A Model Mother Pt. 03

The buzz Emily enjoyed after inviting two young men to masturbate over her in the space of twenty-four hours was incredible, but there was a bit of 'After the lords mayor's show' about the following weeks.

Emily successfully fought the urge to invite all and sundry to wank over her, much as she wanted it. She knew that if she wasn't careful there could be consequences for that sort of thing.

"It's one thing being a fun loving, sexy and flirty shopkeeper," she told herself, "But another altogether to be a willing wank target for anyone with a cock."

The trouble was, just thinking those words got her wet. She found herself saying them out loud, looking at herself solemnly in the mirror.

The voice of sensible Emily had been getting drowned out by the inexorable rise of Emily the whore. It tried to make one last appeal for her to come to her senses, but she battered it info submission.

"Slut!" she called herself. "You can't fight it. It's what you are. A wank target. A sperm receptacle. It's what you are for. You love them wanking over you, in the magazines, in the flesh, whatever. There's nothing wrong with that, accept it. You love cocks and cocks love you!"

The speed with which she'd found herself going from sharing a sexy flirt and tease with her customers, to posing naked and inviting them to wank on her was a little scary. But it was exhilarating, and she knew it was going to continue. The only questions were when, where, and with whom.

She felt as though she was finding out more about herself with each filthy encounter. And her discoveries were always fun. No doubt her celibacy for the best part of twenty years was a big reason for her sudden descent into debauchery, but it wasn't the only one. She knew this had always been in her. The situation, the shop and her sudden financial freedom had been the trigger for her to let it come out.

Emily had been sad when the butterfly vibrator had broken, which was inevitable given the prolonged, intensive use required of it. But it was quickly replaced by a new one, just in time for her appearance in 'Naughty Neighbours', the only publication she hadn't appeared in last month.

The buzz of showing off her new set was amazing, as usual. She was again spread across four pages, quickly stripping out of a nice summer dress to reveal nothing other than tan hold-up stockings and setting about some manual pleasure, pushing two, three and then four fingers deep inside herself.

Any pretence that she was anything other than ecstatic about being published for the sexual pleasure of strangers had long gone.

"He's done me a favour, I know that now," she sighed wistfully whilst showing an older guy this latest set. She was referring to her cover story which she'd concocted to explain why she was suddenly plastered over most of the adult magazines in her shop. A jilted ex who had decided to humiliate Emily by making public all the private pictures he had of her.

"I never knew I had this in me, but I just love it. Look at that, I think it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" The man agreed that, yes, Emily spreading her legs as far apart as they could go and cramming most of her hand inside her soaking cunt, whilst baring her teeth at the camera like a wild animal, was indeed a beautiful sight, and strolled off with a copy under his arm.

On Tuesday she was visited by her accountant. He spent an hour or two in the office and was very impressed with what he found.

"I've not seen a turnaround in a small business like this for some time," he frowned, reviewing the numbers on his ledger. I mean, your husband ran a tight ship, and he did pretty well for a business of this size. But you have increased revenue over eighteen percent, year on year. That's unheard of in this sector! All of it comes from the magazine sales -- do you know specifically what people are suddenly buying?"

"Well, yes, I think I do..." Johnathan Carver had been Mike's accountant even when Emily married him, at eighteen. He wasn't in the slightest bit attractive, but that wasn't really a factor to her, most of the time. Any man she could arouse was a tick in the right column.

"I found that the adult magazines sold really well. So, I really pushed them, and increased the range, covering more specialist subjects. It seems I can't get enough, they fly off the shelves!"

"Really? I'm not seeing that at other similar businesses. What exactly do you mean by 'specialist'?"

Emily thought showing Johnathan would be better than explaining and produced a copy of 'Wet and Open'.

"Here. it can get quite a bit more naughty than the traditional magazines, you see. People never used to be able to see this sort of stuff, so it's really popular!"

"Quite..." Johnathan adjusted his wire framed glasses and began turning the pages with more interest than you'd expect from a man of his age and demeanour. Emily watched him flick through a set of a pretty blonde, followed by an older looking brunette. Both were dressed for sex, and both sets were similar, some pussy spreading and fingering gaining some approving noises from Emily's accountant.

He made to turn the page over to the next set. Emily grabbed his hand, and he looked up, a little startled.

"I need to warn you before you turn the page. I think it might answer a lot of your questions." She released his hand, and he turned over.

The first picture was unmistakably Emily. She was in a kitchen dressed in some tiny, neon green shorts, and a tight pink crop top, nipples straining against the thin fabric. Her face was a picture of innocence, a sweet smile lighting up the page. Against her cheek she held a large aubergine.

Johnathan went to turn the page again and Emily briefly stopped him, deliberately adding to the tension and expectation.

"Don't judge me, OK?"

She wanted the opposite. She wanted to be exposed, observed, judged and rated. As the page turned, Emily giggled like a schoolgirl, making it clear she had no shame about what the accountant was looking at.

There were eight pictures across the two pages, one depicting Emily stripping off, one positioning the aubergine for insertion, and the rest showing in graphic detail her vagina being stretched obscenely wide by the fat egg plant. Her expression ranged from obvious pleasure to her infectious, bright smile.

Johnathan stared at these pictures for several minutes. Emily simply sat and watched him absorb her illicit activities, feeling a beautiful mix of arousal, shame and exhilaration. She noticed him shifting in his seat subtly and knew that the lump she could see in his pants was for her.

Finally, he flipped the page over. There was one more picture, a full-page shot of Emily smiling into the camera, proudly displaying the fruit she'd just removed, wet with her juice. She was relaxing back in a kitchen chair, her legs spread wide. Her cunt gaped open, a consequence of having that massive thing rammed up inside her for so long.

Emily let him absorb that one for a few minutes, leaving him alone to tend to the shop. When she returned, he stood up, holding the magazine over his crotch, looking embarrassed.

"Don't worry Johnathan. I know you'll be nice and hard. I mean, that's kind of the point, isn't it? I'd be worried if you weren't!" She busied herself, tidying up the desk as if this was the most normal situation in the world. "I've done quite a few shoots recently. I really enjoy it, I love seeing the effect it has on guys, it gives me a real thrill. And clearly my sales have gone from strength to strength!"

The accountant had placed the magazine back on the desk, the picture of Emily's gaping cunt staring proudly out at them. He was gathering his stuff, seeming quite flustered, his briefcase replacing the magazine in front of his crotch.

"Are you OK Johnathan?" Emily asked innocently. "It's fine, honestly. Here, take it home." She slid the copy of 'Wet and Open' into his bag, and he walked out with a dazed expression on his face. "I won't tell Sheila, don't worry." She called after him.

Emily realised that she had very few worries about people finding out now. Family might be different, but she didn't really care what they knew either. In a funny way, seeing Johnathan's reaction had opened a new door. She now found herself wanting to be present and unashamed when people she'd known all her life found out about her new interests.

Far from feeling any contrition, she was becoming intensely proud of herself. Johnathan and his wife Sheila had been guests at Stephen's christening, twenty years ago. Their children had attended each other's birthday parties, and Mike and Johnathan had even gone away on a golfing holiday, she recalled.

And now the accountant was heading home with a hard cock, no doubt to immediately wank over Emily cramming an aubergine into her shaven cunt. The next time she saw him, he'd likely have masturbated over her pictures many times. She liked this thought.

The only awkward one was Stephen. He was going to find out, no doubt. Emily put that to the back of her mind -- she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Emily's thoughts turned to what was next. She didn't like the fact that, after this month, she would no longer be available to buy and be masturbated over. Her stock of pictures from her photo session was exhausted. She needed to do something about that.

In a happy coincidence, the phone rang that very afternoon. It was Alan, the photographer responsible for all of the wonderful material that Emily was so grateful for.

"I thought you said those pictures were for your own personal use!" he started, sounding slightly indignant.

"Oh! Well, I decided they were so good, it seemed a shame to keep them hidden."

"How much did you get for them?"

"Nothing! I just sent them in, I didn't know whether they'd print them or not."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No!"

Yeah, well they were yours to do what you want with. But you are missing a trick. You do realise that those mags would all have paid well for all of those sets?"

"Really?" Emily knew the value of her work -- she couldn't fail to; she saw the effect on her pervs every day. But she liked to play the innocent and craved exposure much more than money.

"Really. Listen, I'm guessing from the fact that you've been seen in every jazz mag there is in the past month, that you don't have a problem with people seeing this stuff?"

"You might say that. I've actually found that I like it, a lot."

"Well then, I have a proposal for you..."

Alan detailed his idea. It was perfect. Alan would take her pictures, just as he'd done before, but now she'd be the one receiving a fee. And, in return, she'd sign a waiver and he could do anything he liked with the photos he took. This meant she'd be regularly published, not just here, but abroad too, Alan said.

Emily agreed immediately, even before he'd mentioned the rate she could charge. She'd previously paid out of her own pocket for the privilege of being exposed, so to get the same exposure and money to boot was amazing.

She was back at Alan's studio by the weekend. Alan was much more inquisitive this time. The previous visit Emily had been assuming the identity of a loving girlfriend doing some naughty poses for her boyfriend. But now the truth was out. She was now opening her legs for money, there was no hiding it.

But unlike Alan's other models, the money really was an afterthought for Emily. The fact that she'd appeared in so many magazines already without receiving a single penny was testament to this.

The shoot went very similar to the last time. Emily had brought a range of outfits with her. And Alan had quite a selection of his own on rails on one side of the studio. In every set she stripped off slowly for some tasteful, teasing shots, so that Alan could put together a 'mainstream' set. Things then got a bit more exciting as she posed for a much more explicit set of pictures.

Emily loved it all, but the dirtier Alan's requests became, the more she enjoyed herself. Alan's lens only a few inches from her soaking cunt, held wide open to make sure there was no doubt just how aroused she was, could have been the eyes of the hundreds or even thousands of horny men who were going to see these pictures.

Alan couldn't fail to notice just how into this Emily was, not least when he had to pause proceedings as she brought herself to orgasm. The situation, and the knowledge that the world was going to be buying these pictures soon enough made it impossible to resist.

Her fingers found her clit and for a few minutes Alan let the camera hang around his neck loosely -- there was no point trying to photograph this scene, beautiful as it was, Emily's fingers would have been a blur.

"I've got to say," he murmured in admiration as Emily's convulsions died down and he resumed his job, getting some great shots of the dildo still pushed deep inside her, and her pretty face looking down between those lovely tits into the camera, "I've not had a girl in here who is half as much into this as you."

"Thanks," Emily smiled sweetly, her body relaxed and tingly from the orgasm, which was the first of many.

Emily started giving herself Saturdays off, and that became her 'studio' day, although sometimes the location varied. Alan had suggested outdoor shots sell well, and Emily had agreed immediately, her mind going back to those sessions in the woods with Pav she'd enjoyed so much.

After some fun sessions in car parks and semi-public areas such as quiet country lanes, Emily pushed this further than Alan had intended. She wanted to be pictured naked in the most inappropriate places. This meant for some creativity, and some early starts, Emily losing her long trench coat and standing proudly naked in the high street and beside local landmarks, before the world woke up.

Even at just after sunrise, there were frequent occasions where a passer-by would suddenly appear from around a corner to be greeted by Emily naked on a bench, legs open, or bending over a wall as Alan took his pictures. This was sheer bliss for her and she'd remain exposed, sometimes even talking to the people who'd stumbled upon her, to varying reactions.

Alan continued to be impressed.

"Jesus, Em," he said on the train back from Chelmsford, after a session which had started with her posing naked in front of the cathedral at the crack of dawn, and finished with her sitting brazenly, open legged and cunt on full display, in the busy station.

She'd timed it to coincide with their train arriving, but several appreciative passers-by enjoyed her sitting exposed like that for a full minute before she stood and slid her short skirt down and walked calmly onto the train before the handful of transport police patrolling around had time to register what was happening.

"You are the real deal, aren't you? I mean, I spend my life taking pictures of girls who are mostly just pretending to be what you actually are. You just fucking love it, don't you?"

"I do!" Emily grinned. This wasn't a point that could be argued.

The short lull in Emily's descent into depravity, as she liked to term it, had been replaced by further progress. Alan was finding her material very lucrative. She had an idea that he was doing far better out of this, financially, than he might have been expected to. He paid Emily a flat fee for her time, seventy pounds an hour.

But from this time, he had thousands of pictures which he owned the rights to and could sell to whoever he wanted. And he could sell the same set multiple times, to different markets, home and abroad. He was doing very nicely out of this arrangement.

Emily had happily signed away any rights to the growing number of images of her body. Truth be told, her payment came in the knowledge that the magazines Vikesh delivered were increasingly likely to contain footage of herself. She'd swap money for exposure, any day of the week.

She'd set the scene with her regular pervs, making sure everyone was aware that she'd decided, after enjoying the 'surprise' of being unknowingly exposed to all and sundry so much, that she'd like to explore this further.

"I just thought, why not!" she'd muse as she sold magazine after magazine. "I honestly enjoyed it, a lot. And I get the feeling you guys liked it too, right? So, where's the harm?"

Expectation amongst her customers built, with Emily at least as excited as anyone else for her next appearance. The fact that she had no idea where or when it might be only served to increase the constant state of arousal she felt.

Tonight was the evening before Vikesh's next delivery, and she was finding it almost unbearable. It was almost time to shut up shop as a good-looking gentleman she recognised came in and made straight for the top shelves.

She smiled to herself; this guy was one of her favourites. He had never been a purchaser of porn until a few months back, when Emily had casually mentioned how her ex had betrayed her.

She'd then shown him the evidence of this betrayal in graphic detail. He'd been impressed by what she'd sold him and had subsequently returned for more. Emily congratulated herself on her upselling skills.

"What are you after today?" she asked casually sauntering over to him. He was a little older than her, she thought, maybe early forties. He had dark, greying hair, was quite tall and was wearing a nice navy-blue suit. If Emily had a type, she thought he was probably it. If she was in the market for something more than a hard cock, he'd be on her radar. He turned to her with a smile.

"Well, I don't suppose you've got anything featuring yourself this month, have you?"

"Oh, that's sweet!" she smiled. She liked the younger ones' nervousness and embarrassment, but she also liked the more confident air of an older gentleman. "Not this month. But I've got a feeling that might change tomorrow; I've got a delivery coming in."

"Really?" He looked surprised. He hadn't had the update from Emily, that her unexpected exposure had inspired her to repeat the process voluntarily.

Emily took great pleasure in telling him the full story. His face was a picture as he realised what she'd been up to.

"It sounds like I'm going to be spending a lot of money here -- will you be, I mean, do you do the sort of things you showed me before?"

"Definitely! Did you like it then? Tell me what you liked."

"You looked so sexy, so happy to be doing that stuff."

He was being too gentlemanly for Emily. She pushed things along.

"What did you prefer -- watching me spread my pussy open for you? Or pushing that cucumber into my wet little cunt?"

"Oh Christ!" he laughed. He'd gone a little red. "All of the above! I just kept -- keep -- thinking about how beautiful and attractive you are, and how in the world you do some of those things and seem to enjoy it so much."

"Oh, I do. I really do. What I really love is knowing that there will be all these eyes on me, and all these cocks rock hard looking at me getting dirty. Did you wank over me?"

He gulped. This wasn't a question he was used to being asked. Emily wasn't like any woman he'd met before. There was an easy answer though.

"Yes."

"How many times?"

"I've lost count."

Emily glanced at the clock. It was closing time. She knew what was going to happen, she'd known it since this guy had walked in. It had been at least a couple of months since Richard and Ryan, so one more now wouldn't do any harm.

She didn't even know his name, and she didn't want to.

"Listen, I'm shutting up shop now. Do you want to wank over me? I'd like it if you did."

There was something incredibly empowering about just coming out with something like that. Emily savoured the instant change in mood, the silence which meant she could hear her own heart beating against her ribcage. The man's face, so incredulous about what was happening, what Emily was offering him, made her feel like a princess. A slutty, slutty princess.