Emma Ch. 33



“I’m pregnant!” Shouted Charlotte joyfully, running into the flat pulling off her overcoat as she did so and revealing her naked body underneath. “Josephine! It’s official! I’m pregnant! And you’re the father!”

Josephine had only just relieved herself of the weight of her own clothes while persuading young Robert, (the man she’d invited back for the two of them) to drop his trousers and reveal the erect penis she was about to exercise with her lips and tongue. She let the purple mass of the glans fall out of her mouth and jumped up to greet her lover. She put her arms around Charlotte’s shoulders and pulled her close to her while showering her face with kisses.

“That’s wonderful news!” She exclaimed showing her joy in her lover’s own delight. “Absolutely wonderful! But I can’t possibly be considered the father...”

“Who else can? And in my eyes only you can be considered the real father. I shall be the mother and what else can you be?” Charlotte noticed Robert sitting sheepishly on the edge of the bed, his penis still fully erect and still moist with the traces of Josephine’s saliva. “Oh hello, there! I’m pregnant! At last! All our hard work. Rewarded! The doctor said there was no doubt about it. We’re going to be parents. You and I, Josephine. Parents! We must get married soon.”

“We must! We must!” Agreed Josephine, who despite her own pleasure was more than a little concerned about what to do with Robert whose services seemed pretty well redundant now.

“Is Susan in? I must tell her the good news. She must know as well.”

Susan wasn’t in, although she arrived a few hours later with Fatima. Josephine was pleased to see that despite the ostensible reason for inviting Robert around (to assist in getting Charlotte pregnant) was no longer terribly relevant, Charlotte was so overwhelmed with happiness that it wasn’t at all long until the three of them were indulging in as frantic and as single-minded a love session as ever before. Robert was clearly more than a little put out by the manipulative fashion in which he was used by the two lovers, but Charlotte still enjoyed his thrusts into her well-oiled vagina while she delved her tongue deep into Josephine’s mouth. He did not appreciate at all the way he was pushed to one side when Susan appeared, wearing just a dildo and a single-breasted jacket, with Fatima wearing nothing but her black silk stockings and stilettos.

“It’s happened at last!” Charlotte announced to Susan who was still consumed in envy at Josephine’s much stronger grip on Charlotte’s affections. “I’m going to be a mother. And Josephine’s the father!”

Fatima and Susan joined in the celebrations and took turns at being fucked by Robert who, however tired he was getting, was stimulated into life by the expert tongues and fingers of the four very voracious women: sometimes penetrating Fatima, sometimes Susan and most often of all Charlotte to whom the other three women always deferred. She had somehow gained a primacy of attention, and Josephine knew this wasn’t merely to do with her being pregnant. For the only woman in the company who ever professed to being a lesbian she was also strangely enough the one who got the most unfeigned pleasure from being fucked by a man. As long as she was also having love made to her at the same time by a woman it didn’t shake her professed preference for lesbian sex. It wasn’t too long until Josephine was huddled into a trio of lovemaking with Susan and Fatima, while Charlotte rocked backwards and forwards under the constant, almost mechanical, thrusts provided by Robert, her legs high in the air, her hands gripping the edges of the bed and sweat running down her brow, over her shoulders and dripping steadily onto the sheets. All the while she observed Fatima’s eyes roaming enviously towards the heterosexual lovemaking, her tongue deep in the rich smells of Susan’s vagina and her anus being deeply penetrated by Josephine’s fingers.

The news of Charlotte’s pregnancy had to be spread. As soon as the lovemaking was over and Charlotte had recovered sufficiently from her spent passions, she was on the telephone to her parents whom Josephine gauged were not quite as overwhelmed with joy at their daughter carrying the child of one of an uncountable selection of men as Charlotte would have liked them to have been. “It doesn’t matter who donated the sperm,” Charlotte was explaining, her happiness slightly compromised, “the real father is Josephine.” Her lover was touched by Charlotte’s unswerving loyalty to her, although she had more than a little sympathy for the parents’ lack of enthusiasm, particularly as she reflected on the decided coolness of her own parents towards even the notion of marriage to a woman. The unalterable fact was that there was no very easy way of tracking down the real father, except by genetic sampling. And that only if the man could be ever located: itself not especially easy in the world of Sex actors.

The next to be informed was Emma, who was at home, although quite clearly Maisie wasn’t. In the few words Josephine had with Emma it was clear that although the woman whom Charlotte believed still deserved that proportion of the affection not reserved for Josephine herself was not so much overwhelmed by happiness with what Charlotte considered as good news as somewhat upset and bitter by the absence from home, on rather more nights than not, of her own lover. Emma was at least very supportive of her best friend, promising to come round almost immediately: a promise that no one doubted she would fulfil.

Emma was soon at the flat, sniffed disdainfully at Robert who was lying asleep on her old bed and greeted Fatima with a distinct lack of affection. But for Charlotte and Josephine she soon submerged her own feelings of bitterness and sadness, and the three women were soon embracing each other on the other bed. Both Josephine and Emma huddled around Charlotte’s stomach and vagina, which was rather more notable for the smell of semen and vaginal juice than for any visible traces of pregnancy, although Josephine fancied that, through the taut muscles of Charlotte’s stomach, she could feel a swelling she’d not noticed before. Susan and Fatima looked on from a distance: the oriental girl’s face seeming rather tragically sad and her dildo quite ridiculous projecting from between her slim thighs; and her lover rather embarrassed and uncomfortable.

However, why should Josephine care? She smiled at Emma, whose face was inches from her own as Charlotte sighed in quiet ecstasy while her two lovers lazily engaged their attention around her lower regions. She looked up at the woman to whom she had announced her paternity and felt overwhelmed by the strength of the passion and love that was projected. She felt thoroughly unworthy of such devotion, particularly as she was still hiding her own infertility and therefore inequality in the two lovers’ baby-making endeavours. A powerful wave of emotion rippled over her as she reflected on the commitment Charlotte had expressed to her: a commitment which went as far as was humanly possible in a homosexual relationship. A commitment which would soon as much encompass parenthood and marriage as any heterosexual relationship, and one in which she was so much more the equal partner than could otherwise be possible. She kissed Emma tenderly on the lips, and then pulled herself level with Charlotte’s face. With unprompted and unfeigned tears coursing down her cheeks she nuzzled her face against Charlotte’s and kissed her beautiful lips, eyes and cheeks again and again and again.

Life at the flat had certainly changed since the early days when Charlotte had shared the flat with only Emma and Harriet. Almost as soon as Harriett returned back from her extended tour filming Sex Abroad she made preparations to move into Isabel’s flat and out of the flat for which she’d be paying the rent in absentia for so long: a rent the amount of which varied quite astonishingly as bewilderingly different numbers of women took residence there. She came back one evening to see how things were, and was a little astonished to find Charlotte and Josephine together making love in the living room, while in Emma’s old room she found Susan and Fatima engaged in post-coital caresses with dribbles of viscous liquid still lubricating the dildo strapped semi-permanently around Susan’s waist. Susan leaped up and kissed Harriett passionately on the mouth.

“I thought you were never coming back!” she exclaimed, admiring Harriett’s trim body so brown after exposure to the tropical sun but as always restrained in a pair of shorts and a singlet. “And this must be Isabel, who you’ve told us so much about in your letters!”

She gestured towards Isabel, who was standing, topless as always in a sun hat and a long floral skirt down to her sandalled ankles, and tanned a golden brown herself. Her large firm breasts stood out in their full magnificence and even Fatima, so accustomed to Amna’s own surgically enhanced breasts, found them rather a revelation. Isabel smiled at the slim oriental girl with the outsize dildo standing out incongruously from her middle. “Pleased to meet you,” she said. “You must be Emma.”

“No, Emma doesn’t live here any more,” Harriett remarked. “This is Susan. And I don’t know who her friend is?”

“Fatima!” announced the other woman standing up with skin browner than Harriett’s but not from any exposure to the sun. In fact she had never exposed any of her flesh to the sun, reserving her nudity for indoor sport. Even then she was rarely wholly naked, for she would wear, as she was wearing now, black stockings and rarely kicked off her stilettos. She stood up, extending a hand to Harriett. “I’m delighted to meet you!”

She kissed Harriett tenderly on the lips, and then turned around to face Isabel. “And you must be Harriett’s director?”

“I would hope that’s not all I am!” Isabel announced, examining Fatima’s slim stockinged figure and the dribble of orgasmic juice that was so visibly staining the seams of the stockings.

“I’ve looked forward to meeting you for so long!” Fatima continued, approaching Isabel and kissing her on the lips just as she’d just kissed Harriett. “And not merely because I’ve heard about you from Susan. I’ve long been an admirer of your work.”

“You have?” asked Isabel, at once both flattered and wary.

Harriett addressed Susan. “How is the happy mother to be? How does Charlotte feel about being pregnant?”

“Why not let’s ask her?” She announced, bouncing to her feet and pulling a short tee-shirt over her head. Harriett followed Susan as she wandered into the adjoining room. “I would say that she seems more delighted than I’d ever believed possible. You wouldn’t believe how many people have participated in her endeavours to get pregnant!”

Harriett fancied that she could detect a trace of bitter jealousy in Susan’s voice, but she dismissed it from her mind as she joined Susan with Charlotte and Josephine who were engaged in mutual oral sex. Charlotte’s face was buried in Josephine’s cunt, while Harriett could see Josephine’s eyes above her tongue which was rubbing itself raw on her lover’s pudenda. Josephine glanced up as Harriett and Susan entered, and saw them.

“Oh! Look! Charlotte! Look who it is!” exclaimed Josephine.

Charlotte, with all too apparent reluctance, removed her face from Josephine’s cunt and looked over her buttocks to see who it might be. Seeing Harriett, she gasped in apparent delight, and the couple disengaged themselves from each other and stood naked in front of their flatmate, sweat sliding down their chests and onto their thighs. Charlotte pulled Harriett to her breast, hugged her tightly and showered her face with kisses. “I’m pregnant!” She announced. “I’m going to have a baby! And Josephine’s the father!”

“Josephine?” Wondered Harriett in genuine disbelief, looking at the supposed father’s crotch to assess by what means she’d attained this apparent status.

Josephine smiled indulgently. “Not the father in the biological sense!” She explained. “Someone else (and we’ve no idea who!) has that particular distinction. But Charlotte says that as I participated in the conception then I have as much right to be considered the father as anyone else.”

Harriett was genuinely puzzled by these assertions of paternity, but she dismissed them in her mind as being merely symptomatic of Charlotte’s curiously obsessive personality. However, she was genuinely pleased that Charlotte had found a woman so willingly indulgent to her whims, and that the couple were so very much in love.

“Have you brought Isabel?” Asked Josephine. “We were so happy for you when you said in your letters that you and she had declared your love for each other. Had you been lovers a long time before?”

Harriett nodded. “Yes,” she admitted. “For a long time, we denied our feelings. I’d never really thought I could ever be truly satisfied by a woman and Isabel had always believed that her sexual feelings for women were reserved for the camera. But then we realised that we were really and truly in love. It’s been like a revelation for me. I never believed I could ever really love someone as much as I love Isabel, even though she’s nearly ten years older than me!”

“Can we meet the lucky lady?” Asked Charlotte. “She is here, isn’t she?”

Harriett nodded, and escorted the three flatmates to the other bedroom where she discovered her chatting amiably with Fatima, and felt that horrid pang of jealousy that she’d always believed was alien to her and had become so much more frequent recently. Whenever she’d watched Isabel making love with other people, especially when not on the film set, she always found herself asking herself how genuine her passion was and whether it matched that which she expressed towards herself. She would look at disgust at the dribbles of semen down Isabel’s legs or on her breasts after she’d made love to one of her all too many male admirers. She even began to acknowledge that the sex that she performed so frequently for professional reasons might perhaps be compromising her love for Isabel, however much she told herself that it was not the same kind of passion at all.

“So, if I introduce you to Amna, you will at least consider her,” Fatima was saying to Isabel. “I assure you it won’t be wasted time. She’s performed in quite a few films now. Paki Fuckers. Oriental Bust Out. Asian Deep Cunt. And it’s not just her breasts that are enhanced. Her lips are nice and full. Her buttocks are really voluptuous and bouncy. And she’s keeping herself truly trim.”

“I promise you I will,” smiled Isabel. “But what I said is still true. As a policy I prefer not to deal with agents. I prefer to make my own decisions.” She looked up at Harriett and the other girls. “Well, you never told me that so many people in this flat were performers in the sex industry. Not only yourself, Susan, Emma and Josephine, as you told me about, but Fatima here’s an agent! I almost feel like I’ve not left the film set at all!” She wandered over to Harriett and pressing her enormous breasts against her chest, she leaned over as far as she could to kiss her on the mouth. “Don’t look so sad, dearest!” She remarked, clearly detecting Harriett’s discomfort. “Introduce me to your friends. Which one’s Charlotte: the bearer of such good news!”

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