Emma Watson's Casting Couch Ch. 02

It was an hour or so after Emma's amorous audition, and she raced towards her door, praying no one would see her. She sighed and groaned wearily, fairly falling into her apartment, struggling mightily to bury a spreading sense of shame and disgust with herself. Her legs were still shining with the girlcum that spangled them, and her makeup was fast becoming a FEMA-level disaster. The starlet shook her head miserably, starting to sit on a nearby crimson sofa, when a squelching sound emanated from her ass. A thick glob of cum oozed out and dripped into her still sopping pussy. Emma kept her feet and dug her nails into her palms, positively shaking with revulsion.

Emma's usually bright, brown, eyes stung horribly behind a veil of tears. Nothing in all her years of crusading work as a feminist had ever worn her out like this.

"What the fuck is wrong with me," she whispered to herself, staring dejectedly at her clean colored flats. "That wasn't acting. I was debasing myself, begging for dick like a fucking pornstar! It felt good! How the fuck does sexualizing women like that get me so fucking wet? God, I'm a disgrace. Fuck me! My pussy's still twitching from that shit. It wants more! Oh, God, I had to get away from there. I'm going to have to go back though. I have to do this. I must. How the hell do I play a whore without turning into one?"

Emma didn't have an answer for that so she slipped out of her dress and into a steamy shower. She sighed in relief when the water rushed over her, beading on her delicate skin, cooling it whenever the air crept in. The steam enveloped her like a protective blanket, carrying the lavender notes of her body wash to her nostrils. The constant wave massaged the tiredness out of her flesh, leaving it supple, pliant, and gently glowing.

Emma smiled contentedly, soaping her soft, perky, breasts, shivering delightedly at the lovely tickling sensation as her fingers danced over her nipples. It felt that all the nastiness of an hour ago, all the blowjobs and buttfucking, all the demeaning slurs were being washed away. All that was left was her, a woman pure and strong. The water vapor seemed to flush the starlet out and leave her feeling new. She took up a loofah and slid it down her subtle curves, humming tunefully to herself and savoring every sensation.

When the loofah slid over her puffy vulva, Emma shuddered as a spark of pleasure shot through her. She marvelled at how completely a little warm water changed her mood. Only moments ago she'd felt like a horrid wretch. Now, with the water cascading through her hair, she arrived at a bold revelation.

"Susana James always taught that sex isn't ugly. It isn't disgusting. It's nothing to be ashamed of. The only thing disgusting about sex is what men have done to it, turning it into a platform to parade and abuse women. She said we need to take our pleasure back and not be ashamed. I was horny, that's all. I still am. And I'm not going to be ashamed anymore. I'm going to enjoy it and get myself under control so I can make this movie.

So saying, the actress let her loofah fall and began humping her balmy pussy against her right hand. She whimpered contentedly as her left slipped up her side to clasp her left breast, gently kneadig and caressing the flesh.

"Shit, that feels good," Emma panted, brushing the heel of her hand against her clit.

She teased herself for a few minutes more, until she was purring beneath the shower spray like a kitten. Realizing she couldn't hold herself back any longer, Emma slid two fingers into her welcoming slit. The velvety walls took hold of them at once pulling and squeezing as the actress gave voice to a long, lewd, moan. Turning the shower knob to the left, for the water was growing cold, Emma began pumping in and out, savoring the cresting waves of pleasure.

"Yes! Oh, fuck yes, take those fingers," she hissed seductively, running her left hand down to her taut, flat, stomach. "I'm going to play with you, Emma," she told herself. "Goddamn, today was rough, and you deserve a little reward. You like those fingers don't you, girl? You feel so tight. Look how wet you are. Oh yeah, Emma Watson. Enjoy yourself! Moan as you feel those sensations move through you."

An electric wave of pleasure shot straight through Emma's frame, and she started stroking her swollen clit with her free hand. She began to pant heavily, struggling to prolong the experience, while her pussy was enthralling her with all its might. She saw the scenes from earlier that had grieved her so much in her mind's eye. But this time, her shame was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Emma saw a young woman enjoying herself, happily liberated from her own harsh judgments.

She was on all fours with her dress hiked around her waist. Her white, lace panties had been pulled down around her ankles. The back of her dress was open, her bra pushed up, and the pert tits it usually hid were being roughly groped by Mr. Peters. Brian was on his knees behind her, his tongue firmly locked in place. Emaa groaned with carnal hunger as she imagined her director's assistant forcing his long, flat tongue between her folds. The starlet bucked on her fingers, crying out beneath the water as she felt the blood rush to her nipples.

"Hell yes..." Emma shuddered as she watched the image playing in her mind.

Raw lust was coursing from the tips of her toes to each and every one of the hairs on her head. She started yanking her neatly trimmed cunt hairs and pinching her clit.

"Oh, fuck me..." Emma moaned loudly, drilling herself harder. "Oh, God, eat me...that's it. Slurp my fucking little cunt!"

In her mind, Brian was doing exactly that, while Mr. Peters groped her like a Japanese girl on a train. Emma decided her newest acquaintance needed to fuck her mouth. Next moment, she was watching herself inhale his seven inches, writhing with her lust.

"Take that cock, you little know-it-all bitch," Mr. Peters snarled. "Show me what you're good for, whore!"

Fairly howling into the spray, Emma couldn't help donning a wicked little smile. She adjusted her fantasy, adding a third finger to her sopping slit. Her hand was a blur when she saw the director's cock gain three inches and a bit of girth. She sucked eagerly, whorishly, forcing herself to choke and gag. She wanted every inch of that meat inside her with every fiber in her being.

"That's my darling, little, bitch," Mr. Peters chuckled at her enthusiasm, petting his head affectionately. "Jesus, Emma! That's what I'm talking about! Keep sucking me till I cum down that slender throat of yours! Please!" he begged fervently, trying to master his orgasm.

"You heard him, Emma," the star encouraged herself sluttily. "Give him your mouth, you sexy little trollop! How's that tongue feel buried in your snatch, just slurping your lips and flicking your clit? I'd bet you really appreciate it," Emma giggled, as her spasms began growing steadily stronger.

Juices poured liberally onto the floor of the bathtub. With a depraved squeal, the actress pictured the men putting her on her back.

"Time to fuck that slut," Brian intoned eagerly, pulling Emma on top of him and silkily slipping into her ass.

"Oh, God, yes!" Mr. Peters replied, sliding over her and slipping into her cunt.

"YES! FUCK HERMIONE HARD! GIVE HER THOSE FAT COCKS!" Emma screamed, devoured by lust. Immediately, she felt several violent jolts of pleasure in her pussy. "Make me your whore!" she groaned nastily as her cunt clamped down on her fingers. "Shoot up my fucking holes, you two! Fuck! I'm gonna cream soon! I need those cocks boys! Shit! I need them! Hermione wants your wands, boys. Give them to me!"

She squealed like a pig as her orgasm ripped through her like wildfire. In her mind, the pair of them pinched, sucked, and bit her tits as they drilled into her holes with zeal. They struck up a rhythm, moving in and out as one, so that both her tight, gripping holes were filled to capacity. The sweat cascading down their backs in buckets spoke to the ferocity of their efforts. In the wake of Emma's fierce aftershocks, they thoroughly coated her insides with bubbling baby batter.

"Jesus!" Emma gasped, collapsing to her knees. "What a hot fantasy. Susana was right. All the shit I was worried about, exploiting women, becoming a slut...I'm not doing any of that. I'm taking my pleasure back and using it to promote one of the greatest unsung feminist leaders ever. I'm so glad I took this shower. The serenity of it always provides clarity."

And with that, she turned the water off and toweled dry. Then she donned a clean tee shirt and panties, tucking herself in bed moments later.

It was far from the last time clouds of doubt rose to trouble Emma, but for a long time after, she indulged her desires. More than that, when she returned to Brian and Peters, she had a request for them: stop pretending the perversity was a burden to them and enjoy themselves as well. Both men were well trained in the ways of feminism, so it was slow going at first, but eventually, they acquiesced. At Emma's insistence, they scheduled a third casting session to go over Susana's days as a brothel worker.