Emma Read online

  Emma was taken aback. “Well, that’s very kind of you …”

  “Is tomorrow night at the Iguana okay?”

  “I think so,” replied Emma, aware that she was now committed and that the one night of the week she usually reserved for visiting her home and seeing Charlotte was now taken up.

  The Iguana was a restaurant that Emma had never been to before, but it had always looked very exclusive. She had no idea what to wear, so she had to phone in advance to see if naturism was acceptable. She was surprised to find that Amelia had already taken that into account, and had booked the two of them in to a Private Dining Room. “That means, madam,” explained the gentleman from the restaurant, “that you are at license to wear, or indeed not to wear, whatever you like.”

  Nevertheless, Emma was still very nervous and bought a coat for the night. She had no idea what to buy and bought an ankle-length coat which forced her to walk in a curious and uncomfortable mincing way if she buttoned it to below the waist, which she had to do to prevent her crotch being displayed. When she arrived she was very nervous that the waiter would offer to take off her coat and reveal her nudity in a crowded room, but the waiter was incredibly discreet.

  “I dare say you would rather leave your coat on until we are in the room Ms Uruqhart has reserved.”

  The Private Dining Room was actually rather small, with just enough space for the table, guests and waiters. Emma was pleased to find Amelia already waiting for her. At first, Emma believed she was dressed as always, and then she noticed that Amelia wasn’t wearing stockings, suspenders or shoes.

  “I’m so glad you came!” smiled Amelia as Emma sat down.

  Emma soon lost her wariness as Amelia engaged her in conversation which somehow and subtly shifted away from work and general interests to Emma’s private life. By the time the main course was finished and a second bottle of champagne had been ordered, Emma found that Amelia had already guessed at her relationship with Maisie.

  “Some of the other Directors thought that maybe you just weren’t interested in sex at all - though I must say yours is a most specialist interest.”

  Amelia then found out about Emma’s relationship with Charlotte, Harriett and others. “You really don’t like men at all do you?”

  “I’ve never really considered it much,” confessed Emma who still had no opinion on her sexual identity. “They’re just friends of mine. Maisie’s my only real love.”

  “And her mother?”

  Emma confessed to her worries about that, and the way she felt that Maisie’s mother was blackmailing her into more sex with her than she really wanted. But she emphasised it was Maisie she loved. Maisie was the only person she’d ever loved.

  “I’d love to get to know Maisie a lot better,” commented Amelia, but didn’t elaborate.

  The conversation progressed from talk about relationships to Amelia’s own life history which appeared to involve a great deal of travelling, being interviewed, being photographed and spending a lot of money. The way Amelia described it, it was easy to forget that any of the films she’d been in had ever involved fucking at all. In fact, as Emma had heard somewhere else, one of the secrets of Amelia’s success was her ability to take complete penises into her mouth and down her throat.

  This wasn’t a skill that Emma witnessed after the meal, but she witnessed many others, when Amelia steered a quite tipsy Emma into a taxi and then into the bedroom of her substantial town house. The door was answered by a quite short and slender black woman in an apron and nothing else who prepared the two women a cup of coffee which was brought to them in Amelia’s bed. Emma had experienced enough love from women to appreciate Amelia’s sexual skills, but she could see that Amelia was a little surprised by Emma’s sexual appetite and by its tendency towards roughness.

  “That Maisie must be battered black and blue!” she commented.

  Emma smiled and squeezed her teeth more firmly on Amelia’s firm toe-sized nipple. Rough? Not to Maisie, she wasn’t. She would only treat the girl with the tenderness and care she deserved. True love is never rough.

  The following morning Emma was awoken by Amelia’s servant with a breakfast tray that contained a selection of breakfast foods.

  She looked around her, but could see no sign of Amelia. She looked at the servant questioningly. The servant wore the same clothes, or lack of, as the night before but appeared no more aware of this than Emma who was generally only belatedly aware of what other people wore, if anything at all.

  “Madam’s already left for the studio,” the servant said with a reassuring smile. “She said that if you wish to see her, the door to her office is always open.”

  Emma thanked the servant, who left with her black bottom showing as she turned out of the bedroom and shut the doors behind her. Emma relished her breakfast and stayed under the silk sheets for far longer than she’d intended, relishing its sheer luxury and enjoying the thoughts of her passionate night. She restrained herself from masturbating to the memory - she didn’t want to add more stains to the already love-stained sheets. Eventually, she emerged and with the assistance of the servant, who magically appeared just when she was needed, she found her overcoat and made her way across town to the Harlot TV studio where she had to supervise a children’s pissing programme.

  This was an idea of Emma’s which exploited the fascination that children had for pissing and other excretory functions. It was much the same as any children’s programme except for the prevalence of excretion jokes and demonstrations of guests’ skills at pissing and, to a much lesser extent, shitting. Emma didn’t actually enjoy the show at all, - the smell was dreadful and she didn’t envy the cleaning staff at all - but it had become one of Harlot TV’s most popular programmes and had spawned a tamer equivalent on mainstream television.

  After the show, she decided to take Amelia’s offer and find out just how open the door to her office actually was. She walked down the corridor with rather more trepidation than usual, feeling the eyes that always trailed her naked body were somehow able to detect her present destination and intention. She knocked on the door of the room just outside Amelia’s office where Betty, her personal assistant, would sit and where there were seats for waiting visitors. Betty was sitting at her desk in her smart, immaculately pressed suit with a computer screen in front of her, occasionally pressing a key and moving a mouse around. Betty smiled as soon as Emma appeared, and, without waiting for Emma to say what she wanted, she said, “I’ll see if Ms Uruqhart is able to see you. Please take a seat.”

  She stood up and walked precisely on her stilettos to Amelia’s office, while Emma sat down on one of the lush leather chairs. It felt deliciously cool against her naked buttocks. Betty left the door sufficiently ajar for Emma to see Amelia’s stockinged legs high up in the air whilst a man was thrusting in and out of her.

  Emma felt a curious twinge of disconcertment. Amelia definitely wouldn’t want to see her now, she thought with disappointment, but at a deeper level she felt hurt that Amelia would need sex so soon after their night of passion and with a man as well. She saw Betty lean over close to Amelia and pass a few words, not seemingly at all abashed by Amelia’s intimacy. She then strode out to the reception area leaving the door still ajar.

  “Ms Uruqhart says that she’s temporarily tied up entertaining a customer, but that she would be more than delighted if you would accept me as a substitute for the meantime.”

  Emma wasn’t at all sure she’d heard Betty quite right. “What do you mean?” she asked hoarsely.

  “Ms Uruqhart is not a lady who likes to disappoint those whom she considers to be her lovers, - and you are one of the very select whom she now considers in that capacity. Consequently, she would much rather that I made love to you than you were to leave unsatisfied.”

  “That’s very considerate of her…”

  “You need not worry about discretion. Ms Uruqhart has a room set aside for exactly this purpose. So if you could just follow me, please?”


  Emma was actively considering finding her way out of this embarrassing situation, but somehow Betty’s very matter-of-fact approach and the feeling that she’d somehow be disappointing Amelia if she didn’t, encouraged her to follow Betty into Amelia’s office. Amelia was on the desk, her legs in the air and her stilettos still on, while a very hairy pair of buttocks was rhythmically pushing in and out of her. As Emma walked by Amelia turned her face towards her, with sweat pulsing down her face, and smiled welcomingly. “I’m so … glad that … you … decided to … decided to … come…” she gasped between thrusts. “To come! To come!” She became thoroughly distracted as the quite stout man on top of her leaned back with his mouth open pushing deeper and deeper into her. “Bet … ty won’t … disapp …point you! … Ohhh! God! … God!”

  Emma was no stranger to watching men making love to women. Normally she saw at least one such event each day, and usually in the flesh. She still felt uncomfortable about it, partly because it was something she’d not done herself, but it was a discomfort lessened by her complete indifference to the people involved. This time it was different - perhaps because she still felt warm from her very recent sex with Amelia.

  Betty, however, was not a bad substitute for Amelia as Emma soon found, and the presence of Amelia’s lovemaking in the room next to them actually seemed to stimulate their passion. Betty had taken her to a small room at the corner, the door of which Emma had seen before but had assumed to lead to an adjoining office. In fact, the room consisted of only a large mattress which filled all the floor-space and a window that let in light from outside.

  Betty divested her clothes before entering the room. All she wore under her smart suit were knickers and a bra, which she folded up neatly on a chair. She demurely pulled off her stockings, taking especial care not to snag them on her toe-nails. Then the two of them fell onto the mattress in the room and started making love in a very gentle way. Emma found Betty demure and perhaps reticent in a way she’d come to associate with Maisie, but at the same time she felt a little bored that Betty skirted around her genitals and spent so much more time licking and embracing her breasts.

  “Do you make love to women very often?” Emma wondered.

  “Not very often,” admitted Betty, sitting up so that her trim figure was silhouetted against the window through which Emma assessed that anyone with a pair of binoculars in the building opposite would have a very clear view of what the two girls were doing.

  “How often is that?”

  “Only when Ms Uruqhart requests,” she said with a slightly troubled frown. “Aren’t I pleasing you?”

  Emma smiled as broadly as she could at Betty’s admission of inexpertise. “Of course you are,” she said, and then took complete control of the lovemaking. It was clear that Betty’s experience of lovemaking with women had generally been with fairly inexperienced ones, perhaps only those Amelia had seduced. Betty was soon to realise that sex with a woman could be just as rough and physical as it could be with a man, and was clearly surprised by the strength of the orgasms that Emma orchestrated and the pain throbbing from her vagina and anus afterwards.

  “It’s never been like this before,” she confessed, when the two re-emerged into Amelia’s main office to find the room empty.

  Betty walked to a basin in the corner of the office and sponged clean her lower regions and patted them dry with a towel. “Ms Uruqhart is no doubt keeping her dinner appointment with the representative from Turkish television,” she commented.

  Emma smiled and kissed Betty full on the lips. “I wouldn’t have liked to have delayed her appointment.”

  Betty then carefully reattired herself and led Emma back to the reception area where she reasserted herself in her seat.

  “Ms Uruqhart will be very pleased if you would visit her at any time that suits you, and will endeavour to avail herself on your next visit,” she said in an officious manner. Then she smiled slightly wickedly. “And if she is not able to do so, she will endeavour to assist by any other means.”

  Chapter XIV

  Emma was hardly ever at home these days. Where she was Charlotte didn’t really know. She believed that Emma was still seeing that teacher, Dorothy, and one of Emma’s colleagues had told her that it was now common knowledge that she was having a relationship with her boss.

  Charlotte felt totally excluded from Emma’s life. It seemed that the only times Emma ever came back to the flat was when Charlotte was out - perhaps spending the night at Josephine’s or still at work. Whatever it was, though, Charlotte knew she wasn’t part of it, and she was sure that Emma wasn’t paying her enough attention to be bothered to intentionally avoid her. Nevertheless, Charlotte was a faithful lover and nothing that Emma could or couldn’t do would shake her love for her flatmate.

  Perhaps, she hoped, when Harriett returns from her jaunts abroad, Emma might be home more often. But even that hope - compromised as it was by her feelings that she’d again be excluded from their lovemaking - didn’t seem very likely judging from Harriett’s last letter from Baghdad where she was making a sex film with a Kurd with whom she claimed to have fallen passionately in love. It seemed that Harriett had more or less forgotten about returning home. Every assignment she had seemed to lead to another assignment in yet another exotic location. Charlotte felt incredible envy at her good luck in visiting and working in places she’d only vaguely heard of, and then in the most bizarre of places: Damascus, Samarkand, Shanghai, Puerto Rico, the list was endless. Charlotte hadn’t realised that the sex industry was so widespread, but then these were modern days and the sex industry was the world’s single largest industry (or so she read once).

  However, Charlotte wasn’t actually lonely. In fact, her position as the last of her flatmates to stay in actual residence was not at all a lonely one. Her relationship with Josephine was building towards an intimacy and passion that outstripped anything she’d had with Emma. However much she pretended that her love for Emma was unassailable, the evidence of her heart as she greeted Josephine when she came back from work was that Emma had become pretty much the secondary passion. It was difficult to be sure what Josephine’s feelings towards her actually were, though she was sure that she had no other lover. However, as Josephine made a living from making love with people, it was not for sex that she needed a relationship.

  Josephine was always much more enthusiastic about taking work in stage performances rather than in film or television, despite the fact she earned more from a short slot in an advertisement or a short role in a film than from a month’s run with a production in the theatre. However, she was in a play at the moment where she played a princess in a harem in a production of Sindbad the Sailor. This production seemed to spend far more time between the harem sheets than anywhere else, and even though Josephine’s role was fairly minor she still had to have sex with Sindbad, a portly actor with a stuck-on goatee beard, and two of the other harem girls.

  “The advantage of a stage performance,” Josephine asserted while the two girls were resting after their lovemaking, “is that you make love to the same people every night. No surprises, you see. The disadvantage, however, is making love to the same boring people night after night. No surprises at all.”

  “Don’t you get tired of it?” wondered Charlotte.

  “Not tired exactly,” Josephine considered. “A bit sore perhaps. But not tired so much. And anyway if you know what your partner’s going to do, you can concentrate on your lines. Make sure you come at the right time.”

  “What are the girls like?” wondered Charlotte who felt a sudden spasm of jealousy. She’d seen Josephine on stage, and it seemed to her that her lover had particularly enjoyed the scene in which the black and blonde girls were having sex with her. She felt a particular pang when one of the girls inserted a long steel phallus into her vagina while the other put her tongue into her anus. Why did Josephine have to be such a convincing actor?

  “Not as good as you, darling,” responded Josephine, who as always knew
precisely the right thing to say.

  Despite Emma being such an infrequent visitor, Charlotte kept her vagina shaved as a kind of reminder to herself, if nobody else, of the love she felt towards her. It was a ceremony every morning, to perch by the bidet filled with hot water and to carefully scrape off the bristles of pubic hair. It was not, however, a ceremony that Charlotte needed to do herself. Susan had left her boyfriend and had moved into the flat as a permanent guest. Susan didn’t shave her own vagina any more - she’d been somehow more upset by Emma’s treatment of her than Charlotte could have imagined and was quite happy to lose this memory of the incident. However, she made clearer than ever her passionate love for Charlotte. A passion she said that eclipsed any previous passion in her life.

  This passion rather embarrassed Charlotte, who, although she was quite fond of Susan, couldn’t say that she actually had passionate feelings for her. Well, not feelings that compared to those she held for Josephine or Emma. This didn’t trouble Susan, however, who went to the trouble of moving her own bed into Charlotte’s bedroom so that there was plenty of space for her as well whenever Josephine was staying the night. Charlotte’s love for Josephine didn’t prevent Susan leaving her boyfriend, as she claimed it was hypocritical to stay with someone who was not your first love. She even went to the extent of having her shoulder tattooed with Charlotte’s name surrounded by a festoon of oriental flowers - the only tattoo on her body. This was so that when she was being filmed making love, the viewers would know the name of the only person she truly loved.

  Charlotte and Susan did, in fact, make love together. Part of Susan’s love for Charlotte was apparently because she had at last found a lover to whom she could make love without being watched by others. “You make me feel more whole!” she would say to Charlotte in her frequent outbursts of praise and adoration. “With you I am a whole person!”