Charlotte put a reassuring arm around Enid’s shoulder and pulled her head onto her breast. The office was empty. The working day had finished and the cleaner was busy on another floor of the building. She had stayed late to finish some paperwork that she had allowed to accumulate and hadn’t expected Enid to stay late too. She suspected that the young girl had stayed on precisely for the reason of chatting to her, something which Charlotte actually rather appreciated. She often felt quite an outcast in the office. Sometimes, she reflected on her own foolishness in expecting her colleagues to share her attitudes and outlook.
“You’re very young. Opportunities will come. You’ll see!”
“But how long will I have to wait?”
“I had to wait a long time, too.”
“But you’ve got such a wonderful lover! Why not me? Why can’t I have a girlfriend like Josephine? Someone to love. Someone who loves me. Why not me?” A small tear trickled from the corner of her eye, down her round freckled cheek and onto her bare shoulder. Charlotte brushed it out from her salt cellar and smiled sympathetically. It wasn’t so long ago that her own feelings of frustration resembled those of Enid’s. She knew only too well the pain of unrequited love, and still felt a pang when she reflected on Emma’s preference for the flighty child that dominated her affections. Although nowadays her rôle was as Emma’s confidante as she complained about her young lover’s unfaithfulness, she still had the feeling that Emma would have been so much happier had she accepted Charlotte’s love earlier. Charlotte sighed.
“Don’t cry! You’ve got a lifetime ahead of you! You’ll find someone. I know you will!” She smiled into Enid’s pale blue eyes framed by a small round face that looked even younger from the severe short hairstyle she preferred and the smattering of light brown freckles that spread over her cheek, nose and onto her small perky breasts.
“Oh! Charlotte! Say it won’t be too long!” Enid wailed. She pressed her head hard onto Charlotte’s chest, her sharp chin on the ribcage and a warm dampness trickled between the breasts.
“It won’t be! It won’t be!” Reassured Charlotte, raising Enid’s chin with her hand and facing her. She kissed her affectionately on the lips and was rather startled when Enid’s hands grasped her by the back of her neck and thrust her tongue inside her mouth. The salty taste of Enid’s saliva mingled with hers, and despite an initial reserve, a warm sensuous feeling overcame her and she returned Enid’s inexpert kisses with her own practised ones. Enid gripped Charlotte tighter, her eyes closed, as she pushed and pushed her mouth into Charlotte’s, her tongue exploring deep inside the internal contours of her mouth.
Charlotte had become too accustomed to lovemaking. It was such an integral part of her life. Sex with Emma, Susan, Fatima and all the men who she’d invite to her flat. It all merged into one sensual experience of which her affection mostly concentrated on Josephine. But Enid was such a nice young girl: pretty and affectionate. So obviously enamoured of her. She’d often observed the slight choke in Enid’s voice when they passed in the corridor, the way her eyes wandered about, but focused again and again on her body and the short trimmed hairs of her vagina. Perhaps it was right to give her the love which she had so readily granted the men in the office and who had so much loved thrusting deep into her cunt while she caressed and kissed Josephine ever in attendance and waiting for her turn at penetrative sex.
And so it was that Charlotte reciprocated to Enid’s youthful passion, stimulating her clitoris with her fingers, stroking and massaging her vagina, and soon plunging her tongue into its youthful recesses while Enid exercised her own with a passion and urgency she recognised from her own earlier lovemaking with Josephine. The two wrestled together over the nylon carpets of the office, knocking over the recently emptied wastepaper bin, banging Charlotte’s head against the back of a desk, while a leg frantically pushed at the leg of a chair. Enid’s dedication to the lovemaking charmed Charlotte who watched as she pushed her tongue deep into her vagina, nibbled at her hardened clitoris and sweated onto her outspread legs.
As the two of them huddled in postcoital embrace, sweat running down the nobbled contours of their spines, Charlotte wondered what she had let herself in for. Was she being unfaithful to Josephine? Was she complicating her love life with her work in an irreversible way? She looked at Enid whose eyes focused above her shoulder to the desk. She followed Enid’s gaze to the photograph of Josephine.
“Oh! You and Josephine are so lucky!” Enid sighed.
Charlotte smiled. How could she be unfaithful to Josephine when Enid was as keen on her continued relationship as she was herself? Comforted by this thought, she took Enid’s face in her hands and plunged her tongue once more into the welcoming red darkness of her mouth.
Enid’s flatmate, Hyacinth, was a black girl who studied at the neighbouring Art School, where her specialities were life drawing and sculpting. She was even poorer than Enid, her allowance being very low and so too her grant. She was about the same age as Enid, but shared very little of her enthusiasm for naturism or lesbianism. However, the bedsit was very small and there was only one bed, which they inevitably had to share. She had thick black wavy hair, and mostly wore cut-off jeans, trainers and short slips, which revealed all her midriff and only just about reached to the bottom of her breasts. Sharing the same bed inevitably meant that she had to sleep with Enid’s passionate warm body wrapped around hers, and this close intimacy naturally led to Enid being rather more adventurous with her slim naked body than Hyacinth might normally choose. Although, it wasn’t her preference to have a girl stroking and licking her shaven cunt, she found it pleasant enough as long as Enid understood there was to be no penetration or kissing. Enid reluctantly accepted these rules, although she so often tried to contravene them, which Hyacinth found amusing, but not really to be encouraged.
Hyacinth enjoyed all the attention her flatmate paid her. The breakfasts in bed. Her daily shaving regime, which left her shaven vagina the envy of all her equally shorn fellow students. And the companionship, which was so painfully sincere it almost hurt. However, Hyacinth had no real need for Enid’s sexual attention. She already had several boyfriends at the college, mostly black like herself, although she wasn’t overly fastidious with the race of any man she’d choose to fuck with. She did, however, much prefer black man. Generally, there were possessed of better and larger penises, although she was aware that her sample of white men was not extensive enough to be a fair comparison. She much preferred dark skin, and, anyway, she had much more in common with their cultural background.
Enid was very accommodating with Hyacinth and her lovers, that was true. She would share the bed with Hyacinth and her current lover, whose buttocks pushed up and down as he thrust deep inside her cunt, her legs were tangled about her lover’s shoulders and the bed violently shaking backwards and forwards. Although, many of her lovers suggested that Enid should join, Hyacinth’s flatmate was adamant that that was the last thing she wanted. She was happy enough to see that Hyacinth was happy; perhaps getting some of her reflected joy. Hyacinth was aware that not many girls were as obliging as Enid, and she had no fears that Enid would attempt to steal her lovers from her.
Hyacinth was aware that Enid didn’t know nearly as many people in the town as she. She wouldn’t, not being a student, living away from home and working with older people who, despite mostly being naturists, were not lesbians and not inclined to spend much time with someone so much younger and so eccentric. There was only one friend Enid had made, an older woman, Charlotte, who Enid was very enthusiastic about. She was also a lesbian and a naturist, but Hyacinth could see that Enid’s affection was compromised by the presence of Charlotte’s lover, Josephine, an actress currently performing in Country Girls are Hard To Love, which was on at the New Crucible Theatre. She also realised that it was more Josephine than Charlotte who most attracted Enid’s attention, even though she’d never met her and had only seen the photographs which Charlotte was happy to show her and even lend
her. Josephine was not a naturist and far from being only lesbian in her tastes. From the photographs, Josephine seemed relatively demure and modest, even without her clothes, which was a state seen in only a minority of the photographs.
“We must go and see Country Girls!” Said Enid on more than one occasion. “I’d just love to see Josephine perform.”
“But is the play any good?” Wondered Hyacinth, who wasn’t really much of a theatregoer. Indeed, she’d usually found plays either very confusing or very boring.
“It must be!” Enid insisted. “Or Josephine wouldn’t be in it!”
Hyacinth accepted the twisted logic, but noted that Josephine wasn’t really the leading performer. Her rôle was as a country lady in the early nineteenth century village where the play was set. She would, of course, be expected to have sex with one or more of the other actors, and as far as Hyacinth was concerned this would at least compensate for the boredom she feared would inflict her between sex scenes.
The New Crucible was a medium-sized theatre with slightly worn seats, but most of these were filled when the play began. Hyacinth and Enid sat together near the front in seats that were far more expensive than Hyacinth would normally have contemplated, but it was Enid’s treat (one of so many her flatmate insisted on lavishing on her!), so Hyacinth couldn’t really grumble. The play was a nineteenth century fuck story about a couple from the big city who had come to the country seemingly with only the purpose of fucking as many country ladies as they could. One of these was Josephine who in the first of the three acts managed to keep all her clothes on. These suited Josephine quite well, Hyacinth noted. The long dress, the high laced collar, the ringed hair and the tight bodice were well suited to Josephine’s general demeanour and appearance. She played very well the rôle of someone genuinely shocked by the city dwellers predatory sexual habits, blushing convincingly as she watched the two visitors fuck her maid who kept on her cotton stockings and her dress while being fucked from behind while the woman kissed her.
It was in the second act that the character played by Josephine was seduced and had sex with the man. This began with a sequence of fellatio, where she took the whole of his penis into her mouth, and engineered it into a very creditable erection. As large a one as any of Hyacinth’s black lovers, but then actors were often selected for this very attribute. Josephine showed her skills as an actress in remembering her lines between times of having the penis in her mouth, and taking off her clothes with a shyness which belied the fact that this was something she was fairly used to doing in front of an audience, and had of course done many times before in the run of the production. It was then that the man, with the improbable name of Roger Ramrod, pushed his penis hard and twitching firmly into Josephine’s trimmed cunt.
Enid found all this very exciting. Hyacinth glanced down to see that Enid had removed her knickers, which lay over her buckled shoes, and gently stroked her cunt with the hand that wasn’t gripped tight in Hyacinth’s own. Enid was stroking the perimeter of her vulva, her finger occasionally dipping inside where Hyacinth could see its moistness. Then, when Josephine and Roger Ramrod were unexpectedly joined by the maid, who was this time totally naked except for her stockings and a bow in her hair, Enid took Hyacinth’s black hand firmly to her cunt, and pressed it against her. She smiled broadly at Hyacinth.
“Oh! Isn’t Josephine wonderful!” Whispered Enid. “She’s all I imagined she’d be and more!”
Hyacinth nodded. She didn’t really mind Enid pressing her fingers against her cunt. It did feel very moist and warm. She allowed Enid to push a couple of fingers deep inside, and tenderly kissed her flatmate on the cheek, noting with indulgent affection the flush of warm passion that spread over Enid’s face. On stage meanwhile, Josephine and her maid were locked in deep embrace, while Roger Ramrod fucked both of them in turn. As Roger came to his climax, brandishing his penis like a weapon over the two of them, semen visible even from this distance as it spurted out on his two lovers, Enid had pushed all of Hyacinth’s hand inside her, the fingers now rather sticky and smelly. This wasn’t the first time that Enid had done this, though usually in the privacy of their shared bed, but Hyacinth could see that the true object of Enid’s passion was not herself but Josephine.
In the final interval, Enid tearfully embraced Hyacinth, while the tall woman next to her glanced at the two of them disdainfully but curiously.
“I don’t know if I can take much more of this play!” Joked Hyacinth. “It’s just wearing my fingers out!” In fact, she had found the play rather shallow on the whole. She’d seen much better acting in the cinema, the plot was a little dull and it was really only the fucking and Enid’s response to it that encouraged her to stay at all.
In the third act, there was more fucking than in the first two, but Josephine’s rôle, rather like her sexual passion, was mostly spent. Her only participation was fairly minor, and involved fellating the Right Reverend Randolph who was meanwhile being buggered simultaneously by the indefatigable Roger Ramrod. This disappointingly brief appearance didn’t trouble Enid, who again took Hyacinth’s hand to her cunt, pumping away at her moist, hot interior, until, with the Right Reverend over Josephine’s face, Enid also came, panting with passion and ecstasy to the obvious discomfort of almost everyone around them.
“Oh! Hyacinth!” Gasped Enid, leaning onto her shoulder, tears running down her freckled cheeks. “Oh! Hyacinth! Now I know what being in love is like!”
Hyacinth started. This was not a welcome change of events. “Not with me, I hope!”
“No, silly!” Laughed Enid. “With Josephine! She’s so beautiful, so talented, so wonderful. I love her! I love her so much! Charlotte’s so lucky! Oh! I love Josephine!”
Hyacinth settled down. That wasn’t so bad then, although she foresaw difficulties ahead. After all, weren’t Charlotte and Josephine due to get married soon?
Chapter XXXVII
Amna was sitting on the sofa in the living room, when Salim entered after her long day at work. As always, she was naked apart from the curiously ornate ebony dildo she had strapped around her waist. It was Amna’s current favourite, and one she hardly ever took off. Salim had examined it at length and was impressed by the subtle markings which formed the bodies of women writhing about, their hair and limbs making up the shape of the massive glans and the heavy round balls. It must have cost Amna quite a lot. Salim herself dressed as seductively as she could in an attempt to stimulate her niece’s interest in her. She wore a bra which supported her round apple breasts but didn’t hide her nipples, and knickers which had a very wide slit which slightly opened as she walked to reveal the short trimmed hair of her vagina. She greeted Amna, who was distractedly watching a soap opera on the television where the main character, a young girl was passionately kissing another woman, who was nearly totally naked. She sat on the sofa next to her niece, put an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. Amna turned her head and kissed her aunt in return on the lips. She then turned her gaze back to the television where a young man was removing his leather jacket but keeping on his dark sunglasses.
Salim gently stroked her niece’s long hair, and studied her beautiful naked body. Her breasts had been further enhanced on Fatima’s advice, and her nipples stood up even prouder on the firm mountains of her chest. Her thighs were slightly fuller, giving her a more Negroid body than anyone with her genes would ever normally have. The crotch which had once been such an irrepressible tangle of dark hair was even smoother as the result of some hormonal treatment that Fatima had organised for her. What had happened to all that hair? Salim wondered. Distasteful as these ‘enhancements’ were to Salim, they didn’t disturb or upset her as much as the small tattoo that Amna had done on her shoulder, which portrayed an erect penis spurting realistic globules of semen and had the ornate letters Fluff written on them. What had that slut done to her niece? Her parents would be horrified if they knew the depravities her ward had descended to!. Not only was she a professional sex actress, but
her lover was the most repulsive slut anyone could ever hope to meet. Not that Salim loved her any the less. She knew that it was as much to do with her jealous passion as her disapproval of Fluff which made her so unhappy with how things had changed.
She and Amna still shared the bed together, and still made love. And Salim still insisted that Amna should never use any of her sexual aids on her. But she felt that her niece was becoming more distant, as she so often made her passionate proclamations of love for her sluttish friend. If only they’d never met! Salim wished. If only their love could return to where it had been! The only compensation was that now she had Fatima as a lover too, although she was unhappy to discover that she shared her best friend not only with her niece (which was bad enough!) but also with Susan and many of Susan’s friends. She agreed though to collaborate with Fatima in keeping Amna unaware of this relationship, believing as did Fatima, that Susan was best loved from afar. It still seemed ironic to her that Susan had slept with both her and Fatty, but not with the one who was arguably her greatest admirer, even now. Amna’s room was still adorned by pictures of the oriental girl, and there could be few films in which she’d performed which Amna didn’t now possess in her extensive if also obsessive library of videodiscs.
Salim persuaded Amna to stroke her bared nipples and gasped appreciatively as her niece’s fingers traced their aureate edges, while her own fingers gently massaged the length of Amna’s dildo, enjoying the curves and contours of the carved naked figures. Perhaps she could bring Amna’s mouth to hers, and feel again the hot moistness of her tongue against her teeth. Perhaps she could enjoy again Amna’s tongue pressing against her hard erect clitoris. Perhaps Amna could remove her gaze from the lovemaking on the screen and indulge in more real lovemaking. But as Salim’s mind focused more on her fantasies she heard the front door draw shut. Who could it be? Her heart jumped. Could it be Fatty back from a day of promotion and selling? That would be welcome. Or could it be the only other person besides herself and Amna who had a key to the flat?
Emma Page 28