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Subject: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Forty Two {Bradley Stoke} {FF}
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Title: {ASSM} Emma Chapter Forty Two {Bradley Stoke} {FF}
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 42 of 50
Keywords: FF 
Short Summary: Tanya gets to know Emma.


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
==========

Emma is in love with Maisie and the two live together in Emma's home.


Chapter Forty Two
=================


Tanya was beautiful. This was something about herself which she 
knew to be true and which she did her utmost to use to her best 
advantage. But beauty wasn't everything. She was also ambitious and 
she was frustrated by her position as a junior presenter on the evening 
entertainment show on Harlot TV. Sure, she was lucky to have made it 
in television, even if it was sex television where standards were very 
low compared to mainstream television. She was convinced that her 
assets weren't being used to their full. She knew that being filmed 
having sex on television wasn't really stretching her talents at all. It 
was not enough that her producer kept promising her better things to 
her from the comfort of his sheets. Nor that she could see the effect 
her beauty had on her fellow presenters and guests. Not that the 
quantity of sperm that they spurted onto and into her wasn't proof  
enough. Just the way they looked at her body was enough.

She knew better than most how to present herself. She took great care 
of her appearance. Her hair was cut and dyed by the best hairdresser 
she could afford: a pleasing blonde bob that emphasised the curve of 
her neck, the classical contours of her chin and cheeks and showed off 
her high forehead. She spent time and money on make-up which 
subtly enhanced her eyes and lips without overdoing it, like some of 
the sex television presenters who had none of the aesthetic sense of 
balance which ensured she didn't look like a slut. And she was 
worldly enough to know that it was her body which represented her 
fortune in this corner (as it would be any other corner) of the sex 
industry. This she enhanced by a choice of clothes where the tops, 
however long the sleeves, stopped just below the nipples of her apple-
shaped breasts, and a choice of skirts and shorts which showed off her 
long thin legs and hung low enough on her hips to show just how far 
down she shaved her crotch. A little bit further down or a little further 
up and she'd be revealing too much for the subtle effect of temptation 
she had nurtured to be effective. But what she always displayed was a 
midriff, with a perfect waist, a teardrop shaped navel and the contours 
of her hips. What she was saying, she knew, was that unless it meant 
business, what she had could be seen but not touched.

Her ambition left her somewhat lonely. None of her colleagues were 
anything other than competition for her, and no one in more senior 
positions to her in the television hierarchy was anything other than an 
object of envy or a stepping stone in her career. Most people sensed 
this, and left Tanya alone, which generally suited her fine. However, 
not everyone seemed aware of her aura, and none less than Emma, 
who worked as a producer on the station's naturist programmes and as 
a commissioning editor for some of the station's more prestigious 
programmes: whose high pretensions were matched by equally low 
ratings. But Emma was as blissfully unaware of this as she seemed to 
be of Tanya's sexual aura. Tanya was aware of this, as Emma looked 
at her with exactly the same kind of unobservant, uncritical eye as she 
did with everyone else, even the fucking make-up girls or the 
cameramen. 

This fascinated Tanya. It particularly fascinated her as Emma's sexual 
proclivity towards women was well-known on the station. And she 
could see that the main focus of Emma's attention was the slutty 
Maisie who'd once been on a television sex soap opera, but was now 
presenting a teenage sex programme with Rochester, a small boy with 
a big name. She also knew that Emma's relationship with Maisie 
couldn't possibly be exclusive. It was common knowledge that Maisie 
was spreading herself thinly amongst the male and female presenters 
and actors of Harlot TV, both on-screen and off. It was certain that 
Emma also knew of this, and Tanya found it unimaginable that an 
attractive woman like Emma wouldn't also be doing much the same 
thing, but in a perhaps more discreet way. 

It was difficult to think of anything that Maisie and Emma had in 
common with each other, except the habitual nudity which in Emma's 
case was like some kind of a fucking religion and in Maisie's was just 
a kind of carelessness. They were certainly nowhere near the same 
age. And Emma possessed a quite different ethos with regards to how 
she comported and expressed herself. It was unlikely that she would 
share any of the teenage enthusiasms which Maisie displayed on 
Wasted! every Monday and Wednesday night. All that fast, frantic, 
noisy dance music. All those wacky fashions. And all those infantile 
sex games that featured so highly on the programme. 

Tanya stood behind the cameras on the set of Wasted! not really 
thinking of anything at all, except perhaps of her contempt for all the 
foolishness that was going on. Maisie was fellating the singer of some 
fairly puerile pop song, dressed only in a pair of absurdly high-heeled 
yellow trainers, with her mass of curly hair teased in peculiar 
directions by a bizarre selection of hair clips. However, even Tanya 
had to admit that Maisie had a certain amount of technical skill: 
bringing the singer to ejaculation at just the right point in the dance 
tune that was running over it, letting the semen arch onto her chest 
without messing up the discreet make-up on her small nipples.

She then watched as Maisie effortlessly returned to the microphone 
with Rochester, betraying her sexual excitement in the breathiness of 
her voice, where she announced the appearance of the next guest, who 
was a teenage actor on IVY Grove, a sex soap opera set in a high 
school which was particularly popular with teenage viewers at the 
moment. She turned around to leave when she saw Emma standing 
nearby watching Maisie with a peculiarly sad expression. Tanya 
frowned, a little puzzled by Emma's expression, but sensing that it 
must illustrate some disconcertment for Maisie's chosen career. But 
how was she to express the right degree of sympathy without it 
seeming contrived?

"That Maisie is very talented," she offered as a comment to Emma, 
who started abruptly. She hadn't expected anyone to notice her there. 
And who was this woman? She vaguely recognised Tanya as one of 
the many minor television presenters at Harlot TV, whom she rarely 
bothered to acknowledge. She smiled at Tanya, and returned her 
attention to Maisie.

Tanya was not going to be dismissed that easily. "I'm sure I've seen 
Maisie in something else. A long time ago. I can't remember what." 
Emma turned her head back to Tanya, clearly unsure how not to be 
rude to this woman. "What was it? King's Cross? Time Square?"

"Nothing as good as that," Emma replied, clearly provoked by Tanya's 
recollection of two low-ratings, high art sex dramas that she'd 
commissioned. "It was St. Denis Road. That was long before the 
scandal with the producer and that horse brought the series to an end."

"Well, I wasn't really much of a viewer," lied Tanya, who had a 
weakness for soap operas. "I'm sure she was very good in that."

"Not really," said Emma, returning her gaze to a television set on the 
wall which screened the action on the set. Tanya judged that that was 
all she was going to get out of this conversation, so she discreetly left 
Emma to her own concerns.

However, Tanya was nothing if not persistent. She made a point of 
greeting Emma whenever they passed on the corridor, which at first 
surprised Emma but to which she eventually became accustomed. She 
even signalled with her eyes some appreciation for Tanya's beauty, 
which had taken fucking long enough. She even seduced Rochester, 
despite her relatively low opinion of teenage sex presenters, so that 
she could find something about Maisie and her older lover, and also as 
an excuse to hang around the set of Wasted! This gave her more 
opportunities to talk to Emma, even though when the programme was 
over she would then have to spend time with this tedious boy and his 
views on whatever dance fashion was sweeping the clubs or whatever 
action movie was dominating the screens. She liked the fucking. Like 
most sex presenters, including Tanya, this was an area in which he 
undoubtedly excelled. It was the conversation which tried her 
patience. But she knew she now had an area of her life which she 
shared in kind with Emma.

Gradually, Emma paid more attention to her. And when she confided 
with Emma that she didn't really understand her young lover, which 
was true, she was a little surprised by how much Emma felt that she 
agreed. "I don't know why I love Maisie at all. She splits me apart."

Tanya took Emma's warm hand in hers and sighed sympathetically. 
"Just as Rochester splits me apart," she said sadly. Although, of 
course, even during anal intercourse, this wasn't nearly something 
Rochester's penis was really capable of doing. It was fine: quite long, 
just a little thin. But at least he didn't ejaculate too soon like so many 
other younger lovers.

Tanya discovered that there was a naturist coffee bar not far from the 
studio where Emma occasionally went by herself at lunch times, and 
although she always thought of all that innocent nude cavorting that 
naturists were so keen on rather naff, if not thoroughly contemptible, 
she knew that this was the best place to get to talk to Emma away from 
the Harlot TV studios. So, one day, when she'd established that this 
was where Emma had gone, she went down the iron stairway to the 
small coffee bar just underneath a delicatessen. It had the insufferably 
smug name of Nature Calling and the staircase was decorated by arty 
poses of men and women in those outdoor locations that naturists 
seemed to like. She knew that her expensive clothes looked out of 
place amongst all the jeans and tee-shirts hanging on the hangars in 
the cloakroom where she handed them after disrobing. And she knew 
that even without clothes, her immaculate make-up, her finely 
manicured nails and even the way she walked, so much more natural 
in a pair of high-heeled shoes, was also pretty much out of place as she 
strode across the ethnic rugs which covered the coffee shop's wooden 
floor. She felt stroked by the gaze coming from the eyes of the naked 
men and women sitting on their tall stools which followed her 
imperious tread. Even though she always considered nudity a step 
beyond the degree of provocation she felt necessary to project, at least 
she didn't look so fucking ridiculous as so many of the others with 
their hairy bums, their furry armpits and unhealthily pale skin. She 
looked after herself - even in the places where very few were 
permitted to view. 

Tanya saw Emma sitting in a corner, a cup of cappuccino in one hand 
with her head leaning into a newspaper. She was disappointed that 
Emma hadn't witnessed her triumphant entry and all the heads turning. 
Tanya strode to the counter and ordered herself a caf, macchiato, all 
the while looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the short 
stocky, but still naked, girl who was serving her. Some people 
shouldn't be allowed to take their clothes off, Tanya mused focusing 
on a birthmark on the girl's shoulder as she was served a cup. She then 
turned round to see Emma carefully turning a page of her newspaper. 
Good! Now to attract her attention. "Cooee! Emma!" she cried out 
walking towards her. "What a surprise to see you here!"

Emma glanced up startled. At first she didn't recognise Tanya. Her 
own prejudices about textiles sometimes made it difficult to recognise 
anyone as distinct from their clothes. And the clothes Tanya wore 
were certainly distinctive, so much so that Emma thought of Tanya as 
the girl with the midriff. She always liked that midriff, and recognised 
that hiding the crotch and breasts emphasised the contours of the long 
serpentine length of her torso very well. But here she was nude. 
Although somehow not seeming nude. Even naked, it was clear that 
she paid extraordinary attention to her body. Even her crotch was 
razored short and in the shape of a tiny heart. It hadn't been dyed the 
same blonde as the head on her hair though.

"What are you doing here?" Emma wondered, putting down the 
newspaper, and leaning forward over the table as Tanya eased herself 
onto the stool opposite. "I'd never taken you for a naturist."

Tanya smiled, as her mind raced over the question. "No, I'm not. But 
I've often passed this place and wondered what it was like." She 
stirred sugar from the sachet into her cup. "And anyway I've always 
been sympathetic to the naturist movement, " she lied.

"Really?" wondered Emma with a grin. This really did not seem very 
likely to her. "Sympathetic in what way?"

"Well, it's always seemed so . er . natural," Tanya replied. "You 
know, not wearing clothes and everything. I mean, what could be more 
natural than . erm . than nudity. Baring everything. Erm. Feeling 
nature on the skin." God! This was awful. Change the subject. "So, 
Emma, do you live near here?"

Emma started. She'd actually looked forward to a conversation about 
naturism, and wasn't sure she was so keen about such a sudden change 
of tack. "Not really. Why do you?"

"No, I live in the town centre. Right near the theatre district." Ah 
good! A subject she could pursue a bit more fruitfully. "It's very 
convenient for seeing plays, shows, films, almost anything. Are you 
interested in .. er . anything like that?"

And so it was in this way that Tanya persuaded Emma to come with 
her to see some nude dance production that was on near her. And dull 
it was too! No story that she could discern, although the programme 
gave some kind of a synopsis. It was just a lot of cavorting performed 
by a bunch of naked men and women, clearly chosen for their dancing 
ability rather than for their looks. The girls were so tiny, with similarly 
small breasts. And the men all seemed gay to her. She could more 
easily imagine them fucking each other than the women they were 
dancing with. And it was only in her imagination she could see any 
fucking. Despite all the bare flesh on stage, and all the manhandling, 
there was no sex at all, and the men's penises remained 
disappointingly shrivelled. Although quite a few men and women in 
the audience were nude like Emma, thankfully she wasn't in the 
minority in the designer outfit she wore. At least Emma seemed to like 
the show, and she even began to weep at one stage where one of the 
women dancers was performing some kind of dance to show her 
distress at her male lover leaving her. This was demonstrated by a lot 
of slumping onto the ground, throwing herself against other dancers 
and exaggerated arm movement. However, she took advantage of 
Emma's tears to take her hand in her own and squeeze it comfortingly. 
Emma smiled at her through her tears, seemingly grateful for the 
sympathy that Tanya was expressing.

At long last, the ordeal was over, but not without the tedium of 
applauding the cast as they bowed and pirouetted on the stage as the 
curtain was drawn and redrawn. Couldn't they just shut up and go 
home? Then at last out of the door and into the atrium.

"Oh! It was so sad!" weeped Emma, accepting Tanya's arm around her 
shoulder.

Tanya resisted the opportunity to ask exactly how all that nonsense 
was meant to be sad, and instead took advantage of Emma's 
vulnerability to kiss her full on the mouth. Emma didn't resist, but she 
seemed somewhat surprised. "I didn't know you were .?"

"Were what?"

"Well! Liked other women. I always thought you were."

"I've always preferred the company of women," lied Tanya who much 
preferred a good fucking to anything a woman could do, even with the 
assistance of rubber dildos and the like. "Especially a woman as 
beautiful as you."

"But what about Rochester?"

"Rochester?" queried Tanya, thrown off guard. "Oh! Rochester! I 
don't know." She lowered her head onto Emma's breast, the better to 
look upset. "I just don't think there's any future for us. He tears my 
heart apart, but I think he prefers younger women." Tanya knew this 
was strictly true, but, in fact, she was beginning to be more than a little 
annoyed with the boy's tenacious soppy clinging onto her. Couldn't he 
just stop after the fucking, pack his clothes and leave her be, instead of 
insisting in telling her how much he loved her, and how she was so 
much better than all the other women. She'd already decided, after 
she'd finally persuaded him to let her poke his anus with a carrot, that 
she'd exhausted all that she'd ever wanted from the boy. "No, I think I 
prefer you much more to him."

"Is that true?" wondered Emma, seeming almost grateful. Indeed, 
she'd come to appreciate Tanya's physical beauty more and more 
while they were in the coffee shop, and had herself wondered what it 
might be like to make love with her. And this she soon came to find 
out, when Tanya escorted her back to her apartment just a couple of 
blocks away from the theatre. Past the concierge, up the elevator and 
then, after very little preparation, the two of them flung their bodies 
onto Tanya's large and all-engulfing mattress and made rather loud 
and passionate love.

It was actually Tanya who was the most surprised at the lovemaking. 
Although she was surrounded by her own possessions, the 
photographic prints of film stars, a colour scheme of deep reds, blues 
and purples, and wading on the fluffy luxury of her pillows and duvet, 
she did not feel as much in control as she normally did. It was Emma 
who took the lead, bringing Tanya and herself to spasms of ecstasy 
that she'd never enjoyed with a woman before. Her tongue explored 
every crevice of Tanya's golden skin, sometimes deep into the pink 
darkness of her vagina, tenderly activating her clitoris into a stiffness 
that none of her male lovers had achieved. Her fingers probed her arse 
and vagina, her flesh ground against the sweaty smoothness of her 
own. And Tanya was alarmed to find just how rough Emma could be: 
a roughness that she recognised in herself but was somehow reluctant 
to reciprocate. The pleasure of the licking, combined with the tugging 
of teeth on her nipples and labia. The tenderness of the stroking and 
caressing, contrasting suddenly with abrupt slaps on her arse and 
breasts. The penetration of her anus and vagina by tongue, fingers and 
full fist. She shook and shuddered as orgasms spread through her body 
expertly orchestrated by her naturist lover.

Tanya wasn't so sure she liked this kind of love. She was used to 
being the one in control, but she could see that in matters of lesbian 
love, she was very much the novice. Emma had clearly had many 
many woman lovers and knew exactly how to ensure that they 
achieved the most pleasure that they could. And, of course, unlike men 
whose sexual abilities rarely stretched beyond twenty minutes, and in 
some cases a mere fraction of that, Emma had the capacity, the 
willingness, the stamina and the appetite to keep on for hours, while 
draining from Tanya almost all the will-power she possessed.

Morning came. The sun shone through the gap in Tanya's curtains and 
onto Emma's naked back as she lay fast asleep on the bed. Tanya 
examined Emma with a critical eye. There was no  doubting Emma's 
beauty, although she wasn't that keen on the hairy armpits, the 
uncropped vagina and the light hairs on her legs. These bloody 
naturists! They just didn't have any idea how so unseemly hirsuteness 
was. Couldn't she even invest in a shaver? But then Emma's dress 
sense was about as ghastly as it could be. She dressed, when she 
dressed at all, in the most functional way: one which would have made 
the most beautiful woman in the world appear plain

She also decided that this would be the last time she would allow 
Emma back to her place at night. After all, she had her own domestic 
arrangements to look after, and she didn't appreciate the idea of Emma 
being around too often. It had been bad enough with Rochester, 
although it had often been quite easy to persuade him to go off to one 
of the many night clubs in the area with one of his many teenaged 
fans. After all, she had her two live-in lovers in the other bedroom to 
worry about, and although they were admirably discreet when Tanya 
brought her lovers back, chance meetings in the loo or on the stairs or 
in the kitchen could not be ruled out.

Karl and Anthony both contributed to the rent of the flat, which Tanya 
appreciated greatly. Especially as their combined contribution easily 
exceeded the actual cost of renting the flat, expensive as it was. And 
they were both pathetically, stupidly besotted with her. What little 
crumbs of lovemaking she let them have was quite sufficient to keep 
them gasping for more. They'd not known each other before they 
found themselves in the odd position of having to share the same bed 
together, and only rarely together with Tanya. And even then, they 
couldn't be sure that this would involve any intimacy with the true 
object of their passion. Although they weren't at all gay, even really 
bisexual, she always demanded that they have sex together while she 
watched. And she also liked evidence that they had sex together when 
she wasn't there. She knew that neither of them really enjoyed it, and 
to be honest, watching a man stick his erect penis deep into another 
man's arse wasn't really much of a turn-on for her either. But what she 
did like was the arbitrary exercise of her power over them, and their 
utter obedience to her whims.

The first time she'd got Karl to fuck Anthony had been the best for 
her. Anthony was clearly hating every minute as the prick Tanya 
stimulated to its full arousal pushed in, inch by painful inch, into 
Anthony's hairy taut arse. She loved seeing that expression of sheer 
agony and disgust on Anthony's face as he felt the prick go deeper into 
him than he'd ever imagined possible, aided by the petroleum jelly but 
not helped by Karl's own reluctance. She loved watching the two men 
nervously suck each other's cocks. And she insisted they continue 
until finally (and with a little assistance from her own manicured 
fingers) they came in a welcome release of semen, mingled with guilt, 
anxiety and sheer revulsion. But she knew they loved it. The more 
outrageous the demands she made of them, the more they seemed to 
want more. What was it that made people want to surrender 
themselves in such a humiliating way to her? Who knew? Who cared? 
It was enough to see Karl also being fucked by Anthony and finally to 
have to lick the shit from his arse off the dick.

Men were so stupid. Almost as stupid as women. She brushed her 
clitoris with excitement as she imagined what further humiliation she 
could command off the two. She could get Karl to fuck Anthony while 
masturbating his dick while Tanya pushed a dildo right up Karl's arse. 
She loved to see Karl grind his teeth and squeeze his eyes together, 
little tears emerging despite himself at the unfairness of it all. She 
loved making unreasonable demands of them, knowing that her two 
lovers would gladly give everything for her. And then give again. 
Until their balls were sore from abuse. Their arses aching from the 
pain of penetration. And their eyes stinging from the semen and urine 
that would be inflicted on their faces. And of course it was up to them 
to clean their shit-, blood-, sperm- and piss-covered sheets. She would 
never indulge herself on soiled sheets. That was one of her many rules.

Emma stirred and looked at her new lover from her recumbent 
position, half in and half out of the sheets. Tanya was so beautiful. 
And so randy. Look at how she was able to masturbate after all the 
lovemaking they'd had. Her long lithe waist. Her cute apple-shaped, 
apple-sized breasts with those stiff nipples she'd enjoyed nipping, 
sucking and chewing. That prim but perfect vagina, so clearly the 
object of many previous penetrations but kept neat and tidy: not falling 
out from her lips in the way that some sex stars' vaginas did. How had 
she deserved such a beautiful woman?. And such a passionate lover. If 
it weren't for Maisie, and her deep love for her, she'd be truly happy. 
She smiled up at Tanya, who noticed Emma's stirring and smiled back 
at her through teeth whiter than teeth should be, framed by lips which 
even without lipstick were  thick and almost red.

Tanya leaned over Emma and kissed her full on the lips, and stroked 
her breasts with her fingers, teasing one of them into a stiffness that 
she recognised as a prelude to future passion in the morning sunshine. 
"It was good, wasn't it?" Tanya asked, in a voice that had to swallow 
the real excitement that, despite herself, she genuinely felt.

"It was perfect!" replied Emma, before planting her tongue full 
between Tanya's ivory perfect teeth. "It was absolutely perfect!"




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

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