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Subject: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Forty Eight {Bradley Stoke} {FF}
Date: Tue, 10 Dec 2002 21:10:03 -0500
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Title: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Forty Eight {Bradley Stoke} {FF}
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 48 of 50
Keywords: FFF
Short Summary: Emma lives in Sunbury, a naturist resort
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
==========
Emma's young lover, Maisie, leaves her for Emma's other lover. Charlotte
and Josephine persuade her to leave to live in Sunbury.
Chapter Forty Eight
===================
Sunbury hadn't always been a naturist resort. For most of its history it
had been a fishing village, blessed with a beautiful bay at the foot of
some hills, with a small pier and a few dozen cottages. However,
exhaustive fishing brought a collapse to the village's economy, and its
secluded and relatively remote location made it an ideal place to
satisfy the growing market for naturism and other related nature-
loving lifestyles. It was now quite a reasonable sized town, dotted with
a dozen or more hotels and lodging houses, a seasonably busy
shopping area and many new entertainment industries. The dock that
had once been the home for the fishing boats was now the permanent
home for several yachts and motor boats. Emma drove into the town,
found a small flat to stay in overlooking the sea, and after unpacking
her car set out to look for work in the shops, restaurants, caf,s and
hotels of the town.
She felt immediately better when she arrived. It may have been the
invigorating sea air, or the beautiful view over the bay to the small
boats bobbing about on the dark green sea, or just that she was so far
away from home and reminders of Maisie. It may have been the
delight of staying in a place where almost everyone was naked like
her. She enjoyed the relatively unfamiliar feel of the warm sea air on
her bare flesh. She loved the fact that she was one of many people who
were in the nude, and would almost certainly meet others who had
similar opinions and views on naturism as herself.
She walked along the pavement, idly pausing to look in the windows
of the shops looking for a sign that advertised for workers. She didn't
mind where she worked. She could work anywhere: the main thing
was to find something which would occupy her while she was in
Sunbury. A strange cheerfulness uplifted her as she walked past men
and women naked like herself who did not stare at her or make low-
voiced comments to each other. She smiled to herself, the world and
her reflection in the shop windows.
It was in a small health food caf, that she eventually found work. It
was towards the end of the Sunbury high street, just opposite a
hairdresser and between a hat shop and a shop selling paintings by
local naturist artists. The owner of the caf, was a small quite plump
woman with very full round breasts and a disarming grin. She was
delighted in the fact of Emma's long-term commitment to
vegetarianism and all healthy foods. She quickly judged from Emma's
smart appearance and her intelligence that she was eminently
presentable and quite capable in the role of waitress. She didn't even
have to remind Emma of the unfortunate consequences of spilling hot
tea on herself when there was no apron or other clothes to protect her
skin. She willingly presented Emma with the small folded linen hat
which denoted that she was a waitress, and was quite happy that she
could start straight away.
"I'm always short of good waitresses," she confessed. "It's not the sort
of job people ever choose to make a career out of."
Emma soon settled into her new role, quite happy in a position with no
great responsibilities and with absolutely no stress. She was busy
when the caf, was busy, and able to relax with a magazine or
newspaper when it was quiet. It was a delight to continue working in
the nude, and to be surrounded by others similarly undressed. She
particularly enjoyed the fact that from when she woke up to when she
went to bed, she didn't need to wear a stitch of clothing. Her paltry
selection of tee-shirts and dresses remained packed in her suitcases
exactly as they were when she'd left her home in the care of Charlotte
and Josephine.
As a single girl she quite naturally attracted the attention of the single
men who were on holiday, but she shrugged off their advances with
the same nonchalance and lack of interest she always had. Her serious
demeanour was quite enough in most cases to make it fairly clear to
them that she was a girl who meant pretty much what she said. Even
those who were more persistent resigned themselves fairly soon to
brief uncomplicated conversation as she took their orders and hurried
back from the kitchen with their tea and scones.
She also came to realise that most people she saw were only in
Sunbury for a short while, and that every week or fortnight the regular
visitors were replaced by another set who saw her with fresh eyes. Her
practised eye soon became aware of the attraction that one of the
regular visitors felt towards her. Beatrice was a slim woman, slightly
older than herself, naked like everyone else except for a pair of steel-
rimmed glasses and who always carried a paperback novel around
with her. Her straight dark brown hair fell onto her shoulders and
behind the concave lenses of her spectacles were a pair of sparkling
light green eyes. She had a tell-tale awkwardness and a shy laugh
which betrayed to Emma the nature of Beatrice's feelings towards her.
It was fairly easy for Emma to convert a conversation about the
relative merits of Dosto0/00vsky and Turgenev to a night out together
after she'd finished work in one of Sunbury's quieter restaurants.
Emma was pleased that Beatrice had never heard of her work with
Harlot TV. Indeed, Emma was sure that those who did recognise her
as a one-time television presenter and spokesperson did not believe
that she was really the same person as the waitress she now was in the
Chestnut Tree Caf,. Several people had commented on her
resemblance, but her remark that this was something that many others
had spotted before was sufficient for them to be sure that this was
merely superficial and not at all substantial. Emma ensured that her
conversation with Beatrice remained focused on abstract issues or on
Beatrice herself. She worked as a librarian in a small town. She knew
nobody who shared her passion for naturism, and so it was only on
holidays such as this that she felt able to present herself to the world in
her true colours.
After a couple of glasses of Chardonnay in the Montpellier wine bar,
Emma easily persuaded Beatrice back to her flat, knowing perhaps
better than the librarian herself how the evening would turn out.
Indeed, Beatrice was quite startled when Emma's lips pressed to her
and her arms clasped the girl to her breast. Within minutes, the two
girls were laid out on the double-bed that dominated the bedroom,
their faces close together and Beatrice's spectacles discreetly placed
on the bedside cabinet. It was glorious to once again taste a fresh
vagina on her tongue, to feel a different set of breasts: these ones small
and perky, and a slim waist that merged into her narrow hips and tight
bottom.
Beatrice was not an expert lover. In fact, Emma was sure she had
enjoyed very little passion with any women before, but she was careful
to avoid any questions on her earlier love-life. It was better somehow
not to know. It was far better just to enjoy Beatrice as she was, using
her fingers to bring the nervous girl to spasms of orgasmic ecstasy,
and careful also not to frighten her with any of Emma's rougher tastes
in lovemaking. Beatrice tried her best to respond like with like. She
greedily gobbled away at Emma's clitoris, her long slim tongue
probing the folds beneath the dark brown hair of her crotch, while
Emma below parted her vagina and pushed her fingers in and out of its
depths. However, she resisted the urge to probe a finger into the tight
puckered anus. That was for another night.
Beatrice discharged herself from her hotel and stayed in Emma's flat
for the duration of her holiday, declaring so many times that this was
the best holiday she had ever had. Emma could see that Beatrice was
falling in love with her, so she resisted any opportunity for
conversation to take too personal a tone. Making love was one thing.
Being in love was another. She enjoyed Beatrice for her body and her
company, but she was still in love with Maisie and she was just not
ready yet to become committed to anyone else. Furthermore, she
doubted whether Beatrice would enjoy the company of her friends.
And she was sure she wouldn't really approve of the nature of the
employment most of them were engaged in.
As the days went by, Maisie became a more distant memory.
Occasionally, she found her thoughts drifting back to the girl and their
life together. Every time she saw a girl in the streets with long curly
hair. Every time she reflected on her life before she came to Sunbury.
Every time when the relative inexperience of Beatrice's caresses and
gropings reawoke a memory of the earlier days of her lovemaking with
Maisie. Her life was nevertheless mostly quite contented. She worked
all day in the caf,, she spent pleasant evenings at her flat or in the
town of Sunbury with Beatrice. They would walk together, hand in
hand, along the sandy beach or the promenade. And on Emma's days
off, walk off together through the woods and countryside around
Sunbury, often straying dangerously close towards the textile world
beyond. Beatrice's warm hand in her hand, or her fingers on her
crotch, were thoroughly agreeable distractions. And it was a pleasure
too, to converse on their shared views on the merits of nudity,
vegetarianism and, quite curiously, a shared passion for twentieth
century poets like T. S. Eliot, Dylan Thomas and Sylvia Plath.
They would lie together on the grass, in the hills high above the busy
town below, idly discoursing until, inevitably, lust got the better of
one or the other of them and the two would once again become a
writhing entwined body of one flesh, the sun beating on them from
above and the grass prodding and poking into the crevices of their
flesh from below. Emma didn't care, unlike Beatrice, if ever anyone
passed by and saw the girls making love together. These moments of
outdoor lovemaking were too precious to interrupt for the sensibility
of people and their children, who in any case would be seeing no more
flesh than they themselves were displaying.
Emma was genuinely sad to see Beatrice leave after her holiday
romance to return to the Lower Bridlington Public Library, although
clearly not as sad as Beatrice as she left in clothes that had been
unworn all the time they'd been together. They exchanged addresses
and agreed to write, but Emma knew there was no future in their love
affair. She returned to the bed which was once again hers and hers
alone, a fresh gap in her life as she missed the comfort of her lover.
She wasn't to remain alone for long, as now it was clear to others in
Sunbury where her tastes in love lay, she attracted the attention of
others who shared her predilections. She was soon sharing her bed
with Petula, a short-haired slim girl barely much more than five feet
tall who worked in the Montpellier wine bar. It may well have been
her gamin-like appearance which attracted Emma, who still measured
her lovers against her beloved Maisie.
Petula was a far less serious girl than Beatrice, but not one nearly as
promiscuous as Emma's friends in the city. Emma chose not to
disabuse the girl of her own opinion of how adventurous her
lovemaking was, although she felt freer to indulge in her rougher
sexual practices, which at first alarmed the girl but to which she soon
became more enthusiastic. Indeed, she came to view the bruises that
were concomitant with a passionate night spent together with a kind of
pride. They were evidence to anyone who cared to know that she had a
truly passionate sexual relationship. Although Emma missed the
conversations on literature and the arts she had so much enjoyed with
Beatrice, Petula's passion and desire more than compensated.
Furthermore, she was substantially more mature than Maisie, which at
first Emma viewed as a vice but soon came to see as a virtue. But not
so mature that she was not attracted to the one night club which
Sunbury boasted in the basement of the Bel Soleil, the largest hotel in
the resort.
Emma had never been much of a clubber. Those times she had gone to
a night club in the city with Maisie on the girl's insistence had not
been especially pleasant for her. The music was too loud and she
found the music more headache- rather than ecstasy-inducing.
However, the Chemise was not as unpleasant to Emma as those she'd
been to before, mostly for the reasons which earned Petula's contempt.
The music wasn't quite as ear-shattering and she was able to discern
tunes which she'd enjoyed listening to on the radio. It was also
pleasant to be in a place where nudity was the rule and no one stared at
her in that peculiar way they did when she attired herself as she felt
most comfortable back home. She even assented to dancing with
Petula even though she invariably found most danceable those very
tunes which Emma liked the least. However, as she gyrated woodenly
around her much more excitable lover, she began to appreciate more
clearly the patterns and rhythms in the general muddle of sound. She
might not actually want to buy these records herself, but she could see
more of their merit in the bright lights and swooping shadows of the
dance floor.
During such nights, Petula's passion rose to new heights, barely able
to keep her hands or tongue off Emma's body whether they were on
the dance floor or sitting on the margins of it with glasses of wine or
mineral water. And when they returned to Emma's flat, the sheets
were soon damp with the mutual sweat and juice of their shared
passion, occasionally bringing even Emma to orgasmic gasps which
she'd thought she'd never experience again.
Emma's misery at the loss of Maisie soon vanished altogether. She
knew that she was cured when one morning she awoke early, the rays
of the morning sun flooding through the window and lighting up
Petula's huddled form squeezed against her. She gazed at her lover,
her face wreathed in a smile even in her sleep, and felt her heart lift
inside her as she reflected that Petula was hers to enjoy and
remembered the girl's passion of the night before. She felt a smile
break across her face: quite a new sensation when she was not being
observed. And feeling the smile, she felt as if a great weight had
suddenly been dispelled. There wasn't a tinge of regret in her that
Petula wasn't Maisie. She genuinely loved the girl for what she was,
and not what she reminded her of.
She leaned over and eased her hand down between Petula's thighs to
the girl's vagina. So moist and so warm! She ran her hands through
the curled hair which was packed so tightly into a triangle. And then
kissed Petula tenderly on the forehead. Petula stirred, looked up at her
lover and her smile broadened to reveal her slightly crooked teeth
between her full lips. She sighed long and low, as the two girls
followed the rhythm and pattern of their sensual passion and were
soon wrapped together, crotch pressed against crotch, face firmly
against face, arms around each other, Petula's hands threaded through
Emma's hair and Emma's hands cupped against the nape of Petula's
neck.
Emma knew that the passion that accompanied the subsequent
lovemaking was due as much to her relief that she no longer mourned
her separation from Maisie as for her feelings for Petula. She also
knew that Petula knew nothing of her thoughts. One thing she had
been careful to avoid discussing with her was her life before living in
Sunbury. She also knew that Petula recognised a new kind of
reciprocity in Emma's feelings for her, the previous lack of which had
caused her so much unspoken grief, and now with it there brought her
to orgasm after orgasm that melted her body into Emma's own, shook
through her limbs like spasms of electricity and triggered emissions of
fluid from between her legs that both frightened and delighted her.
Emma was cured. She could now face the world with fresh
confidence. Her love for Maisie was now gone like an illness, and she
was more than ready for a fresh infestation.
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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