“Yes, we could. But we need to find a biological father.”
This was not of course a particularly difficult task for Josephine who in her years in sex theatre had met rather a lot of men who were more than willing to make love to Charlotte and her. It was necessary that in the lovemaking that both Josephine and Charlotte should be there together; otherwise it wouldn’t be ‘their’ child, as Charlotte insisted on calling it. Her view was that if the father-to-be conceived the child while making love to both of them at the same time, then in a real sense it could be said there was an equal chance of motherhood by either of the two lovers. Again, Josephine had no wish to disillusion Charlotte as to the relative probabilities.
This became a regular occurrence. Josephine would bring home with her one, two or even three male acquaintances or colleagues of different colours or ethnic backgrounds (this was not thought at all important) and before long the two lovers would immerse their bodies in each other with the additional presence of penises thrusting into their vaginas. Charlotte insisted that the men should release their sperm inside both of them, and not over their face and breasts, as some professional actors had a tendency to do. This required Charlotte or Josephine spotting the moment of seminal release and taking the black, pink or brown penis out of its current orifice as it seeped out its oozing yellowish liquid and insert it immediately in both of the girls’ vaginas in the hope of insemination. Once this was done then the intention was that the man, or any other man who was servicing them at the time, should do his best to produce more of the precious liquid for further insemination.
Some of the men Josephine brought home very much enjoyed their rôles as sperm-providers. It didn’t bother them that Josephine and Charlotte showed no interest at all in their bodies beyond their sexual equipment and its reproductive capabilities. Often they actually enjoyed being so closely involved in lesbian lovemaking and participating in a rôle of nearly minimum emotional involvement with maximum release of semen. Some men however felt somehow cheated by it all. They felt rather marginalised by the way the only tenderness and passion the two girls showed were to each other, however much their vaginas or anuses were being penetrated or stimulated by the men’s penises. Josephine could see that Charlotte, despite her avowed lesbianism, actually rather enjoyed having sex with men, as Josephine did, but the focus of their affection was very definitely each other. It might be pleasant to taste again a nice firm erect penis in between the teeth or jostling with the larynx. It might add to the ecstasy of orgasm to have a real live penis (rather than a dildo) thrusting in and out of the nether orifices. But the subject of their passion remained each other. Neither Josephine nor Charlotte felt any great feelings of affection or emotion for the men, although they soon came to have favourites who they were happy to have back again, perhaps the following night, for another chance of impregnating one or other of them.
The men were identified better by their penises than by their names, faces or personalities. Charlotte might reminisce about the particular productivity of an originally unpromising rather squat penis. Josephine might recall the length and duration of effort of another penis that might have given both of them rather more pleasure than normally but was actually rather less productive. Some men were recalled for the short time in which it took them to produce semen and how so much of it was wasted on the sheets rather than in their cunts. But the two girls’ new hobby (of which Emma, whenever she visited, disapproved totally) was one that occupied them more nights than not, filled their bodies with viscous pale fluid and required rather more changes to the sheets than had hitherto ever been necessary.
Somehow, Susan no longer felt as content in her life as before. The reorganisation of the flat left her feeling somewhat sidelined. Emma and Maisie were so rarely at the flat and whenever they were it was always Charlotte who got the most attention. Even Maisie these days seemed somehow more distant; even if she would insist on fucking Susan with whatever flavour of dildo had taken her fancy at the moment. She felt rather banished, staying in the bed with Josephine and Charlotte where she had spent so many happy months at the peak of her passion and obsession for Charlotte. Now, however, she felt obliged to admit that Josephine was to be the centre of Charlotte’s life and accept that it was indeed not a bad choice for her. The presence of men in their bedroom had made the room somehow less inviting. It reminded her too much of work to watch two men humping away at Charlotte, a penis in the arse while underneath another was deep inside her cunt. She had somehow lost her taste for male sex. It was good at work. It provided her with a living, and while she was being filmed she genuinely enjoyed having her orifices filled with rubbery but stiff organs of pleasure. However, she no longer felt that a man could provide her with quite the emotional satisfaction she craved. And as she found in her brief but passionate relationship with Aisha, not all women were necessarily going to provide it for her either.
She concentrated more effort in her work and had taken the advice of her agent in promoting herself more actively in androgynous rôles. She cut her hair short and boyish, and took to wearing shorts, shirt and tie which made her look like a curious kind of oriental school boy. She also took up the fashion of shaving her vagina every morning aware that this increased her marketability to the makers of films about androgynous sex. The actual sex didn’t change much (although there was undoubtedly a greater demand for anal penetration and even back entrance finger-fucking) but the films had a tendency to be set in schools, gymnasia and holiday camps, and there was more male homosexuality and transsexualism practised than in most films she’d been in before.
It was on the set of Teeny Fuck Vacation that Susan met Salim. She had no idea who she was of course, but had been fascinated by the sight of her during the fuck shoot when she was being penetrated anally by a man in his fifties with a Kiss Me Quick hat and very knobbly knees. She stood to one side of the set looking very mysterious in her long dark dress that came down to her ankles and the head-scarf that covered all her hair. Most women watching sets were either participants in the filming process or anxious porn starlets hoping to learn by watching the professionals at work. Salim obviously didn’t fit into either category. Susan was quite surprised to be approached by the woman afterwards who introduced herself rather shyly and asked even more timidly if they could talk somewhere after the film. Salim was somewhat older than most of the women of her acquaintance, certainly more so than anyone who’d shared her flat, but Susan could tell that her face at least was very attractive and curiously not markedly Asian at all. Susan agreed to meet, more out of fascination than anything else.
They met again at an ice cream parlour nearby where over pistachio and almond ice creams, Salim told Susan about Amna and her obsession for Susan and how much it troubled her aunt.
“She’s totally obsessed by you. It’s the only thing that seems to give her any pleasure in life. Otherwise she’s so listless and apathetic. It’s as if she doesn’t care about anything else at all.”
Susan could see the genuineness of Salim’s plea and was astute enough to guess that there was a sexual element to Salim’s concern, although she was not sure that it was likely to have been satisfied. She remembered Amna quite well as the funny little shop-girl who had taken an interest in fuck films and whom she’d helped out. She was a little surprised to learn that Amna had continued to work in the profession. Her feeling, and one shared by Aisha, was that the girl hadn’t really enjoyed her time in Hot Asian Lovers, and would probably not wish to get involved in any more films. She remembered her tearfulness after one day’s shoot in which Aisha and she had to help her to a taxi. Susan found, though, that she’d been in another fuck film, Corner Shop Cunts, and had been accepted for a rôle in Eastern Ecstasy. It upset her to discover that Amna had actually lost her virginity in the audition for Hot Asian Lovers. However, Susan couldn’t see that there was really anything she could do and accepted that Salim had come to see her pretty much out of desperation. Amna was currently spending a few
days with her family where she continued the pretence that she worked in a clerical capacity, despite the evidence of a somewhat better salary than most semi-skilled clerks would earn.
Salim took Susan back to her house and showed her Amna’s bedroom with the posters and memorabilia all around the room. Susan felt both flattered and upset. It was undoubtedly a compliment that someone should find her so attractive that they would collect videos of her non-starring films, find posters of her in the fuck posture clichés so preferred by cameramen and search out magazines which had pictures of her in them. It was also quite frightening to see herself idolised in this way. She knew from her obsession with Charlotte, that it didn’t mean that she was actually deified, but it did mean that Amna was expressing rather more interest in her than could possibly be justified. She was after all not a very unusual person and not really one of the world’s most attractive either. Her assets in the fuck film industry had been more her lack of breasts, the slimness of her body and the enthusiasm of her lovemaking. Her one-time sexual problem where she could only make love to someone while being watched had been gradually overcome as a result of her lovemaking in the flat she now shared with Josephine and Charlotte. She certainly didn’t deserve this kind of attention.
Susan felt slightly faint, so Salim thoughtfully took her downstairs to the living room. She had taken off her head-scarf, but still kept on her thick dress. She spoke sadly of how much Amna’s obsession with Susan had troubled her. How much she’d wanted to meet Susan to find out what she was like. And how pleased she was that Susan wasn’t anything like as bad a person as she thought a porn actress should be despite the disgusting and unmentionably vulgar nature of her work. It was at this stage that Susan became quite clear in her mind just how far Salim’s relationship with Amna had progressed. She took Salim’s hands in her own, squeezed them gently and muttered kind words of comfort.
At first Salim struggled ineffectually to release her hands, but she relented and let Susan’s caresses become more intimate. She was evidently upset and Susan was quite a mistress of such situations. Indeed she found Salim’s freckled face rather attractive and she enjoyed the fullness of the older woman’s smile. She soon released Salim of her thick confining dress and was surprised to see just how very sexy her choice of lingerie was. This was a world of dress habits Susan had never known about before. Most women she knew of who owned such clothes wore them only in a professional context and would never wear such clothes otherwise. Here was someone who wore silk and satin, garters and stockings, for herself rather than for the stimulation of male libidos.
Susan released herself of her shirt and trousers in a few brief gestures and stood naked in Salim’s clasp smiling lasciviously at Amna’s aunt, aware of the flash of alarm burning across her face. Salim stood up, belatedly bringing her hands up to cover the breasts that Susan had uncovered earlier.
“We can’t! You can’t! I shouldn’t! What if Amna…?”
“Do you know what Amna does every day at work?” smiled a nonplussed Susan, striding across to Salim and delicately pushing down her arms and removing the bra. “Don’t you think she already knows only too well what I do every day at work?”
“Yes, but…” began Salim, but her protests were plugged by Susan’s tongue which plunged into the woman’s welcoming mouth and was pleased by the readiness and passion of Salim’s response.
Susan spent the night in Salim’s bed, enjoying a night of passion that lacked in technique but was compensated by the extent of Salim’s curiosity. She could see that the relationship between Salim and Amna had not really progressed as far sexually as Susan was accustomed to in her relationships. Salim showed some reluctance and ineptitude in many of the activities Susan encouraged her to participate in. She had hardly considered the anus as an object of sensuality, for instance. Penetration even in the vagina had been limited to fingers and tongues, it seemed. There hadn’t been anything like the passion and ecstasy which Susan was able to orchestrate and which after several orgasms left Salim drained and helpless. She lay collapsed on her bed linen, her face burrowed into the pillow and her bottom in the air with a smile of contentment on her face that even Susan had rarely seen before.
Chapter XXX
Amna always felt that her best course of action was to retire to her own room when Aunt Salim invited her friends round. She felt sure that none of her aunt’s friends would much enjoy the presence of a teenage girl, particularly one who now habitually spent her time in the house in the nude. Her nudity seemed quite natural when only Aunt Salim was there, but she felt that it wouldn’t be quite right in front of her aunt’s friends, even if they did dress in skimpy lingerie.
Amna was sitting in the toilet, waiting for the shit she felt pushing hard against her anus to finally release itself. Recent exertions in the cause of erotic cinema had rather upset her excretory functions: making it sometimes quite painful to shit and sometimes tightening up muscles inside her that made her shits harder to achieve. Finally however the inevitable occurred and, dismissing all memories of the large man who’d been buggering her earlier today, she felt that merciful release she’d been striving for.
She stood up, flushed the loo, washed her hands and opened the door to the bathroom to be rather astonished by the sight of Fatima, one of her aunt’s closer friends, who was standing outside in her stockings and silk. Fatima was relatively young, in her later twenties, and had apparently been married and divorced already in her life. Although her devotion to Islam was unquestionable, she always seemed rather more fun to Amna than some others of her aunt’s friends who never addressed her in a way that made her feel respected. Fatima was, however, rather astonished by Amna’s naked appearance. Her eyebrows were raised high and she gave rather an embarrassed laugh after noticing that she’d been staring at Amna’s nudity for rather too long. She hurriedly rushed into the bathroom while an almost equally embarrassed Amna returned to her bedroom and the magazine she’d been reading.
Amna enjoyed the privacy of her bedroom even though she so rarely slept there these days. She liked the sense of having her own space where she could lie on the bed surrounded by images of her beloved Susan and where she could smoke the cigarettes that despite her aunt’s disapproval she had recently taken up. Most of the other girls she worked with smoked. It eradicated some of the taste of semen and saliva from the mouth and it helped to relax muscles lower down. She’d also heard that it helped to reduce weight and this was something that she was beginning to be anxious about as she became more focused on her marketable assets in the fuck film industry.
She was rather annoyed when she heard a timid knock on the door and saw her aunt poke her head round.
“Are you all right, Amna sweetheart?” Aunt Salim asked.
“Fine! Fine!” said Amna aware of the faint aroma of tobacco but glad she’d stubbed it out several minutes before.
“Do you want to come downstairs to join Fatima and me?”
“Must I?”
“Oh, Amna dearest. It’s just that Fatima was saying that it was so sad that you had to stay upstairs when she’s visiting. She was saying that it seemed so unfair on you to be stuck up here all alone.”
“I’m okay here!” Amna insisted, but felt sufficiently curious to put on the silk kimono her aunt had bought her and follow her to the living room where Fatima was sitting reading one of her aunt’s woman’s magazines. The article appeared to be something about sex and sanitary towels. Fatima smiled as Amna sat down.
“That’s a lovely kimono you’ve got on, Amna,” she complimented her friend’s niece with a broad smile. “But Salim tells me that you don’t normally wear quite as much as that. Normally you don’t wear anything.”
Amna nodded. What had Fatima and her aunt have been talking about? “A lot of clothes don’t fit me so well. I’ve just been growing too big up here,” she said indicating her chest.
“I’m sure you have! Can we see?”
“Sorry?” wondered Amna. What was her aunt
’s friend suggesting?
“Fatima’s just wondering if we could see how much your breasts have grown,” Aunt Salim elucidated. “Come on, Amna, you can’t be too shy about showing her. After all you show your body to strange people every day.”
“It’s not the same thing!” Amna replied, but nevertheless she opened her kimono so that her breasts were revealed to Fatima. They were certainly getting larger, but Amna was beginning to think they weren’t getting large enough. She’d already started asking other girls with whom she was working how their breasts had managed to be as large as they were, and although their answer that it was by surgical enhancement had at first troubled her, the idea was beginning to seem not so bad. Fatima was clearly quite impressed by Amna’s breasts as they were.
“Your niece is so beautiful!” gasped Fatima. “I can see now why you’re so very fond of her. Perhaps I can understand better how you can feel strongly towards her and not at all towards men.”
“Amna is beautiful,” reiterated Aunt Salim, standing behind her niece and easing the kimono off so that Amna stood naked in front of Fatima. “And so hairy too! Look at all this!”
Amna was feeling quite helpless but flattered as well as Aunt Salim and Fatima admired her body and her aunt took advantage of the situation to run her fingers over her body to Fatima’s apparent approval. She also felt somehow that she was taken advantage of in a more basic manner; a feeling which rather grew as Fatima was shown and praised every facet of Amna’s body that her aunt chose to point out. It seemed so inevitable that her aunt’s tongue should soon join with hers and the two were caressing on the sofa with Fatima still looking on in apparent approval. Amna protested slightly when her aunt’s hands strayed over her breasts and tweaked a nipple in her fingers.
“What will Fatima think?” she gasped, but her aunt had other ideas and engulfed her protests with a deeper kiss. She appeared even more emboldened and her hands found their way between Amna’s legs and started stimulating Amna’s clitoris. Aunt Salim gasped with the passion that was driving through her body. Amna could feel the ecstatic twitch of the muscles in her thighs as they gave vent to the low-level orgasms that her aunt had become quite adept at. Aunt Salim’s clothes had somehow also disappeared, although Amna couldn’t remember an occasion where either she or her aunt had actually removed them. Amna enjoyed the feel of her aunt’s body against hers. It was so much better and more relaxed than the physical exertions she endured in the cause of making a living. But wasn’t there something very wrong about making love while being watched by Fatima?
Emma Page 22