Emma's Dilemma


"Well, now what are you going to do?" I asked.

Emma shrugged and pulled her knees up to her chest as if to hide behind them.

"You quit college," I reminded her. "Filming for the new flick doesn't start for a month. Lancome doesn't need you for several weeks. You can't just hibernate. You're Emma Watson, for God's sake."

"Can't I just take a break, Traci? I'm being pulled in too many directions," Emma whined.

"You're a frickin' movie queen, Emma. You can't take a break. If anything you need to be pushing harder."

She frowned and rested her chin on her knees. "Some friend YOU are," she said. "If I can't get pity from you, I'm doomed."

"Don't be so gloomy. Look for a positive."

"Like what?" she asked without hope.

I paused. "Well...what have you done lately about preparing for the day a producer says, 'There's a nude scene in this one.'? Now that you have some down time, you could work on that."

I had known Emma Watson for five years and was one of her closest friends. I believed she considered me one of the few people, outside her family, who could ask her that question. The look on her face convinced me she took it seriously.

"That doesn't sound like a positive to me," she moaned.

"You keep putting this off, Emma," I said. "You know as well as me that it's going to take breaking through that barrier to get to the next level in your career. If you want to keep doing movies, you're going to have to persuade producers and directors that you'll do it."

"That's just it," she said, stretching her legs out and rolling onto her side on the couch. "I don't want to 'do it' with them."

"I didn't say WITH them. I meant FOR them."

"Same thing," she replied.

Watching her on the couch was all it took to remind me what promise she had as a leading actress. With her short hair allowing the petite features of her face to shine through, and her ever-burgeoning body displaying more and more adult characteristics, she was quickly shedding the Hermione image.

I had always been attracted to her, primarily because of her personality and no-nonsense approach. But as she passed her eighteenth birthday, and was now into her twenties, the attraction was more mature. I was a couple years older and that may have allowed me to act like a big sister to Emma. Like a sister, she often either disagreed with me or ignored me. On this subject, however, she seemed eager to listen as long as she could still appear disgruntled.

"And just how do you propose I 'prepare' for THAT?" she asked in a pronounced English accent.

"I've been thinking about this," I said, leaning forward in my chair for emphasis. "I think it needs to be done in a group setting. I'm not sure it will help at all if you just got naked for somebody in a room with the door closed. You're going to have an entire crew around you on the movie set and just a few gazillion people watching in the theater. So you need to do this in front of people."

She stared at me blankly. "You mean an orgy?"

I laughed out loud. "No! No! No! Not necessarily an orgy. Just..."

"Not necessarily? What else do you call sex with a group of people, Traci?"

"Quit putting words in my mouth, Emma. I didn't say WITH. I said in front of."

"No you didn't," she answered sharply. "Anyway, you inferred an orgy."

"Don't get hung up on the terminology," I said. "It's the concept."

She rolled onto her back. "OK. I'm conceptualizing me getting naked in a room full of people. Some of them get naked, too. We begin to have sex...just for practice, of course. Some participate. Some watch. Now tell me that isn't a fucking orgy, Traci."

I tried to conceal my giggle. "That's career enhancement."

"And what if one of them is a girl?" she pondered.

I'm not really sure what made me get out of my chair. Maybe it was the picture we both had in our mind of the scene and I was just playing out a role. But I walked over to the couch, looked down, and then climbed on top of her.


I smiled. "What WOULD you do, Emma?"

"Die," she quickly replied.

"Not good."

"So, what would YOU do, Miss Know-It-All?"

"I'd think: 'This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with the sexiest actress in the world. If I don't take advantage of this I'll hate myself forever.'"

Emma glared back at me. "That sounds like what a typical dude would think. I expected better from a female."

Words weren't going to do it. It was time for action. I leaned down and planted my lips on hers before she could move. When she began to resist, I put my hands on either side of her face and held it in place while I intensified the kiss. Soon, our tongues met and even I was surprised by the passion displayed. For the next several seconds we were lost in each other.

When it was over, I said softly, "Was that better?"

"Oh my God, Traci. What happened?"

The sensation of her little body under me, our breasts touching and our pussies side-by-side, was becoming overwhelming. I didn't exactly intend for it to become sexual, but any more contact like the kiss and anything could happen.

"Practice, Emma. Practice. I think you, um, wouldn't have much trouble with, uh, another girl if it came down to it," I stammered.

"But we're not naked," she reminded me.

I looked at her. "Is that an invitation?"

"No!" she said loudly, pushing me with both arms. "Now get off!"

I laughed and rolled off the couch. Sitting on the floor, I said, "Well. What do you think? Should I arrange the party?"

"Would they know I was going to be there?" she asked.


I could see Emma's brain working hard. Her mouth twisted in a sign of anguish. "Oh, OK."

"Yea!" I cried out, getting up and hugging her.

Getting a dozen people to a party with Emma Watson was no problem. Getting them to promise to leave their cell phones or anything that took pictures in their cars was much more difficult. But I didn't need this all over the Internet and it was made clear it was the only way they could get in. I tried to guarantee them, without giving anything away, that it would be well worth the inconvenience.

I chose about ten guys and three or four girls that I thought Emma would like. She already knew half of them. So it was a good mix; as close to the situation on a movie set as I could pull off. And, if Emma wimped out at the end and nothing happened, it would still be a party. No big deal.

"What are you going to wear?" Emma asked me when the final plans were made and relayed to her.

"Nothing," I said.

"Damn it, Traci. I need to know."

"You're the big, high price fashion maven," I said. "You tell me. But don't make it too formal."

"OK. A blouse and pants it is," she sighed. "How boring."

"Don't wear a bra and show some skin. Remember what the goal is," I said.

"The goal, apparently, is for you to get your kicks at my expense. There better be some hot guys at this thing. I mean, an orgy with geeks is not going to endear me to you," she warned.

"You'll have your pick of beautiful men and women. A plethora of potential mates."

"I'm not sure there's enough alcohol to make me do this," she said.

"Ten years from now when your shelves are lined with Academy Awards, I hope you remember little Traci," I said.

The day of the party, I placed the odds of her having sex with anybody at no more than fifty-fifty. Having sex in front of a crowd was twenty five-seventy five. I only went as high as twenty five because it was all going to remain private. Having her walk out entirely was not out of the question.

"Damn," I uttered when she appeared at my door two hours before the party. "It's going to be a shame to see that outfit on the floor."

She wore a short sleeve, gold top that zipped down the front and stopped a couple inches above her very snug jeans. It was casual, stylish, and undeniably sexy. Her makeup was sparse, but she glowed as always.

I stared at the substantial opening created by the zipper being pulled down to the middle of her cleavage.

"I said 'show some skin', not 'show your tits'."

"There's nothing to show," she argued. "And make up your mind. Am I going to be a slut or not?"

We walked into the kitchen. "You're going to be the most sought after actress in Hollywood if you listen to me. I realize there's a thin line between that and a slut. But if you do this right, you'll be able to buy Hollywood when you're done."

"You mean when I'm too old to be a slut."

"Emma, quit it," I scolded her. "This is serious, and how many opportunities like this are you going to get to simulate what you're going to be asked to do on a set?"

"Daniel Radcliffe told me once that guys wear some kind of sock when they do love scenes," Emma said, crunching on a carrot stick. "That would be weird. 'Course, I doubt if he'd get hard anyway."

I grinned. "Did he ever try to, uh, do you?"

"Nope," she said. "He knew I would have laid him out flat with one punch if he tried it."


"Nope. Don't believe what you read," Emma said.

I picked up a long stick of celery and slowly slid it in and out of my mouth. "Not even..."

"You're sick, Traci."

Guests started trickling in a few hours later. All the food, snacks, and drinks were set. Before long, people were spread out through the condo in groups of two and three.

I paid particular attention to my friends Eric and Chris. They were not only two of the best looking guys in attendance, but also the two most likely to make a move on Emma. They were in their early twenties and former classmates of mine. They were freshmen when I was a senior and I acted as a mentor in some of their classes.

I knew from personal experience that Eric, especially, could make a woman cum several different ways. If Emma didn't have him, I hoped he wouldn't leave without at least a short trip to my bedroom.

Sure enough, I eventually saw a small group huddled in one corner that consisted of Emma, Eric, Chris and two others. The conversation seemed to be going well as I saw and heard Emma laughing several times. Each time I looked over she and Eric seemed to be closer to each other. My optimism grew and I expected Eric's wonderful cock was doing the same.

I let another twenty minutes pass before wandering over to join the co-ed cluster. I made eye contact with Emma and she assured me with her look that everything was fine. I was glad to hear that they were discussing everyday stuff and not just Emma's movies. I knew she tired of it all the time and her laughs signaled a comfort level with this group.

"I love those new shops in Clearview," Emma was saying. "But I practically have to go in a disguise to get in and out without a mob gathering."

"What IS it like to have every man, and half the women, look at you as a sex object?" my friend Marie asked.

"Half the women? You think?" Emma said with a chuckle. "I doubt that."

"She's right about the men, though," Chris countered, getting a laugh out of everybody.

Emma blushed. "I hardly think playing a nerdy little girl qualifies me as a sex object."

"You're definitely not a little girl anymore," Eric said. "What do you want to do next?"

I was afraid the change in subject to her career might cause Emma to retreat, but she didn't seem to mind.

"I want to be a super-model," she said with a straight face, but I knew she was kidding. "The next Twiggy. And for those of you too young to know about her, she was the first British superstar model. She looked like her name and had real short hair. Imagine that. She was sexy."

"Today they would call her sick," Marie said.

"So did she ever do nudes?" Chris asked.

"I don't think so," Emma said.

"Would you?" Eric said.

Emma turned her head and stared at him. During the ensuing silence, you could cut the tension with a knife. Then with a wry grin, she answered, "Depends on who the photographer is."

She said it with such a sexy voice that the only response from those around her was a muffled groan.

"I volunteer," Eric replied.

"Do you even know what an f-stop is?"

Eric thought for a second. "It's what you say when a dude starts groping you."

Everybody roared with laughter, including Emma. She put her arm around Eric in a sign of support and said, "I'm not sure you got the job."

"Maybe I'd do better at the groping part."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Somehow I believe that is true."

He twirled her around so that they were facing each other with their arms wrapped in a hug.

"Definitely not a nerdy little girl anymore," Eric said. "But you still know how to put a spell on guys. And I'm a firm believer that all leading ladies should do a nude scene."

"I think the only firm thing is between your legs," Emma said, to a chorus of snickers.

Eric looked down at her. "Imagine what it would be like if we saw you naked."

By now, some additional people mingled around, spurred on by the laughter and banter between Emma and Eric. The dark, handsome man held the actress tighter, allowing his hands to rest on the bare skin of her back just above her jeans. She would be the only one for now who could verify his firmness, but I suspected there was little doubt.

"You just might have to imagine it," Emma said.

"Ahhh, c'mon. Just a hint?"

Eric boldly took the zipper to Emma's top and pulled it down about an inch; far enough to reveal a good portion of the inside of her tits. When Emma didn't resist, he opened another inch. Now the zipper was below her breasts and he was more than halfway to the bottom.

"That's more than a hint," Emma said. After a pause, she added, "Well? Which way are you going to go with it?"

Eric would have never lived it down if he returned the zipper to its original spot. So with steady hands, he held Emma's top and pulled the zipper all the way down. To his surprise, the top came apart much easier that he expected.

The crowd was hushed, intently watching the couple just a few feet away from them in this open display of foreplay. There was still very little space separating Emma from Eric, but everybody could see her shirt as it hung open, barely covering her tits.

Eric was afraid to move. His hands rested on the top of her ass. Then Emma pulled him closer and put her lips on his. Instantly, they began a long, deep kiss. At that point I would have put all my money on Emma flashing a brief view of her tits and, perhaps, allowing Eric to touch them.

Emma had other plans.

Her hand slithered onto his crotch and rubbed Eric's plainly obvious erection through his jeans. Continuing to kiss, Eric finally moved his hands onto Emma's bare chest. Tentatively at first, and then more boldly, he wrapped his fingers around her tits. His big hands all but made her petite tits disappear inside his palms.

"Take off my top," she whispered into his ear.

Eric was temporarily stunned by the demand, but then took the shirt and pulled it down her arms. A murmur in the audience was a mixture of voices, sounds, and faint whistles of approval. Seeing Emma topless in this situation made me happy, proud of her, and extremely horny.

It must have worked for Eric because the outline of his stiff cock straining against his jeans caught the eye of every female, including Emma. She unbuttoned the top of his pants and squeezed her hand inside. Soon, she was grinning widely. We all watched her fingers manipulate the cock the best they could in the tight confines.

"Take it out!" a female voice rang out amid laughter and cheers. The people around me were now beyond the shock of seeing what they were seeing and wanted more.

"May I?" we heard Emma ask quietly.

"You better," Eric told her.

His zipper was pulled down and a pair of white briefs were visible. Emma held the pants open and put her thumbs inside the waistband of the underwear. In one quick motion, she had everything down far enough to reveal his thick, rigid penis. The room was filled with oohs and ahhs, similar to the sound I made the first time I ever saw Eric's cock.

Then Emma looked over at me and, to my surprise, said, "Well, are you going to help me or just stand there?"

I didn't know exactly what she meant by help, so I weaved my way around people to get to her. She was already on her way to her knees, so I got my answer. Sure, I'd be more than glad to help her if this is what she had in mind.

I joined her just as she was lowering his pants far enough for both of us to have free access to Eric's cock and balls. Emma put her hand around the shaft, then offered it to me. I eagerly put it in my palm and ran my tongue up and down the entire length. Soon, I had one side and Emma had the other. By now, the cock was rock hard and pointing at the ceiling.

It was difficult for me to decide what to watch: Eric's penis or Emma's tits. I suspect most of the crowd was with me and went for Emma's tits. They appeared bigger now as she leaned over. They swayed along with her body as she began taking Eric into her mouth and bobbing her head up and down. Between the cock and her tits, my pussy was turning into a throbbing, soaking mess. It desperately needed attention.

Help wasn't far away. Somebody in the room said loudly, "C'mon, Traci. Let's see some skin."

I told myself I was doing it for Emma's sake; to make her feel less insecure. But I pulled off my t-shirt and bra with such zeal that it undoubtedly gave away my ever-increasing lust. Then I returned to Eric's cock, which now leaked pre-cum from the tip thanks to Emma's great work.

It was obvious he could cum at any second. Was that what we wanted? Would it end there? The answer to both questions, in my mind, was 'No.'

I looked at Emma. "Do it," I said. "Do it now or you might never get another chance."

"Don't leave me," she said.

"I'll be here."

Emma's eyes rose to Eric's face. "Get on the couch," Emma said more calmly than I would have expected.

Eric walked the few steps over to the couch and took off his pants and shoes before lying down. He was naked except for a t-shirt. Emma was close behind him, but still had her jeans on. Every guest was congregated around the couch in a semi-circle, some looking down at Eric and his erection and some watching Emma.

It didn't take long for Emma to capture all eyes as she unsnapped her jeans, pulled down the zipper, and began pushing the pants down her legs. She looked incredibly sexy in her tiny panties as she wriggled out of the jeans. Then, as if nobody else was in the room, she removed the panties, too.

It probably took all of us a few seconds to realize we were actually staring at a nude Emma Watson. Her youthful breasts and ass were flawless. Her stomach was flat and hard; her thighs creamy and smooth. Then we saw her neatly trimmed pussy as she approached Eric. There wasn't a man, or woman, in the room that didn't want her to themselves.

But the honor would go to Eric and his cock was more than ready. First, however, he said to her, "Come up here so I can taste the famous Emma Watson."

She grinned and slid up the couch so her pussy was directly over Eric's mouth. He reached up with both hands and held her by the ass, gently pulling her down. The sight of his face slowly disappearing between Emma's legs caused another hush to fall over the room. From where I was standing, I could see his mouth open and his tongue come out. Then I heard a muted moan and saw Emma tilt her head backwards. Eventually, the indisputable sounds of Eric's mouth could be heard as it attacked her pussy and clit.

Eric's hands moved to her tits and he played with them roughly as the oral sex intensified. He had her nipples hard within seconds and rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers. She moaned louder and winced with each lick and pinch.

Emma reached behind her and found his cock. Blindly, she stroked it the best she could without letting Eric lose contact with her pussy.

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