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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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Subject: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Thirty {Bradley Stoke} {Ff}
Date: Sat, 21 Sep 2002 11:10:03 -0400
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Title: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Thirty {Bradley Stoke} {Ff}
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 30 of 50
Keywords: Ff MF
Short Summary: Fatima is engaged as Amna's agent. 


Emma
====

Summary of whole novel
======================

Emma is no stranger to the world of pornography, working as she does 
for one of the premier sex television stations. Nor is she a stranger 
to the naked body, being a dedicated naturist. However, in almost 
every other way she is naive and innocent. This is the story of how 
she finds herself, and also about the lives of people around her. 
In this novel, soap opera meets sex fiction. 


For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www


Previously
==========

Amna starts a career in sex films and lives with Aunt Salim.



Chapter Thirty
==============

Amna always felt that her best course of action was to retire to her 
own room when Aunt Salim invited her friends around. 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 like her 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 had never 
really managed to address her in any way that made her feel at all 
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 own 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 more 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?

She pushed herself off her aunt to see what Fatima was doing and felt 
both disappointed and relieved to see that Fatima was certainly not 
where she had been sitting before. Perhaps she'd been so disgusted by 
her aunt's assault on her body that she'd left in a hump. Feeling more 
relaxed in the apparent absence of her aunt's friend she allowed 
herself to become more attentive to Aunt Salim's needs: swivelling 
her body round so that she could embed her tongue in her aunt's 
clitoris.

It was at that stage that she felt the presence of not one but two 
tongues playing around in her crotch in amongst the furry mass of 
pubic hair. She turned her head round and saw what she'd dreaded but 
had somehow knew to be likely all along. There was the naked slim 
and light brown body of Fatima trailed over her buttocks, her fingers 
and tongue playing agitatedly in her crotch. Amna didn't know what to 
think. What did this willing sharing of her body between two friends 
mean in relation to her aunt's feelings towards her? If her aunt was 
happy for Fatima to make love to her did that mean she was viewed 
just as a sex toy and secondarily as a lover?

Fatima was however a somewhat better and demonstrably more 
experienced lover than her aunt, and Amna enjoyed the sex far more 
than any she'd had before either on the film set or previously with her 
aunt. She didn't want it to stop, as Fatima's fingers probed and 
explored while simultaneously stimulating her clitoris, anus or nipples. 
And when they eventually did stop, collapsed in a sweaty heap on the 
living room floor, faces flushed with passion and guilt, Amna knew 
that although she'd still not obtained the orgasmic release her new 
profession had taught her to desire, she would still be quite happy to 
return to the embracing that she'd so recently enjoyed. And, as it 
happened, it took relatively little effort for Amna to reinitiate events 
starting this time with Fatima's perky small breasts and the tiny well-
formed toes at the end of her slim angular legs.

The following day, Amna wasn't that surprised when she returned 
home to her aunt's flat after an afternoon looking round the shops to 
find her aunt and Fatima embracing on the sofa in the living room: 
tongues deep inside each other's mouths and hands probing around the 
breasts and vagina. Amna didn't even really feel that jealous. Her 
career had by now reduced the effects of that, although it did cross her 
mind to wonder what her role in her aunt's sex life might now be. 
Perhaps, she thought in an unfocused way, she might be sleeping in 
her own bed tonight. It did annoy her though that she wouldn't be able 
to play the compact discs she'd just bought on her aunt's somewhat 
better audio system and would have to use her own somewhat cheaper 
and less impressive one.

She wandered along to her room, and threw herself and her purchases 
onto the bed. She kicked off her shoes, pulled off her tee-shirt and 
lowered her jeans and knickers to her ankles and with a few energetic 
kicks tossed them across the room onto the loose pile of clothes where 
she kept most of what she chose to wear these days. She placed a 
compact disc in the machine, and gyrated to the music while removing 
the last few items of clothing she still had on. She always felt happy 
after shopping. All those hours in the boutiques and record stores, 
picking, choosing, comparing. And after all that the pleasure of 
returning home and admiring the rewards of her labours. She took a 
cigarette out of the packet, tapped it unnecessarily on the side and lit 
it. She then spread the length of her body, front down on the soft down 
of her duvet, now much the worse for the cigarette ash and the odd 
burn mark, with a copy of Dream Girl, the teen magazine she'd 
bought from a newsagent. It was the usual sort of magazine she read: 
full of pictures of semi-clad boys rather more attractive than the ones 
who fucked her at work, interspersed with articles on contraception, 
menstruation, astrology and examination stress. She particularly 
enjoyed doing the questionnaires. Am I a great fuck? she posed 
herself, while awarding herself points in a questionnaire which 
decided for her that perhaps she wasn't a great fuck, although she 
wasn't really that bad.

She then heard a knock knock on the door. Annoyed, Amna jumped 
up. What could her aunt want now? Why couldn't she leave her be! 
She stubbed out the cigarette she'd been smoking; resolving to return 
later to the half-inch or so that was left. She opened the door and was 
surprised to see Fatima, looking rather flushed in a full set of lingerie 
but missing her knickers. She seemed both quite excited and quite 
unhappy.

"Can I come in, Amna sweetest?" Fatima asked.

Amna nodded petulantly. What a drag! She tucked her magazine 
away, and rather regretted now stubbing out her cigarette. Amna didn't 
care what Fatima thought of her smoking. Her aunt's friend sat down 
on the chair opposite Amna, pressed her chin against the tip of fingers 
set in a praying position and smiled at Amna.

"Your aunt and I have been talking about your career..." Fatima began.

"It's a job. It earns me money. What's wrong with it?"

"Your aunt doesn't like it very much. But that's beside the point. My 
view is that you're not doing as well at it as you could be. Salim's told 
me about how much you get paid, and, if you don't mind me saying 
so, it sounds like chickenshit. All that fucking, and you're barely 
earning what a high class prostitute gets in a single night. You could 
be performing in straight repertory theatre and be earning just as 
much. What you earn now might seem good, but you're not really 
paying the rent or mortgage you'd have to do if you weren't living 
with your aunt. Let alone the bills for all the utilities. My opinion is 
that you really are not maximising your potential earnings."

Fatima's view was uncomfortably close to one that had occurred to 
Amna when she was working on the set of Filipino Fuck Fun and 
felt that she was getting fucked just as much as her colleagues and 
getting nothing like the rewards they were. She'd thought that maybe 
it was because she was the only one who wasn't Filipino, but she 
knew that couldn't be the only reason.

"I'm a saleswoman by trade," Fatima continued. "I sell perfumery, 
lingerie, make-up, that sort of thing. But I've also sold computers, 
dictionaries, garden furniture and photocopiers. I know about selling. I 
know what it takes to get a product to shift and to maximise returns. 
What you need, Amna dearest, is an agent. And although your aunt 
isn't too keen to do so, I'm willing to act as one for you."

Amna sneered scornfully. "You're not going to do that for nothing, are 
you? There must be something in it for you."

"Well, yes. Ten percent initially. Rising to twenty, when we get things 
moving. But there's good money in fuck films. And I'm quite 
interested in getting a stake in it. Salim might hope that you'll grow 
out of it, but I don't see why you can't just make as much as you can 
from what you're going to do anyway. What do you think? I'm sure I 
can enhance your earnings quite substantially."

Amna sighed. "I'm not sure! I don't know what to think!" She looked 
across at a poster of her beloved Susan for guidance, knowing full well 
that none would be forthcoming. Fatima followed her gaze, and smiled 
in apparent approval. 

"She's a very pretty girl, isn't she? Are you a fan?"

Amna nodded sadly. "She's why I'm in fuck films."

"Oh you poor darling!" Exclaimed Fatima, appearing to understand 
more than she possibly could from this brief exchange. She stood up 
and walked over to the bed. She lay down on it next to Amna, her long 
thin legs stretched out beyond Amna's and her satin supported breasts 
pressed against Amna's back. "You poor sweetheart!" She continued 
running her manicured nails along Amna's spine. She then, with a 
touch of boldness, put  her hand between Amna's legs and brushed her 
pubic hairs. Amna made no response. She looked towards the poster 
of Susan, a penis deep inside her cunt and another probing at an angle 
into her mouth.

Fatima became increasingly bolder, and soon Amna could no longer 
feign indifference. She turned round, remembering the pleasure of 
their one previous time of lovemaking and pushed her tongue deep 
inside Fatima's mouth, visualising Susan as she did so. Fatima gasped 
deeply and vocally, pulled off her bra as she did so, briefly dangling it 
over Amna's naked buttocks and then dropping it onto the now 
crumpled copy of Dream Girl. Fatima was definitely a much more 
spirited lover than her aunt, Amna decided as the two rolled over and 
over, more of Fatima's underwear being shed on the way, crumpling 
the empty plastic shopping bags and discarded magazines as they did 
so.

They had been making love for several minutes before Amna noticed 
her aunt standing by the slightly ajar door watching the two of them, 
mouth to genitals, hair between teeth. She looked as if she had been 
crying, and getting no pleasure at all in watching the two of them at 
play. Amna detached herself from Fatima whom she suspected had 
noticed Aunt Salim long before her and had simply ignored her. 
Fatima smiled at her friend.

"Fatty! How could you?" Gasped Aunt Salim in a kind of sob.

"Sally! Don't worry. I'll be with you soon. Just wait. I told you that 
when I make my mind up to do something, I do it."

Aunt Salim nodded, and carefully shut the door behind her, leaving 
Fatima and Amna engaged in lovemaking for several hours more. 
Amna found herself feeling much more strongly towards her slender 
lover, with the sharp angles of her knees and elbows, the round breasts 
rising so well formed from a chest in which her ribs could be seen 
(unlike Amna's which could never be distinguished except by touch). 
The feel of her perfectly formed nipples and the slight boniness of her 
buttocks. However, Amna wasn't too surprised, when after relaxing 
for several minutes in each other's postcoital embrace, Fatima 
collected up her underwear and left her alone for the rest of the 
evening. 

This was in fact the first night Amna had had at home by herself in her 
own bed for a very long time. She knew that Fatima and her aunt were 
sharing the same bed, and she knew that there was no part for her to 
play in their lovemaking tonight. As she nestled down with the last 
few minutes of Paris Grey booming from her speakers, she gazed at 
her favourite poster of Susan and reflected on her lovemaking with 
Fatima. It somehow made it easier for her to confront the following 
day when she was sure she'd have to endure yet more anal penetration 
from the fat Filipino who was the main star in her present production. 
Perhaps with Fatima's help she would gain more for her not 
inconsiderable physical pains.



For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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