Emma

by Bradley Stoke

  “Good, isn’t it?” said Fluff with an amused smile, as Amna recommenced her steady rhythmic thrusts in and out of her vagina. “And it’s much better to be doing it than watching it!”

  Dalitha stood back. What was she thinking? She ran over to Aunt Salim by the mantelpiece and without thinking grasped her aunt’s hand. She watched as her sister and her lover became more and more physical, and the thrusting became fiercer and fiercer. Clearly her brief intercession in their lovemaking had stimulated the two girls to even more ferocity and passion. Aunt Salim seemed a little startled by Dalitha’s gesture, but she didn’t relinquish her niece’s hand, although she did nothing to encourage it.

  And soon Fluff and Amna were finished. In the postcoital pause that followed, Dalitha let go of her aunt’s hand, aware of what it might seem to suggest, and embarrassedly sat down on the sofa. Amna smiled strangely as her sister positioned herself, her arms clasped between the legs of her jeans and a bright red blush spread over her face. No comment was made of what had happened, even from Fluff, who as usual left to meet another of her many male lovers. The rest of the evening was spent innocently enough, watching the television, with Amna fully naked except for the grotesque black dildo which dangled awkwardly between her legs and still shimmered from the traces of Fluff’s vaginal orgasm.

  It was perhaps inevitable that the next time that Dalitha visited her aunt’s flat, it was a different occasion to all those that had come before. Dalitha herself had half-expected it to be different, although she had shied away from any coherent thought of how different it might be. The memory of her close encounter with Fluff’s vagina remained with her; seemed, in fact, to be imprinted on the tips of her fingers where they had touched her. The memory of that droplet of vaginal juice still seemed sticky on her fingers. Her nights were spent in lonely agonised masturbation, not focused on anything specific but bringing her to gasps which she hoped her parents hadn’t heard and a hot sweat that she hoped would go before the morning.

  When she went up to the flat, after ringing the doorbell, she found Amna sitting naked on the sofa next to her aunt who, for the first time, was not wearing a scarf over her hair. Nor, for that matter, her long dark dress. Unlike Amna, she wasn’t naked. She was wearing red silk lingerie which revealed to Dalitha for the first time that her aunt was really quite attractive. Aunt Salim’s body was clearly a woman’s body, and not at all like a girl’s. Her breasts were full, the thighs and hips were also more full, and her arms had a womanly plumpness and none of the girlish slimness of her sister’s arms. She still looked a little awkward, however, and somewhat embarrassed.

  Dalitha sat down on the chair that had almost become her own, settling into the familiar cushions, aware that the television was off and that the stereo was playing some soft ambient jazz music. She smiled awkwardly at her sister and her aunt. “Aren’t we watching Homefield Grove?” she asked, aware that this was the time the soap opera normally began.

  Amna smiled broadly, ignored her question. “Why don’t you take off your clothes?” she asked quietly.

  “What!” gasped Dalitha. “I couldn’t …”

  “Don’t be silly. You know you’d feel more comfortable if you did. And anyway I don’t wear any, do I?”

  “I’m not sure that…” Dalitha began, but nevertheless surrendered to her sister’s request. She pulled off the tee-shirt she wore with its picture of the boy band In Tune. It eased off over her shoulders and she pulled her arms through its elbow-length sleeves. She then unstrapped her bra so her rounded, still forming breasts were revealed: the nipples puffed up a slightly darker brown than the rest of her breasts. And then she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her shorts, pulling them over her slim legs and over her trainers. She sat there wearing just her frilly cotton knickers and her air-soled trainers glancing up at Amna and Aunt Salim. Amna gestured impatiently that Dalitha remove these last vestiges, which Dalitha did: starting with the trainers, which she placed neatly by the pile of clothes she’d already removed, and then with a blush which gave a shine to her face and chest, she removed her knickers to reveal the smooth hair which had spread over her crotch and the vaginal crack which pursed inwards rather than out like her sister’s.

  Amna smiled, and then without a word unstrapped Aunt Salim’s own bra from behind, revealing two very round apple-shaped but still womanly breasts: the nipples large in a deep aurora of a darker brown than the rest of her light brown freckled skin. She kissed her aunt tenderly on the cheek. “What do you think of Aunt Sally? Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”

  Salim blushed visibly and smiled despite herself. Dalitha sighed. “She’s very pretty,” she ventured.

  “And not just here!” announced Amna. Salim stood up shyly and removed her own knickers, pulling them down over her long slender legs and revealing a very neat vagina, almost as beautiful as Fluff’s but without any of the folds that hung from Amna’s lover’s crotch. The hair was thick, but smooth, sparser than Dalitha’s own, forming an almost perfect triangle so much darker than her golden brown flesh.

  Dalitha gasped, but sat paralysed. She felt her skin tighten around her face and the nipples on her breasts were hardening. “She’s very pretty,” she repeated. “Very pretty!”

  “Have a feel,” offered Amna standing up by her aunt and wrapping an arm around her. “Don’t be afraid. Aunt Sally is very gentle.”

  Dalitha knew that Amna and her aunt made love together, but it had never occurred to her that she might also get to know her in that way. Nervously, she stood up and walked over to Salim. Her aunt leaned down to her smaller niece and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. Dalitha gasped. Unsure of what to do, she put her arms around her aunt, just below her shoulders, leaned her head up, and then kissed her aunt back in return.

  Gradually, bit by bit, the awkward fumblings became less awkward, the kisses became more passionate. As the two girls became more intimate, Dalitha couldn’t help wondering why this was happening. Was it just that her aunt found her attractive? Was it that her aunt loved her? Or was it, as she came to believe more firmly, from the odd verbal encouragement from her sister that this encounter was engineered by Amna. And had her aunt agreed because it seemed the lesser of two evils? And if so, what was the other evil? Her mind flashed back to her brief encounter with Fluff’s flesh, and it seemed clear to her, while all else began to lose focus as her tongue encircled Aunt Salim’s nipples while her aunt ran her long fingers up and down her slim back. It had either been Aunt Salim or Fluff. And in this way, her aunt was in some sense protecting her.

  “So beautiful! And so tasty!” said Amna encouragingly as Salim and Dalitha lay on the sofa, guiding her sister down to Salim’s vagina as Dalitha’s tongue probed the tight contours of her aunt’s belly button. Indeed, it did taste strange. And the smell was so overpowering. And then her aunt swivelled round, above her, and she felt the muscular moistness of a tongue probe her own crotch. And then around her tiny clitoris. A tremor of pleasure shook her body, followed by another. And then another. Her crotch shook violently. And then that tongue probed deeper into her, deeper than anything except her own fingers had ever been before.

  And soon Dalitha was in Salim’s bed. Amna left them, content that her role in this exchange was complete, and Dalitha was in a delirium of pleasure and ecstasy, orchestrated and excited by her aunt, who nonetheless ensured that only her tongue and none of her fingers violated her own vagina. Her nipples were damp with sweat and saliva, her mouth retained the taste of Salim’s mouth and the faint odour of herbs and spices, her taut young buttocks pressed against the silk sheets. She looked at Salim. Do I love you? she asked as she looked up at the vagina above her face, her tongue aching from the effort of licking that tender acid-smelling receptacle. Is it love I feel? She spasmed again, uncertain of the feelings and emotions that erupted inside her. If this is love, it’s not as I expected it? So animal. So physical. And she loved the taste of Salim’s skin. Salty and sweet. The curves of those thighs. The fol
ds of the vagina. That freckled brown face, and the dark pupils in the bright eyes. And the hair with such a strange smell of its own as it fell onto her face and entangled with her own hair.

  And in all this, Salim was strangely quiet. Her own thoughts were a confusion of lust, desire and guilt. At least, she thought, this kept her darling niece away from that disgusting Fluff. And yes, she did enjoy it. It was almost like the love she used to know from her darling Amna before she’d been corrupted by all her sex film friends. It was the innocent, non-penetrative love she’d enjoyed so much before. She felt some guilt and remorse from reflecting on how young her niece was, but it wasn’t her youth that attracted her to Dalitha. It was perhaps her innocence. Or was it the beauty of those slender thighs, those large reflective eyes. The smooth dark skin, hairy as it was beginning to be, still unshaven under the arms, and tasting sweeter than even Amna.

  It worried her slightly where all this would lead. What would happen next? Was this where Amna’s demands on her lovemaking with her sister end? But undeniably, it had resolved some of that strong feeling that had exploded inside her when Dalitha held her hand while they watched Amna and Fluff at play. That explosion of emotion and lust that both Amna and Fluff had noticed and which Amna had so mercilessly exploited. But was it wrong? Was this a sin?

  Hardly, she mused, her teeth and lips nibbling gently on Dalitha’s clitoris, feeling her niece’s ecstatic spasms. How could something so beautiful, so wonderful, be sinful? Surely Allah would know that this was no sin, and in any case, being between women and within the sacred confines of family, how could this ever be seen as anything other than the purest of love.

  Chapter XLV

  Emma was delighted that Tanya had become a frequent visitor to her suburban home. She had come to love Tanya’s body, although she wasn’t so sure how well she loved or even knew Tanya’s mind. But there was nothing about her that seemed anything other than the perfect lover: always devoted to her, passionate in bed, and the only person outside of work with whom she could discuss her job. She hadn’t realised just how much difference it made to have someone to talk to who was as passionate and informed about television management and programme production as Tanya was. She bubbled with so many good ideas, and Emma was pleased to do whatever she could to help further the television career of someone who she had come to view as her protégé. She spoke to producers and other executives about Tanya’s beauty and her television presentation skills, based, she was sure, not just on her affection for the girl but also on an objective appraisal of her abilities from the many times she’d watched her in the Harlot TV studios. She was aware that her reputation for quality production and her famous naturist and vegetarian credentials gave her judgment rather more weight than the opinion of many others.

  While Emma did what she could to further Tanya’s career, her lover seemed not only incredibly grateful (expressing her gratitude for each new appointment or pay rise with the most passionate lovemaking), but she never seemed satisfied. On the one hand she expressed the opinion that Emma was seeing too much in her modest talent, and that she really did not deserve her good fortune. On the other hand, it was invariably Tanya who would put the seeds in Emma’s mind of another area in the Harlot TV hierarchy of presenters where her skills could be even better used. Emma loved helping Tanya’s career. And she loved the rewards she gained from her assistance when the two of them retreated to Emma’s large bed and she could enjoy once again that slender frame, the perfect torso and the skills of a lover who nonetheless was carefully not to indulge in any of Emma’s rougher sexual practices.

  “I don’t want to appear in front of the camera covered in bruises,” she explained. “That would be most unprofessional. As I’m sure you agree.”

  Emma agreed sadly, but the quality of the other sex they enjoyed together was passionate and raw enough, tiring her out and leaving her waking up every morning with the sweet smell of sweat and vaginal discharge. Sex with Tanya was addictive, and Emma was addicted.

  Emma was concerned about how Maisie would view her new lover. She spoke to Maisie about it on one of those several nights in the week when Maisie was at home and Tanya was elsewhere. She reminded Maisie of her own sex life away from Emma with her own other boyfriends and girlfriends, not to mention the sex she so often enjoyed in front of the camera. She was secretly pleased but also worried by Maisie’s brief show of jealousy. It was satisfying that her young lover was still so desirous of her, and enjoyed the passionate lovemaking that followed their discussion as she reassured the girl that her love for her was in no way displaced by her love for the older woman, however beautiful she was.

  She expressed her concerns about Maisie to Tanya and was pleased when her older lover suggested that the three of them should make love together as a means of ensuring that Maisie would not become more jealous and see her as some kind of a rival for Emma’s love. “After all, it’s clear to me that although you are first in my affections, she is first in yours. And I wouldn’t like to be responsible, however unintentionally, in any lessening of her love for you.”

  And so it was that Tanya and Emma invited Maisie to make love as a threesome in Emma’s bed. Maisie readily agreed. She enjoyed her conversations with Tanya, and had heard from Rochester what a good lover she was. In fact, she knew that Rochester was still depressed about Tanya leaving him for Emma, which actually made her feel the more keen to get to know Tanya better. She found Emma’s other lover very beautiful, and of course she’d become quite accustomed to seeing her naked around the house. She knew that Tanya was not really a naturist, but she was aware that Emma preferred nudity in the home. Maisie loved the sight of Tanya’s trimmed vagina, the long slim legs and the way she would sit on the sofa, a broad toothy smile on her face as she listened to Maisie talking about the pop groups she listened to, the films she watched and the other people she worked with. In fact, Tanya seemed tremendously knowledgeable about teenage interests for such an older woman, but Maisie reckoned that was almost certainly a result of her relationship with Rochester. In fact, even though it was Tanya and not the boy who had brought the relationship to an end, she was curiously solicitous as to his welfare and was remarkably sympathetic about his apparent heartbreak.

  As all three girls were already naked, there was very little prelude to the girls’ first lovemaking together. Maisie was escorted between the two older, taller women, an arm from each around her shoulders and around each others’, and her arms around their waists. And then into the tastefully restrained decor of Emma’s bedroom, onto the large bed where Emma and she had spent so many nights together, her arms around Emma, and Emma’s tongue between her legs. Maisie lay down, slightly nervously, as she always was when she was about to make love with someone new and different, and enjoyed the attention of the two older women as they stroked and kissed her, their show of affection for her punctuated by displays of love towards each other. Emma’s mouth opened with a slight gasp and plunged her lips onto Tanya’s lips, while her hands traced Maisie’s small, not yet fully grown, breasts. And then the mouth transferred itself to her own crotch, while Tanya’s tongue entered Maisie’s mouth. It tasted so sweet, the teeth nibbled gently on her tongue and lips and her body shivered with the massaging of four hands as they trailed around her thighs, round her buttocks, around her back.

  Bit by bit, the lovemaking became more intense. Maisie began reciprocating the love shown her with more passion. Her tongue licked the smooth folds of Tanya’s vagina, while her eyes explored the gorgeous contours and the evenly tanned flesh of Emma’s older lover. Meanwhile, two tongues and two pairs of lips explored and probed her own vagina and anus. And then fingers entered and explored, while Maisie pushed in as many fingers as she dared into the forbiddingly perfect orifices of Tanya’s lower regions. And, inevitably, spasms and tremors of orgasmic pleasure rose and crashed and rose again, as the passion became ever more urgent, ever more daring and ever hotter and sweatier.

  From then on, those evenings wh
en both Tanya and Maisie were at home became nights when with Emma the three girls enjoyed nights of passion which both Emma and Maisie found they came to enjoy more than those nights when there were just the two of them. Indeed, for Emma, sex with Maisie had actually become more frequent now that Tanya was around. She almost felt guilty on those nights when Maisie was visiting her friends or staying with her mother, and on which occasions only she and Tanya made love together. It was those nights, however, when Tanya and she would talk about Tanya’s career and how, with Emma’s help she was getting more responsible and lucrative production roles and taking a more starring role in the television shows she co-hosted, or was even the sole presenter. Emma felt proud of her role as Tanya’s mentor, although she guessed that other presenters and producers on Harlot TV, no doubt equally as talented, resented Emma’s part in Tanya’s career tangent.

  However, Emma needn’t have felt guilty about Maisie’s absence from these nights of passion. Tanya had taken to watching Emma’s younger lover at work, as Maisie was pleased to see. She always preferred it when someone who loved her took a direct interest in her work. The sex on screen was always the more passionate, her sexual techniques the sharper, knowing that either Emma or Tanya were in the wings watching her.