Emma Ch. 03

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***

TWO DAYS LATER

"Good morning Miss Bond!" Mr Mori, the concierge called out as we entered the lobby a few days later.

"Good morning Mr Mori," Emma replied.

"I need to tell you. You should use side entrance this morning," Mr Mori said as he waddled up to us in an almost comical fashion.

"Is there a problem?"

"There are lots of photographers outside."

Emma and I exchanged glances immediately. Neither of us were happy to hear this but at the same time, we weren't surprised. Emma looked back to Mr Mori and asked,

"How many?"

"I count five," he replied.

I turned to Emma and shrugged, "That's not too bad."

Emma didn't look like she agreed and asked, "Do they know I'm staying here at the hotel?"

"No, absolutely not. You signed in under Caroline Bond, they ask for 'Watson'. We tell them 'no Watson here'," Mr Mori replied with pride. "But they...how do you say it...suspect you here."

"Well shit," I muttered, to which Mr Mori nodded in fierce agreement.

"Could you go out there?" Emma said to me.

"What?"

"Scout the place out. I don't want to have to leave unless we have to?"

"Leave?! Do you mean the hotel or the country?"

"Could you please just..." Emma begged as she trailed off.

It was plain to see from her expression that this sudden turn of events hadn't gone down well for Emma. For the first time since we arrived in Japan, she actually seemed mildly stressed. It was not a state of mind I liked to see her in. I simply nodded and without another word, headed towards the exit.

Outside of the hotel, it seemed like another normal day in Tokyo. However as I looked more carefully, there were several people on the other side of the road setting up tripods and cameras. They found us.

Like Mr Mori said, there were only five of them. It didn't seem like much now, but Emma subscribed to the "when it rains it pours" belief when it comes to paparazzi. By some dumb luck, one of them was Caucasian. I crossed the road and approached him. Long story short, after a quick talk with the photographer I discovered that they had received an anonymous tip that Emma was staying at the hotel. None of them were sure, but then staking out hotels and other such places was their job. After a few minutes, I walked back into the hotel to find Emma and Mr Mori were standing right where I'd left them.

"I hear Paris is wonderful this time of year," I said.

Emma closed her eyes and lowered her head before muttering, "Shit."

***

"India?" Emma asked expectantly.

"I don't like Indian food," I replied.

"You're writing off an entire country because you don't like the food."

"This from the girl who took 20 minutes to order sushi the other night?"

"Fair point; and I'm still disappointed I didn't order the noodles," she muttered and before asking, "Switzerland?"

"Maybe. But just to clarify, you're still against Paris?"

"Too many paparazzi. It can be almost as bad as LA," Emma said as she continued to look at the travel brochures laid out in front of us. After a few moments, her suddenly eyes lit up and she said, "Come to think of it, if we bought a Eurail pass, we could stop in Paris for a day or two on our way to Switzerland. We could even visit a bunch of other places while we're at it. Travelling on the Eurail trains is much more private and hassle-free than flying."

"I like that. A romantic train ride through Europe ending with you naked on a rug in front of a roaring fire in the Swiss Alps."

"Why is it that every time I list a new country, all you can do is picture where I'll be naked?"

"Because it is a very VERY beautiful picture. And if you don't believe me, I suggest you strip right now."

Emma smiled and teasingly replied, "Of all the guys in the world and I had to pick the one with the maturity of a horny 16 year old as a boyfriend."

I smiled, "Do you realise every time you mock me, your voice sounds at least three times more English."

"I am English," she said plainly as she continued to read a Eurail brochure. "So should I book the tickets?"

I simply nodded in reply as that smile that I loved so much spread across her face.

***

7 WEEKS LATER

Two days in Mykonos.

Four in Venice.

Three in Rome.

Two in Paris.

Three in Madrid.

Two in Ibiza

Intersperse in between these stays was an accumulated total of two weeks spent idly riding the Eurail trains and stopping at various European locales.

All in all, it was a hell of a journey. We had a great time at each location whether it was the Mykonos beaches, gondola rides through Venice or simply sitting in a pizza bar in Rome. Emma seemed to particularly enjoy being on the trains. She craved anonymity but not necessarily isolation, so it was nice environment in which to relax and take in the sights as we zoomed through the European countryside. And the best part of this trip was that we only encountered the paparazzi once when I dragged Emma along to a soccer match in Madrid. Otherwise, we slipped in and out of each city so quietly and we were never in one place for long enough to make much of a splash. We of course ran into many of Emma's fans, but the occasional autograph and photo was a small price to pay.

Eventually, we ended up in Geneva as agreed. And wouldn't you know it; we haven't encountered one paparazzo since. Even the hotel staff seemed surprisingly blasé about Emma's presence. This suited us just fine and for the first time since Japan, we decided to get settled in for a long stay. We'd been here for over two weeks, and although downtown Geneva wasn't quite in the Swiss Alps, it was still cold enough that we could curl up naked in front of a fireplace in each others arms.

Perhaps ironically, at that moment Emma was holding the one thing she had been trying to get away from; a camera.

"This is a nice photo of you in Paris," Emma said as she tilted the camera's screen so I could see.

"I love that one," I said as I habitually traced my finger around her breasts.

Emma didn't seem to mind as she continued to flick through the photos, "This one of us is gorgeous. Isn't this the one that nice Asian couple took for us?"

I craned my head to see a shot of us on a boat on the Seine in Paris. "Yeah. Nice photo, although your nipples are pointing through your shirt," I said while simultaneously tugging gently at her nipple with my thumb and forefinger.

"Ow," she said as she slapped my hand away before replying, "It was a chilly morning and I wasn't wearing a bra. Oh well, still a nice photo."

I took a moment to look at her; completely naked, wearing no makeup and illuminated by the fireplace and by the camera's LCD screen. She was absolutely stunning.

"I have half a mind to turn that camera on you right now," I said.

"Don't you dare," she said, placing the camera to one side. "I bought that camera so we could take some photos during our trips, not so you could make some sleazy sex tape."

"Still paranoid about that?" I laughed.

"Put it this way, things like that have a way of leaking onto the internet. And with what we've done," Emma said with a shudder.

"Will you relax, I was joking. Besides, if I wanted to film you, I'd have done it while I had you tied to the bed back in Venice."

Emma smiled and shook her head. "I still can't believe you talked me into that."

"You didn't take much convincing," I said, before leaning in close to her and speaking softly into her ear; "And admit it, you enjoyed it; laying there spread-eagled and helpless as I teased you to an orgasm."

Emma was silent for a moment and struggled to stifle a smile. She wasn't very successful and in fact looked just a little bit turned on as she replied,

"It was okay."

"You came three times," I said smugly as I lay back down.

"Two times. Don't exaggerate."

"I'll say this much, you enjoyed being tied down more than you did the anal."

"Oh God, we're never doing that again," she said firmly.

"We were in Rome, and when in Rome," I said with a chuckle.

"It wasn't so much the 'when in Rome' spirit so much as a drunken game of truth or dare," Emma replied with a smile.

"You shouldn't have picked dare," I said before adding, "I think we were supposed to use more lube."

Emma laughed and replied, "Trust me, lack of lubricant was not what make that experience bad."

Suddenly, the telephone rang. I gave Emma a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up. I could feel her eyes on my body as I walked towards the phone and picked it up.

"Yes?" I answered.

A man with a thick European accent was on the other line and replied, "I've cleared the area as you asked. It's yours for the next hour."

"Thank you. We'll be there in five minutes," I replied before hanging up.

I grabbed a hotel bathrobe that was slung over the couch and put it on. Emma furrowed her brow as she looked at me.

"Who was on the phone?" she asked.

"Grab your robe," I replied.

"My my, haven't we become spoilt. There's a naked actress in front of a roaring fireplace and you ask her to put on clothes," Emma tutted teasingly. "You've changed Nate."

"Don't worry, you won't be wearing them for long."

Emma looked confused as she slowly sat up and looked around for her robe. In a way, Emma was right. It is remarkable how I've gotten so use to seeing her in various states of undress. In that moment, I thought back to the first time I saw her naked in that Sydney hotel room so long ago. She was wearing a hotel bathrobe back then too. We had only just met the night before and yet suddenly she was at my door in the middle of the night inviting me into her room. I still remember the sexy little motion she had made to shrug her bathrobe off. I remember those tiny pink panties and the flimsy tank top she wore underneath. And I of course remember seeing Emma Watson naked for the first time. I remember going straight for her tits and filling my hands with them while sucking long and hard at her nipples; Emma Watson's nipples.

I'd tried to convince myself many times since then that I was attracted to her because of her personality as oppose to the fact she was an insanely attractive movie star. Looking back, I'm not sure how true that is. After all, I remember thinking to myself for days afterwards, "I fucked Hermione Granger". But that was then. All I know is that right now, her fame was more of a bother than a turn on. I loved her for her. I don't know when the transition occurred, maybe earlier this year when we were reunited in Sydney. But in any event it doesn't really matter. It was just validating to know how far our relationship had matured.

"Where to now?" she said, interrupting my reminiscing.

***

There was something delightfully mischievous about walking through a hotel late at night wearing a bathrobe and nothing else underneath. The lack of clothes seemed to concern Emma more as she clung tightly to her robe. Emma remained oblivious as to what I had planned but followed me nonetheless down the hallway, into the elevator and all the way up to the top floor. Eventually we reached a set of double doors and walked through to find a hotel staffer I knew as Alexander. After a quick exchange, I handed him a couple hundred Euros before shaking his hand. Alex left and closed the doors behind him.

I turned around to see Emma standing by the edge of the indoor pool. Most of the lights in the pool area had been turned off. The room was mostly illuminated by the lights at the bottom of the pool and from the Geneva city lights pouring through the plate-glass windows on two sides of the room.

"Romantic," Emma muttered.

"And expensive. You'd be surprised how much it costs to close down an indoor pool area for an hour."

"I'm afraid I left my bathing suit back in room," Emma said.

"Won't need it," I said as I walked up behind her and reached around, grabbing both sides of her robe. Emma's hands shot up and stopped me at once.

"Are you sure we're alone?"

"Tinted windows and no cameras," I replied confidently.

She slowly let go of my hands and put her arms down by her sides. With one fluid motion, I pulled her robe back and down the length of her body letting it drop silently to the floor. Emma didn't look back and instead knelt down before sliding silently into the pool. I stood for a moment and watched her naked body gliding quietly underneath the water, softly illuminated by the pool lights. When she came up for air, her hair was swept back behind her head and shone in the dim light. She turned to look at me seductively, her nipples barely visible beneath the surface of the water.

Without another thought, I shrugged off my robe and dove into the warm waters. She looked almost angelic as she floated in the middle of the pool waiting for me. I dipped my head underneath the water and waded towards her. From underneath the water, I could see the blurry outline of her nude body coming closer and closer with every stroke until she was right in front of me. I came up for air and there she was in front of me. The chlorine in the water forced me to shut my eyes momentarily but even before my vision had even cleared, I felt familiar lips brush against mine and soon we were kissing in the middle of the pool. I lifted her ever so slightly out of the water and ran my hands over her wet, slippery breasts. I firmly squeezed one only to have it slip out of my hand. Emma similarly ran her hands up and down my back before groping my rear. I broke our kiss and began planting kisses along her long slender neck.

"This was a great idea Nate," she said softly.

Emma began to playfully float away but I grabbed her by her hips and pulled her back to me. Emma didn't exactly have supermodel's body; in fact she was a small girl with a lean build. As a result, I had no trouble holding her in place against me as I began to run my hands across her lithe body from her slender neck and down to the top of her wet slippery breasts. Emma craned her head back as we continued to kiss. As her arse pressed against my throbbing erection, I fought the urge to take her then and there. But with an hour alone with Emma in the pool, I decided to pace myself. Instead, I reached around with my other hand and slid it between her legs.

I began by ever so gently stimulating her clitoris. Emma moaned softly but continued to kiss me. We floated in the middle of the pool like that for some time. It was hard to gauge how wet she was given our current circumstances but as my fingers began to rub her sensitive area harder and quicker, Emma's breathing became shallower. Once I was satisfied that Emma was sufficiently turned on and desperate for an orgasm, I inserted two fingers inside of her as I had done so many times before and felt the walls of her vagina contracting tightly.

Emma's whole body shook at the penetration. She leaned forward slightly and splashed around for a moment. I held her firmly in place by the waist and let my hand have free reign over her vagina. I started thrusting my fingers in and out of her as I continued to rub her clitoris with my thumb. Not knowing what else to do with her hands, Emma reached up and began to fondle her own breasts with one hand and with the other, pulled my head towards her. I obliged and began planting kisses up and down the length of her neck. As my fingers probed deep inside of her, I could slowly begin to differentiate between the water and her juices. I ran my lips up and down her neck before whispering into her ear,

"Tell me when you cum."

"Not yet," she said with ragged breaths.

I began to curl my fingers back inside of her and pushed hard against a particularly sensitive area. I suddenly felt Emma's hips rock back but I continued to hold her firmly in place.

"Not yet," she said again.

I pushed my two fingers as deep inside of her as I could, eliciting a soft cry from her lips. I applied pressure on her clitoris with my thumb and once more, curled my fingers back inside of her applying even more pressure inside of her. Emma arched her back and for a moment, the top half of her body rose out of the water as her wet tits glistened in the pale light.

"Almost," she said in barely audible whisper.

I decided to substitute force for speed and began to rub her clit faster while swirling my fingers around inside of her faster and faster. Soon I put my whole arm into it and assaulted her most sensitive areas without mercy. Emma threw her head back, causing her hair to flick back sending water flying across the pool. The sight of that only made me grow harder and made me finger her more intensely.

It was hard to tell whether she was cumming because of the water, however after spending months with Emma, I didn't need to feel her juices squirt onto my hand to know she was having an orgasm. Without warning, Emma's jaw slackened as she audibly exhaled and her whole body stiffened.

"Now I'm cumming!" Emma gasped raggedly.

I held her tightly as I sunk my fingers deep inside of her one last time, firmly pressing against both her clitoris and her g-stop deep inside her vagina. She bucked against me, thrashing in the water violently as she instinctively pushed her hips back against me once more. Emma let out a loud cry that seemed to reverberate across the large room. I quickly took my hand away from her waist and brought it up to cover her mouth. With one hand still between her legs, forcing her arse against my own groin while my other hand covered her mouth, Emma's muffled moans continued as her orgasm reached its peak and began to slowly subside. I could feel her lips spreading and her loud cries reverberating against my palm as she continued to convulse for at least another minute. Eventually, she weakly reached up and pulled my hand away from her mouth and leaned against me silently. I tread water for the both of us as Emma composed herself.

"Too loud," I eventually chuckled.

"Shut up," she mumbled in reply.

"I love you too Em."

***

We had sex in the pool once more and messed around poolside until the time came for us to leave. As we were walking back to the room, Emma said,

"By the way, some German diplomat will be staying at the hotel soon."

"And we're afraid of Germans because..."

"No," Emma laughed. "It just that this guy is apparently a big deal so the concierge is expecting a lot of press, which means we might want to get going soon."

"Okay. How about we go to that hotel we had drinks at the other night, I liked that one."

"Really? You want to stay in Geneva?"

"Why not, I liked it here. Don't you?"

"I love it, even though my boyfriend is too afraid to go skiing with me which kinda defeats the purpose of holidaying in Geneva."

"I like taking your clothes off, not adding on thick coats."

"And you're afraid of hurting yourself on the slopes."

"Well yeah, that too," I admitted.

Emma chuckled and said, "Besides, I'm starting to get sick of the cold. I was thinking we could go to London?"

"London?!" I said sounding more surprised than I had intended.

I didn't have anything against London, but when Emma and I decided to runaway together, she told me she wanted to avoid what she referred to as "paparazzi hot zones"; this included Los Angeles, New York, London and Paris. We had risked a short trip to Paris during which Emma was worried the whole time that our private vacation might turn very public. Being Emma's home, going to London seemed like heading straight into the hornet's nest; or at least that's what she had led me to believe.

"I know what I've said before," Emma replied as if reading my mind, before continuing, "But I'm keen on seeing some of my family and friends. This is the longest I've spent away without at least paying them a short visit."

"You're willing to risk the ensuing media circus?"

"I am actually; but it shouldn't be a problem. We'll be in and out just like in Paris. Besides, it's not the end of the world if the paparazzi do see us and they take a few snaps."