemary at the delicate phrasing.

"Your bosom, I mean. It must have attracted a lot of comment."

"It did that," admitted Rosemary blushing. "I've often wished for 
smaller."

"Not ones as small as mine, though," joked Susan, running a hand 
over her own very different bust.

"Well, at least you don't have the problems I have in finding clothes 
that fit," Rosemary retorted bitterly. "Nowhere can I find anything 
that's designed for my fuller figure. And what I can find is always 
designed for people very much fatter than me."

"I appreciate that," smiled Susan. "You have to wear just shirts like 
the one you're wearing? Nothing else?"

"Dresses are horrible and shapeless. Blouses are the wrong shape. And 
even the biggest tee-shirts rides up my boobs, showing half my 
stomach."

"Well, you don't have to wear anything on top while you're staying 
here, Rosemary sweetest."

"Sorry?" wondered Rosemary, who wasn't sure she'd heard right.

"Don't be silly, Rosemary," smiled Susan standing up and placing her 
wine glass on the glass top of a table. "If those tops are uncomfortable, 
just take them off. It's not as if I'd ever object." She walked towards 
Rosemary, leant over and unbuttoned the top of her shirt. "Come on. 
Take it off. You'll feel much more at ease without it."

Rosemary blushed even deeper. "Are you sure? Won't I feel a little 
chilly?"

"Not in the temperature I keep the flat," Susan assured her, 
unbuttoning her shirt to the waist and parting it. Rosemary's breasts 
fell out with a kind of woomph and revealed their whole glory. Susan 
was amazed to see that natural breasts could be so naturally enormous. 
They were round, full, and dominated by nipples whose aureate dark 
pinkness spread around a taut sculptured centre which, in their 
unaccustomed  bareness, stiffened to the size of small thumbs. Should 
I? wondered Susan momentarily. But she dismissed the thought, and 
eased Rosemary's blouse off her shoulders and onto the floor. Where 
it lay looking very sorry for itself in a white heap of shapeless linen on 
the intricate patterns of the Afghani rug Susan had bought on one of 
her more exotic film shots.

"Don't you feel so much better now, Rosemary?" asked Susan, with a 
sympathetic smile.

And then, as if nothing had happened, Susan returned to their 
conversation about life in the city and in Rosemary's own town as if 
her breasts had never once intruded themselves onto the discussion. 
This even though it was uncomfortably clear to Rosemary that Susan's 
mind still continued to wander back to the breasts which heaved in 
front of her, and even without the hindrance of clothes weighed very 
heavily on her spine and brushed occasionally against her be-jeaned 
knees.

As the days passed, Rosemary started her studies, bringing back piles 
of dry Economics text-books on inflation, web-enabled business, stock 
market fluctuations and business management. She would sit at her 
desk with the computer that Susan let her use, or on a chair by the 
window with the sun streaming in onto the turgid, polysyllabic prose 
of her chosen discipline. And bit by bit, she was persuaded to abandon 
more than just her top, revealing to Susan a firm body, with none of 
the folds of a plump woman, but blessed with thighs and knees of 
appropriate proportion, and a waist which curved in enough to give 
her sufficient contour for a woman of much smaller mammary 
dimension. Her unviolated vagina had a bush of brown hair which 
faded well into her slightly olive skin. But after a while it was 
Rosemary's face that Susan most fell in love with. Her large brown 
eyes, her slightly turned-up nose and a beautiful toothy smile that 
stretched her seductive thick lips.

So, it was not at all surprising to Susan, nor to anyone who knew her, 
that she and Rosemary found themselves together in Susan's large bed 
one evening after slightly more glasses of wine than usual; even 
though it was something that clearly took Rosemary by surprise. This 
was not what she thought sharing a flat was about. Sharing a bed, 
especially with a woman, had never been on her agenda when she was 
looking for digs. But she found it very pleasant, perhaps, to her 
surprise, more than she'd imagined. Although her new-found 
proclivity also alarmed her. What would her friends think? What 
would her fellow students think? And even worse, what would her 
parents, who were always so considerate and kind to her, think?

Susan was a very gentle and tender lover, bringing Rosemary 
gradually towards the bed and onto the welcoming sheets. Guiding her 
with her hands, and then exploring her body with her tongue, lips and 
then teeth. Her fingers explored the crevices and contours of 
Rosemary's fully intact labia, while her tongue licked and her mouth 
gobbled greedily on her lodger's monstrous nipples. Her palms stroked 
the full roundness of Rosemary's knees, her lips nibbled on 
Rosemary's eyebrows and ears and toes. And then her fingers gently 
explored the inner sanctum of Rosemary's virginity, bringing the girl 
to unaccustomed and thoroughly frightening gasps and choked cries of 
delight as strange vibrations and spasms shook her sweaty, almost 
slimy, body.

Of course, Rosemary always wondered how Susan could afford such a 
nice flat but she never really suspected that it was as a result of 
working in the sex industry. In fact, until they'd made love, Susan had 
been very coy about disclosing what she did for a living. In fact, she'd 
been singularly evasive. It was only after the two girls had had several 
more nights of progressively more passionate lovemaking that Susan 
imparted this to her, but so casually and matter-of-factly that it took 
Rosemary rather a few hours to comprehend the enormity of this fact. 
Which was, of course, that the first person she'd ever surrendered her 
body to habitually made love to others, men and women, in front of 
cameras. And that evidence of her lovemaking with these people was 
widely available in sex shops, supermarkets and newsagents 
throughout the country. And, indeed, the world.

However, the horror of it soon passed, and she allowed Susan to take 
her most precious commodity, her maidenhead, with one of her 
smaller dildos. And, Christ! It was painful. But the pain soon 
subsided, and she soon forgot what had so recently happened to her, 
despite the clear and bloody stains on the bedsheets and still 
glutinously shining on the length of the pale pink penis-shaped dildo 
that Susan had chosen for this initial foray.

However, this was followed by more nights of similar penetration with 
dildos of steadily larger dimensions and of shapes and forms which 
Rosemary had never expected: including studded ones which gave 
spasms of pleasure in the depths of her vagina she'd not even 
imagined. Even the long black dildo she'd originally seen protruding 
from the fly of Susan's shorts came into play, removing the very last 
traces of her maidenhead in a small bloody spot on the very centre of 
the sheet. There was even a dildo for her arse, which she allowed to 
enter her with some fear and anxiety, but was strangely not unpleasant, 
rubbing against the sensitive nerves of her vagina from a new and 
quite delightful direction. 

Although she truly enjoyed the penetrations, it was the other 
lovemaking with Susan which gave her the most pleasure, and gave 
her the deepest and most satisfying orgasms. In fact, there was 
something grotesque, even comical, about the strange positions she 
and Susan had to adopt for her lover to adopt the masculine poses 
required for strap-on sex. She much preferred to explore her smaller 
lover's tender white skin, the tiny breasts she so enjoyed licking and 
teasing, the porcelain beauty of her hands, the delicious contours of 
her smooth small feet and its perfectly proportioned toes. And, of 
course, Susan's face, with her beautiful dark eyes and her mouth. The 
ivory hardness and whiteness of her teeth. The liquid muscular 
flexibility of her tongue. Those long passionate kisses which were the 
prelude and epilogue to their long passionate stints of lovemaking.

Nevertheless, Rosemary couldn't remain forever secluded from the 
reality of Susan's profession. And it first became clear to her one day 
when she came home from a lecture on Money Supply to find Susan 
entertaining two friends who were introduced to her as Amna and 
Fluff. It shocked her to see these two much more vulgar exemplars of 
the sex profession than her own darling loveliness, Susan. Fluff 
particularly shocked her: totally nude, although Rosemary was still 
wearing a baggy student sweatshirt and slacks. And her face. That 
horrible tattoo that totally defaced it, partly obscuring the fact that her 
head, unlike her vagina, was totally shaved. And wasn't it a tattoo of 
erect penis spurting a load of yellowish semen onto her cheeks? How 
could anyone voluntarily consent to such a disgusting disfigurement? 
And this was merely the most prominent of a series of tattoos, mostly 
of penises, but some of vaginas and naked women scattered about a 
body which was only tattoo-free from below her breasts and to the top 
of her thighs.

How could anyone make love to a woman like that? Rosemary 
wondered, although she knew that the answer lay in Amna, who was 
herself voluntarily disfigured, if not in such a hideous provocative 
fashion. Amna wore nothing but a black leather jacket open at the 
front and a large black dildo strapped onto her hips. Her lips were 
curiously puckered, although she was clearly not of African ethnic 
origin. Her stomach was clearly outlined by the muscles of her 
exercise and practise. Her arse, when she stood up, was prominent and 
quite unnaturally round and firm. But this was as nothing to her very 
firm, very hard and rather large breasts, of a composition quite 
different to her own still larger breasts. The nipples seemed 
unnaturally small for such a large bosom.

"So this is your new girlfriend, Susan!" Fluff commented with a smile, 
just barely visible through the pattern of her facial tattoo. "And what a 
fucking find she is too! Don't you think, Amna? Just look at the size 
of her fucking breasts! And they're fucking real too, aren't they?"

Susan nodded shyly, clearly a little embarrassed by the rudeness of her 
friend. She stood in her shorts with a dildo protruding through the fly 
as she had when Rosemary had first met her.

"They are real!" commented Amna in awe. "It's almost unreal! Gain 
without pain! I've never seen a pair like them in my whole career!"

"Nor me!" smiled Fluff. "Come on, Rosemary! Don't be so shy. We're 
not going to hurt you. We're just paying Susan a visit. We've just not 
seen her in a while. Have we, Susan." 

And then, to Rosemary's jealous horror, she put an arm round her 
darling Susan's perfect bare white shoulders and kissed her very fully 
on the mouth, an arm around her back, while stroking the slight bumps 
of her bare breast with a familiarity which came so easily and so 
smoothly, it could only be because it was expected of her. Rosemary 
felt slightly giddy, and steadied herself slowly into one of Susan's 
welcoming leather arm chairs. As if on cue, Amna also sat down, 
while Susan and Fluff stood together, arms around each others 
shoulders and back, and Susan really not looking nearly as 
uncomfortable or awkward as Rosemary would have hoped.

However, Susan could see Rosemary's distress. She eased herself 
reluctantly out of Fluff's embrace and sat on the arm of Rosemary's 
chair, put her arms around her neck, beneath the long hair which 
cascaded onto her chest and tickled her bare midriff. "Oh, Rosemary! 
Darling! Sweetheart! Don't take so! Amna and Fluff are friends of 
mine from, oh! so long back. I love them dearly. But you are my 
dearest and closest!" She placed a tender kiss on Rosemary's lips and 
took her limp hand in her own ivory white one. "You must believe that 
you are the one I most love!"

"Fucking romantic, ain't you, Susan!" laughed Fluff. "I almost fucking 
envy you. But I've got my own dearest heart. Haven't I, Amna, 
honey!" And she joined Amna on the chair where she sat, and with no 
prelude or invitation, thrust her tongue deep into Amna's mouth, and 
ran her fingers over the full firm contours of Amna's round nearly 
spherical bosom, briefly tweaking a nipple between a forefinger and 
thumb. "You fucking love me, too, don't you, cherry pie?"

"I love you more than I can say!" gasped Amna, Fluff's saliva 
dribbling from the corner of her mouth: a small droplet detaching 
itself from her chin and plopping onto one of Fluff's hands otherwise 
preoccupied with her nipple. 

 "I don't . I don't . I don't know what to say." gasped Rosemary.

"Don't say fucking anything!" sneered Fluff removing Amna's jacket 
from her shoulders and kissing her fully on the mouth. Amna gasped 
with an expression of delight and hugged her lover hard against her 
large breasts.

"Oh! I love you! I love you!" Amna cried.

Rosemary sat transfixed with Susan's arms around her shoulders, 
watching for the first time in real life as a couple made love to each 
other. It was a passionate animal experience that she knew intimately 
but had never witnessed, not even on celluloid. The two bodies 
grappled onto the floor intertwined, sweating and so so absolutely 
physically naked. This is what it looks like, Rosemary thought, as she 
watched Amna's enormous dildo find its way into Fluff's vagina, and 
as Amna thrust her absurdly full buttocks backwards and forwards 
above her.

She turned to face Susan. She had no idea of what to say, but was not 
at all surprised as silently and seductively, to the background groans 
and moans of the other couple, Susan removed not only her own 
clothes, but also Rosemary's. "Oh! I love you, Susan!" Rosemary 
managed to say over the excitement rising in her chest and clogging 
her mouth. 

And soon there were four bodies writhing and moaning and grappling 
together on Susan's rugs: at first apart as two couples deeply in love, 
and, then, predictably but not without some anxiety as an enmeshed 
foursome, writhing as a single eight-legged, four-tongued, six and 
two-half breasted  mass of flesh. This was the first time, Rosemary 
mused, with another woman, or other women, but still including Susan 
whose ivory flesh she sought out as much as she could between the 
dark Amna's dark skin and Fluff's psychedelic one. For the first time, 
she kissed another woman, as Amna took her tongue into her mouth, 
and slightly nipped it, while was it two? or was it three? or was it even 
four? fingers probed, explored, penetrated and squeezed her precious 
labia and vagina. And whose dildo was thrusting in her? Was it 
Amna's? Or her darling Susan's? And what was that inside her arse?

She groaned and yelled and panted as she shuddered with orgasm, but 
also watched as Fluff's own skinny tattooed legs twitched and 
shuddered to its own repertoire of pleasure. She took Fluff's vagina in 
her teeth, to find herself face to face with Susan, whilst behind her a 
dildo thrust into and out of her vagina.

Susan smiled lasciviously, her tongue licking her teeth, from out of 
which one or more of Fluff's pubic hair were embedded. "Oh, 
Rosemary, isn't this fun? Isn't this the most fun? Isn't this what life 
was always meant to be about?"

Amongst the liquid, physical, hot, sweaty tremors of passions which 
wracked her body so, Rosemary was able to reflect. Maybe Susan was 
right. Maybe this was what living was for. Wasn't this paradise? And 
her enormous breasts which had caused her so much embarrassment 
for so much of her life was now giving so much pleasure, as she felt 
two tongues work around her hard nipples. At least now they were 
being used for the purpose for which she must have been so blessed. 
Never again would she regret the prominence of her assets. The only 
drawback, she thought, was that some day it might end. But until 
then. Rosemary nodded. "Oh! Susan! I love you so much. You've 
brought me so much pleasure. How can I ever ever thank you 
enough?"



For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www

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