Emma

by Bradley Stoke

  Finally, enough was enough. It might have been because she was especially fed up while washing traces of shit and piss out of her hair after a night with a thin man with a long thin prick that nevertheless never seemed to get a hard-on. It might have been as a result of the rather sour comments Tanya made while Maisie was listening to one of her records. It might have been because she’d had a particularly bad day at work, where, for some reason, there was just no passion to her lovemaking. Maisie was just not finding on-screen fellatio agreeable, and was not sorry when the attentive producer substituted her lovemaking with one of her guests by one of her more junior co-presenters.

  As soon as Tanya, Anthony and Karl were out of the house, and before the maid came round to tidy up, Maisie hurriedly packed her possessions into her suitcases and called a taxi. She hesitated over leaving a note for Tanya. In fact she composed her leaving note for several hours in her head, but then, with a wicked smile, she reasoned that no explanation at all was much more likely to upset Tanya than any note. Whatever she wrote would probably sound peevish and a bit weak. Saying nothing at all would betray no weakness at all. As Maisie got into the taxi and was driven off to Susan’s flat, having checked first that Susan would be there to meet her when she arrived, she looked back at where she’d lived all these past few months and was slightly ashamed to recognise that her feelings towards Tanya now resembled hatred rather than love.

  And soon she was with friends again. Both Susan and Rosemary were there to welcome her, to carry her bags into the flat, to show her up to Rosemary’s room which had been tidied up for, and to shower her with tea and cookies. Despite her feelings of guilt of leaving Tanya unannounced in this way, she felt a degree of elation at being free from her that was almost frightening.

  Susan and Rosemary took Maisie out for a night out in the city, which included a night club playing just the sounds that she was enjoying so much these days: pumping, jumping, slamming and kicking. Susan and she oscillated together under the bright lights, neither wearing very much, in a mass of sweaty shiny bodies under the strobing lights, able only to mouth to each other whatever they wanted to say. And in Maisie’s case, it was mostly: “I’m happy! I’m so happy!”

  Rosemary was less happy. She’d never really enjoyed noisy, brash places like this, and she didn’t enjoy the drugs and drink very much either. But she was pleased to see Susan’s young friend free from the tyranny of her life with Tanya, and quite enthusiastic about sharing the flat with another person.

  And not just the flat, as Rosemary discovered when they got back, Maisie and Susan wrapping their naked bodies around each other. At first Rosemary was a little put out as Maisie’s tongue sought out Susan’s, and the two clung to each other, flat breasts squeezed so close together, Maisie’s long curls obscuring the two girls’ faces, and Susan’s long neck curving swan-like to the base of her short, boyish hair. Even as Maisie’s hands probed for Susan’s shaven vagina, and a finger so easily slipped through the moistness of its entrance, Susan was always mindful of her lover, Rosemary.

  She eased Maisie off her, despite the girl’s protests, and smiled to Rosemary. “Come on, Rosie! Take off your clothes and join us!”

  Rosemary nodded, and Maisie watched with no little interest as she undid the buttons of her blouse and unstrapped her bra. Her enormous bosom fell out from their confines, many times larger than Maisie’s and Susan’s breasts put together. So large, and round, and weighty, and pink, if a little freckled towards the top. And the nipples. Larger than many women’s entire breast. Crenellated, detailed, and, now, of course, fully erect, the nipple clearly indented towards a crater towards the centre, around which were the aureole redness of the rest of its glory. So different from the small, permanently hard nipples of the girls who’d had their breasts surgically enhanced. And a warm, bouncy, fleshy mass. Not hard and rigid like a football, but soft and welcoming. As Rosemary shuffled across the bed on her knees, Maisie immediately leapt onto her breasts, anxious to have as close a feel as she could.

  They felt as homely as they looked. Underneath they weighed so much, but they rested easily on her palms, while she lifted the mass of it up, so that her tongue and teeth could better explore all that it had to offer. What bliss! What joy! Her mouth was almost filled by the nipple which had some of the hardness of a small erect penis, but tasted much better, much more delectable, with none of that strange smell that pricks sometimes gave off. And the texture of such a large nipple on her tongue was another sensation altogether. The details of the bumps and crenellations of the nipple was a texture far superior than that even Emma’s apple-like breasts or Susan’s perky nipples had to offer.

  As she engulfed herself in Rosemary’s bosom, she could feel Susan’s fingers probing her crotch. One, then two fingers sliding easily in her shaven vagina, and, for extra pleasure, a thumb easing into her anus. At the same time, Susan was kissing Rosemary full on the mouth, while her lover gasped and groaned from the delight of familiar pleasure. And soon, the three were rolling around on the bed, tongues in each others’ crotches, fingers everywhere, their flesh as shiny and sweaty from passion as they had been in the night club from the exertions of dancing.

  Maisie looked up at the red hairs of Rosemary’s vagina which both she and Susan were exploring and exciting with their tongues, and smiled as she saw that familiar tremor of excitement erupt from inside Rosemary, her vaginal juices squirting out without restraint, to be eagerly lapped by her two small-breasted lovers. Then she smiled at Susan, whose face smiled at her, her ivory skin in the broad grin that so much suited her. She leaned over and kissed Susan passionately on the lips. She was so happy now. And all this time, she’d stayed with Tanya! How could she have ever been so stupid? She grabbed Susan tightly, almost roughly, and her passion and gratitude erupted in her vaginal orgasms which seemed to melt the very essence of her being.

  Chapter L

  Dalitha and Salim were wrapped together in Salim’s bed: Dalitha’s dark, small body entangled in Salim’s chocolate, long lithe frame, legs intertwined, breast on breast, sweat dripping onto sweat. Dalitha was again exhausted but still insatiable, a young appetite for sex that Salim found very difficult to keep up with. She could still taste the slightly sour juice of her niece’s vaginal juices on her tongue, and enjoyed Dalitha’s fingers probing around her still sore crotch, still moist but covered with the crumbs of the drying embers of earlier orgasms. She held Dalitha’s head by her arms and pressed the girl’s face close to hers, the warm breath from the younger girl’s mouth blowing pleasantly on her cheeks.

  “Do you love me?” Salim asked pleadingly, hoping for an unambiguous declaration of passion, but as always disappointed by the girl’s uncertain reply.

  “I love making love with you,” Dalitha said with the seriousness of a young girl, “but I don’t know if it’s love I feel.”

  As always, Salim was disheartened. She loved Dalitha, just as she loved Amna, but somehow it seemed that whatever it was that made someone love someone else, she didn’t have enough of it. And it wasn’t as if the sex wasn’t good. Well, it was certainly good for her. She leaned back to stare at the light shade on the ceiling while Dalitha rolled on top of her, two fingers still stroking the dark brown hairs of Salim’s crotch.

  “I do love you, Auntie,” Dalitha said, not wishing to upset her lover, “but it’s not like what I think love should be. It’s not like in the films. It’s a different kind of love. A more sister-like love.”

  And talking about her sister, the door eased open and Amna entered the bedroom. It was early morning and the girl had just returned from an exhausting evening out with Fluff in a night club, buoyed up by narcotics, music and company. She was still buzzing with energy, desperate for more conversation, as she burst into the bedroom, naked as always, her breasts still unnaturally perky and a shadow spreading over a crotch that hadn’t needed shaving for several days.

  “Why hello, Amna,” greeted Salim as she saw her older niece hovering by the doo
r. “How was your night?”

  “Fine! Fine!” said Amna dismissively. “I didn’t know Dalitha was here.” In fact, Amna was quite disappointed. After Fluff had left with two porn-stars of her acquaintance, neither of which were to Amna’s taste, and this was based on experience on the studio mattress, she was actually looking forward to sinking into the arms of her aunt. And here was her pesky sister.

  “She’s been here all night,” said Salim. “We’ve been watching videos haven’t we?” They weren’t videos much to Salim’s own taste: altogether too violent and relied too heavily on special effects, but Dalitha enjoyed them and that was the main thing.

  “And not just watching videos,” commented Amna bitterly.

  “Come now, Amna. You’ve got to think about your sister. Look! Why not just lie down next to us. That should be alright.”

  Amna sighed. She guessed that would have to do. She sat down on the other side of Salim from Dalitha, swung her legs around, and lay next to her. Salim was in sudden and unexpected heaven. Here on either side of her were the two girls she loved most in the world, an arm around Amna who pressed her nicotine-smelling face onto Salim’s shoulder and an arm around Dalitha, whose hand was gently stroking Salim’s thigh and smiling into her bosom. Salim grinned broadly, moving her head languidly from side-to-side as she looked at one niece and then the other. The feel of warm, dark flesh filled her heart with pleasure and a strange elation.

  She felt herself falling to blissful sleep, Dalitha’s small hand still stroking her thigh, when she felt somewhat stronger fingers beginning to probe inside her. Ah! That must be Amna, smiled Salim half-opening her eyes to see her niece bent over her. Salim hooked Amna closer to her, so that her fingers dangling over Amna’s breast could tweak on her beloved’s nipples, which she was pleased to find were hard, stiff and excited. This itself aroused passion in Salim, who bent her mouth over to Amna’s mouth, greedily taking her tongue and lips into hers. All the while, she could feel Dalitha’s weaker fingers also exploring her, pinching her clitoris between forefinger and thumb, and her mouth and tongue trail over her breast.

  And then the three of them gradually became one, with Salim the willing centre of it all, her mouth and lips greedily giving, and her flesh happily receiving, two sets of hands exploring her crotch and breasts, as she shared as best she could her attentions between two girls. Her tongue explored the nerves behind Dalitha’s knee, her fingers the space between the arse and vagina, while around her, her breasts were licked and sucked, her vagina probed and moistened, often not sure whose tongue or whose fingers were doing what to her, and sometimes, her face deep in dark skin, able only indistinctly to know whose flesh she too was exploring so intimately. The lovemaking was languorous, relaxed and without urgency, lacking direction or purpose, just a pleasant end to the evening.

  At least, that’s how Salim thought it would be. But then she became aware of the liquid sloshing sound of two mouths battling together, while two hands were still exploring her vagina, and her own tongue was threading through the dense black hairs of Dalitha’s vagina. At first, Salim gave no thought to it. After all, she and Fatima had frequently made love with Amna, and she’d often heard that sound, and its occasional strangled moans, as tongue grappled with tongue. But then the enormity of it suddenly struck her, and she opened her eyes wide open and gazed at the two dark figures arched above her. It was true. Amna and Dalitha were kissing each other, their arms around each other and wrapped in each other’s long black hair.

  Salim was about to protest, but she found herself quite excited by it, despite herself, and applied her tongue to Dalitha’s vagina with renewed vigour, grabbing her own crotch with her fingers, urgently masturbating herself as she crouched over, her arse up in the air. And indeed the excitement continued to rise, as she and Amna both shared lapping away at Dalitha’s crotch while the young girl groaned and swayed with rhythms of ecstasy. Amna smiled eagerly at Salim, pausing occasionally to press her tongue and lips into her aunt’s mouth. And the lovemaking continued, the three bodies become increasingly indistinguishable from each other. Sometimes two mouths at Dalitha’s crotch and then, all change, as Dalitha and Salim busied themselves on Amna’s stubbly vulva. Despite herself, Salim climaxed without restraint, and then, before her trembling body could recover, another spasm of passion swept through her. And then another. And at various times she could sense similar eruptions of orgasm rising within one or other of her two nieces.

  And then finally, the three were sated, sweat and saliva and vaginal juice shared and sticking to each other as they collapsed on top of each other, too hot and too exhausted to do anything than gasp and pant as they recovered from their exertions. And it was at this stage, and perhaps belatedly that guilt set in, as Salim regarded her two nieces wrapped together and exchanging the odd kiss, their legs tangled with her own, and their breasts against each other, Amna’s rather larger ones against Dalitha’s budding but stiff nipples. Surely, this was more than a step too far, mused Salim, sorrowful that she’d not shown more moral fibre in separating the two sisters when the passion of their lovemaking had exceeded their prudence, and feeling very remorseful that it was she who had been the catalyst for this incest.

  And then, guilt gave way to jealousy as she observed the depth of the two sisters’ feelings for each other. So unnatural but not unexpected, as the two girls hands and lips continued their exploration of each other, no longer concerned about Salim’s presence.

  “Oh! Amna! I love you!” gasped Dalitha, uttering without prompting the words which Salim had so eagerly wanted to hear the girl say about herself. Salim blushed from her forehead to her nipples, but there was nothing now that she could do. The deed was done, and she was at least as reprehensible as anyone else.

  “Dalitha! You can’t say that!” said Amna, but without conviction. “It’s Auntie Salim you love. And I love Fluff. And anyway you’re my sister. What would our parents say?”

  Dalitha wept slightly, and sat up on the bed. She turned to Salim who was lying down, with her head on the pillow, and kissed her aunt tenderly on the lips. “Yes, I do love Auntie Salim. But with you, I don’t know, it’s different.” She gasped as a spasm of lust ran through her torso and wobbled her young buttocks. She pushed her lips onto Amna’s artificially enhanced bosom, and sucked at one nipple and then the other with a hunger that frightened Amna as much as it startled Salim. “I do love you, Amna! And I don’t care what anyone thinks. I think I must have always loved you. And admit it, Amna. You must always have loved me, or this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I almost wish it hadn’t,” sighed Amna, echoing Salim’s thoughts, but nonetheless making no moves to dissuade her sister from pursuing her attentions. “From now on, it’s going to be very different between us.”

  As indeed it was. Salim again began to feel marginalised in the merry-go-round of lovemaking that went on under her roof. Amna made love with Dalitha. Fluff made love with Amna. Sometimes, Fatima made love with Amna too, but never with Fluff. And Salim sometimes made love with Amna and Dalitha, but more often only with Dalitha, and that only when Amna wasn’t around. And sometimes she made love with Fatima. And sometimes with both Amna and Salim.

  As she considered all these permutations, Salim sometimes felt giddy and not a little disturbed. How had it happened that she, a devout Muslim who would never dream of displaying her hair in public, and who regularly attended the mosque every Friday. And who had even been on a haj to the Holy City when she was younger. How could she have become not so much the ringmaster of all these sexual variations, with their even larger spirals of sexual liaison beyond her flat, but in a sense its hostess and facilitator?

  Her own position seemed to become relatively weak. She no longer had any claim to moral authority, and would find herself watching on as Amna and Dalitha cuddled and caressed each other in front of the television, Amna exploring in minutest detail the growing physical delights of her sister’s breasts and vagina, even allowing a finger to
probe into the dark interior of her very tight anus. And Dalitha forever fascinated by the artificially enhanced assets of her older sister, never tiring of exploring with her fingers and tongue what her eyes had so lovingly cherished.

  It became inevitable that the sexual permutations should increase, now that the last taboo had been breached. Fluff was the first to take advantage of Dalitha’s newfound availability, which neither Amna nor Salim could now prohibit. How could they say that sex with Fluff was in any way worse than sex with her sister and aunt? And Fluff was, in any case, surprisingly tender and sympathetic with the young girl, revealing depths of tenderness and considerateness that very nearly encouraged Salim to revise her opinion of the woman who she still viewed as the corrupter of her niece’s morals and, worse, her chief rival in love.

  Dalitha was particularly fascinated by Fluff’s tattoos of pricks on her face, arms and chest, her tongue lingering long on the over-exaggerated, garishly coloured contours of the spurting penises, especially their tips where wild gushes of semen were painted in orgasm. Fluff tenderly kissed and licked Dalitha’s bosom and clitoris, her white freckled tattooed body entangled in Dalitha’s slim dark body. And then with a gesture she invited Amna over to join in as Dalitha gradually became more relaxed and more excited. Salim watched as the two sisters and Fluff became a triangle of sexual passion, from which, due to her dislike for Fluff, she felt totally excluded.

  Fatima was more circumspect, and it was only after several weeks that Salim discovered that she too had found pleasure in her niece’s body. Fatima continued to represent Amna’s assets in the film industry, and Salim was frightened that she might start viewing Dalitha in the same way, a proposal Salim would never condone. However, she came home one day from work to find Fatima’s clothes laid out neatly in the wardrobe, and to hear the sounds of lovemaking emanating from Amna’s bedroom, Salim dashed upstairs to find Fatima and Dalitha rolling around on the bed with no sign of Amna. She later found out that it was through Amna that Dalitha had met her niece’s agent, and that the lovemaking that Fatima was now enjoying with Dalitha was not at all for the first time.