Emma Read online

  Emma found all this very interesting, but she wasn’t sure how especially relevant much of it was to her relationship with Maisie. She turned to the index to see what other sections there were. This proved to be promising. There was a section on Single Parents and the Single Friend, Group Sex and Children, The Growing Child and Techniques for Appropriate Physical Intimacy. Some of the illustrations showed various kinds of intimacy, in which the two children on the flyleaf and some others had penises and dildos inserted inside them, and others where the children were shown applying their tongues greedily to clitorises, anuses and erect penises. There was even a section concerning the swallowing of semen, with a photograph of the girl, Jennifer, splattered with semen from several penises of quite differently aged males.

  However, this was Emma’s lunch break and she had to get back to the studio fairly promptly before filming was due to start. Emma closed the book and discreetly slipped it into her bag. Guiltily looking around her, she stood up and made her way back.

  After work, Emma wandered into a nearby naturist café, where she knew she wouldn’t be disturbed as she sat down with a pot of tea and continued reading Delia Cook’s book. She wasn’t too sure what she expected to achieve by this exercise. She wasn’t at all sure that her relationship with Maisie really had a great deal in common with the typical relationships described in the book. There was no real family intimacy involved at all now that to all intents and purposes Maisie was no longer living with her mother but was more or less a permanent resident at Emma’s flat.

  She poured some milk into the cup until the tea went the right shade of brown and, this time, managed to avoid the usual puddle of milk on the saucer as it fell awkwardly out of its pot. She wasn’t at all sure how Maisie felt about sharing a flat with older women, but the girl never complained and Emma was happy that she seemed to get on so well with Charlotte’s lovers, Josephine and Susan. In fact she seemed to get on with them as if they were girls her own age.

  Emma carefully flicked through the pages of her book - careful to obscure a view of the cover from any prying eyes (though most eyes would have concentrated on her naked body) until she came to a section about gradually introducing a child to sex.

  It would not be for me to advise this for all readers - indeed many may find it distasteful - but I recall one method that appeared to have sterling results where a young girl was weaned from infancy not only from the breast but from the penis. She soon came to associate the one with milk and the other with semen. The justification is that semen is a very nutritious, high protein addition to a child’s diet. This may be so - but it gave her father and other males in the immediate family a great deal of pleasure which by all accounts was shared by the girl. It had the additional benefit that whereas the breasts soon lose the ability to provide milk, the penis remains productive for very much longer. When I met the girl she was almost in her teens, but was delighted to entertain us by demonstrating her skills at milking my husband’s penis.

  Emma found the subject of penises quite revolting, and flicked through the pages to see if there was very much on the subject of love between the younger girl and the older woman. There did seem to be a great deal about penises however.

  There is a certain amount of impatience in all families to introduce daughters and sons to the joys of anal sex. My own advice is that generally it is best that one take advantage of the smaller but still active organ of the younger male. In this way, novices of either sex to the delights of such intimacy can be gently enticed towards it not inconsiderable pleasures.

  This section of the book was enlivened by a black-and-white photograph of a boy’s penis completely engulfed by an immature vagina, with the caption: Martin demonstrates his gentleness with Jennifer.

  Emma flicked through the pages while nonchalantly sipping from her cup. She frowned disapprovingly at the faint smell of tobacco wafting from the smoking tables at the far end of the café. Her eyes caught the heading Naturism and Clothes Policy. This surely would be of interest to her, Emma told herself, comfortably opening the pages open at a picture of Delia Cook’s family sitting in an open field having a picnic and wearing no clothes.

  Different families have different attitudes towards what are the appropriate clothes for the intimate family to wear. My own preference (and one which I hold firmly) is that whether or not one is considering the intimate family or just one’s own contentment there is nothing that matches a naturist disposition.

  Emma warmed quite visibly towards Delia Cook at this piece of advice.

  However, there are those who for one reason or another believe that naturism by its very simplicity and naturalness doesn’t truly express the nature of the intimate family as they themselves perceive it. And indeed, this may actually be the more honest view of those who don’t feel completely comfortable in just their own nakedness. One family I know of brought up the two sons such that until early puberty they dressed and were made-up as girls. The boys had taken to it so thoroughly that one of them opted to remain a transvestite into his adult years. The reason for this preference was that both parents enjoyed the contrast of the boys’ apparent and actual genders.

  Emma wasn’t at all happy to consider such perversions, and flicked randomly through the book.

  There comes a time when the intimate family has to fully face up to the fact that the children have a life and friends of their own. In particular, there is the necessity of being aware that many of their friends will have a certain amount of unease and distrust concerning intimate relations between those whose family bonds are so tight. It is therefore necessary for the parents and even the siblings, at least initially, to exclude themselves from any physical intimacy (even those which are not penetrative or do not involve bodily fluids) unless expressly invited to join in. It is to be hoped that in a well-adjusted family that soon all the family will be able to share in the physical pleasures offered by the friends of one’s children. In fact, some of my best intimate experiences have been in the company of my children and their schoolfriends once the stigma that some children attach to fucking Mummy has worn off.

  The distinct impression inculcated on Emma from reading this book was how natural and normal child sex and incest seemed. Why, she wondered, didn’t everyone try it? She looked around her at the naked bodies of other people in the café, and spotted a mother and father with two children. They were both girls about seven or eight years old. Emma tried to envisage the family making love together. She concentrated on the image of the father’s penis rammed inside the younger girl’s immature vagina. She really didn’t find the image at all pleasant. She then thought of her own parents (whose naked bodies she’d so rarely seen) and the thought of them having any kind of sex with her at any age (and especially at the ages they were now) really didn’t inspire any desire in her at all.

  Emma turned to the final pages of the book where the publishers advertised the other books that they published in their series of sex manuals and treatises. At the head of the list was InterSpecies Lust, which promised to be a book which revealed the truth of sexual practices between people and animals, particularly in agricultural communities, and gave discreet advice on the practical problems that participants might confront. Another book was entitled Faecal Fantasy, and as its title suggested it dealt with the benefits and health hazards of a sex life that included defecation and urination as standard features. Some of the books seemed fairly tame in comparison: TransSexuality for Pecuniary Gain, Suicide and Sex, The Extended Sexual Partnership and Computer Stimulated Sex : Better than the Real Thing?

  Emma didn’t feel inclined to buy or even read any of these books - and having seen enough videos in her job concerned with sex of every kind she had a fairly precise knowledge of what it might be that she would be missing as a result. However it did force her to concentrate her mind on what it was that she considered to be desirable in a relationship. And the only image that sprang to her mind was of Maisie’s naked body stretched out below aching for Em
ma’s tender caresses.

  Chapter XVIII

  It had been a long night, Josephine reflected as she opened her eyes and squinted at the shaft of light streaming in through the window and the specks of dust floating in it. A long night! After all the rehearsals going on beyond midnight and then the inevitable hour or so at a night-club with the rest of the cast, where they danced naked to the vibrations of loud music and the rainbow of visuals to lose the smell of sex from their bodies. At the earliest hours of the morning, when Josephine had recovered her clothes from the cloakroom and stood on the street waving down a taxi, it was inevitable that she would choose to stay the night with Charlotte. She’d crept in, using the keys that Charlotte had lent her, and eased herself gingerly under the sheets beside the entwined bodies of Susan and Charlotte. She could just about distinguish a pleased smile of satisfaction on Susan’s face - who had presumably had sole possession of Charlotte that evening.

  Josephine was rather surprised, however, to learn how late it was when she awoke and glanced at the clock which indicated just how late in the morning it was. It was past midday, and Josephine was in bed alone with a residual hangover from the drinks and sleeplessness of the previous day. Charlotte had gone off to work and Josephine wasn’t at all sure where the others in the house were. Perhaps she was in the house alone, she thought.

  She pushed off the sheets and as she stood up glanced at the bed where there was still an indentation from where Susan and Charlotte had been sleeping. Josephine leant over and carefully removed a dark pubic hair lying there. She then wandered naked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast (or was it lunch?) and heard the murmur of conversation coming from the living room.

  She popped her head through the door where she saw Susan and Maisie talking together.

  “I’m making tea,” she announced. “Does anyone else want some?”

  Susan looked startled as she’d been engrossed in her conversation and hadn’t expected anyone else to be there, but she quickly assented and Josephine was able to return to the kitchen with a mission in hand. When she returned to the living room several minutes later with a pot of tea and some tea-cups she noticed for the first time that Susan was holding Maisie’s hand in hers and looking directly into her eyes. This didn’t mean a great deal to Josephine as Susan was an extremely tactile girl. She was wearing long woollen socks and a tee-shirt with the name of the Modern Dance Quartet emblazoned over an impressionist painting. As always she was the only one in the company wearing any clothes at all.

  “Emma’s at work, isn’t she?” Josephine asked as she poured out the tea into the cups which she had already prepared with milk.

  “Yes,” Maisie answered, smiling brightly. “It’s the first broadcast of a new Quiz Show she’s commissioned. It’s something to do with recognising your partners from only seeing their willies or fannies. I think the winners get to fuck one of a choice of studio guests.”

  “That’s sounds nice. So there’s no work for you?”

  “Not today.” Maisie leaned over and picked up her tea which was in her favourite Minnie Mouse mug. She looked directly at Josephine’s chest and then commented abruptly. “I love your tits, Josephine.”

  Josephine’s cup wobbled on the saucer that supported it. “My tits?” she wondered aloud.

  “Yes, they’re so nice and round. They’re so much bigger than Emma’s. She’s got nice tits too. They’re round with nice nipples. But yours are rounder and your nipples are sort of twice Emma’s size. I wish I had tits like yours.” She took a small but rounded nipple in her fingers and stroked it so that it became more firm. “But Mum’s breasts aren’t as big as Josephine’s. And they’re not even as nice as Emma’s. What about your tits, Susan?”

  “I’ve got ever such tiny breasts, Maisie.”

  “Why’s that?” Maisie asked freeing her hand from Susan’s hand and leaning over to stroke the outside of Susan’s tee-shirt where the breasts should be. “And why can’t you show them like everyone else?”

  “I’ve always wanted bigger breasts,” smiled Susan in a matter-of-fact way, which surprised Josephine who’d never heard her express any feeling of inadequacy about her appearance. She tugged off her tee-shirt and revealed just how very small her breasts were. Maisie stretched out both her hands to feel Susan’s breasts.

  “They’re not much bigger than mine,” Maisie commented.

  And this was true as Josephine knew. The nipples were larger and when erect it was obvious that Susan had the body of a woman - but the breasts supporting them barely raised a shadow of contour on her slim body. Maisie continued to run her fingers round and around Susan’s nipples, and then with a determined lunge she pulled herself forward onto Susan’s chest and started nibbling at them. Susan gave a slightly startled expression, but then contented herself with stroking Maisie’s hair as she covered her chest with saliva and tiny toothmarks.

  Josephine was startled by this. She knew of Emma’s sexual relations with Maisie, but spent very little time imagining them or really thinking about Maisie as a sexual creature at all. She watched slightly alarmed as Maisie’s and Susan’s intimacy gradually but progressively became more intense and Maisie’s tongue wandered down to Susan’s clitoris which she nibbled while her hands still caressed Susan’s nipples. Susan was clearly enjoying this, giving tiny little gasps of pleasure as Maisie explored her body.

  Susan placed her hands on Maisie’s head and drew it upwards. “We must go to bed,” she stated baldly. “It’s more comfortable.”

  Maisie nodded and stood up while Susan removed her socks.

  “Only if Josephine comes too,” suddenly negotiated Maisie looking towards Josephine who was sitting down in an armchair watching the proceedings with rather more fascination than most of the lovemaking she’d witnessed in the flat.

  “Of course Josephine must come,” smiled Susan, gliding over to her and causing her to abandon her cup of tea and direct her towards Emma’s bedroom. Josephine felt curiously virginal as she found herself heading towards the bed where Susan and Maisie were sprawled and had recommenced feeling and cuddling each other.

  Josephine knelt at the foot of the bed near where the two girls’ feet were and gradually worked her tongue up from Maisie’s beautifully formed feet, towards Maisie’s bald and smooth vagina. She examined it carefully between her fingers while Susan’s vagina engulfed almost all of Maisie’s tiny hand. And as her fingers and tongue probed inside she could see signs in the slight reddening of it that might, she thought, provide evidence that as far as penetration was concerned Maisie was not exactly a virgin.

  As their lovemaking continued, Josephine came to explore all of Maisie’s body with her hands and tongue. The small taut arse, with the tiny anus, the swelling mounds of breasts, the detailed maze of Maisie’s ears, the tiny teeth around Maisie’s ever-active tongue. She felt overwhelmed by the experience of making love to such a young girl. She didn’t however attain the multiple orgasms that shook Susan’s slim body or the less practised ones that burst from Maisie on occasion. But somehow this didn’t matter at all.

  “I’m home!” Josephine suddenly heard. Who could this be? She glanced at the Betty Boo alarm clock Maisie had by the side of the bed between a tiny promotional teddy-bear for Cooper’s Lentils and a plastic model of a dinosaur. It was gone four o’clock. She, Maisie and Susan had been making love for at least three hours.

  “Where is everyone?” shouted Emma’s voice from the living room. “Where are you, Maisie?”

  “We’re here!” called back Maisie, her head between Susan’s legs and her cunt just by Josephine’s mouth.

  Emma pushed open the door. “So there you are darling!” she announced initially cheerfully, supporting a parcel in her arms as she stood silhouetted by the door. Then she must have gathered what was going on. “But Maisie …”

  “Guess what we’ve been doing all afternoon!” announced Maisie. “It’s been ever so much fun!”

  “You can’t have! You shouldn’t hav
e!”

  “But you promised, Emma! You did! You did!”

  Emma suddenly ran out of the room. Josephine jumped up out of the bed to follow her. She found Emma’s naked body hunched up in a chair in the living room, tears running down her face. Emma looked up as Josephine came in, conscious that she must still smell strongly of sex.

  “Why! Why?” asked Emma.

  Josephine silently reached her hand towards Emma’s naked shoulder to try and comfort her. Emma threw it off instantly. “Don’t touch me!” she said aggressively. She glared reproachfully at her would-be comforter. “I love her! I love her!” she repeated.

  “It’s not a question of love…” Josephine began, embarrassedly aware of the presence of Maisie and Susan in the room with their arms round each other. Emma also noticed this, and with a sudden hoarse gasp, she jumped up and ran out of the room. The next thing that Josephine heard was the front door slam as Emma hurried out of the flat and raced down the apartment corridors.

  “But she promised…” weakly commented Maisie, tenderly stroking the bush of hair of Susan’s crotch.

  Chapter XIX

  Charlotte didn’t know exactly what had happened, but all of a sudden her relations in her flat had altered and undoubtedly for the better. For some reason, Emma had started being a great deal more affectionate towards her and nowadays the two girls were more often sharing Emma’s bed at night than enjoying any other arrangement. Charlotte noticed that Maisie had started sharing her bed with Susan and, when she was visiting, Josephine. Charlotte guessed (although she never witnessed it) that somehow Maisie’s affections had transferred to Susan. Certainly, it was far less often that Emma and Maisie shared the bed together, and it was on those nights that Charlotte would get to sleep in her own bed.