A Model Mother Pt. 04
It was the afternoon following the bombshell of Shannon walking in on her future mother-in-law Emily masturbating with a beer bottle for a small group of men's pleasure - and her own - it clearly hadn't been just for their pleasure; Emily was very obviously enjoying herself when she'd been discovered.
Emily had asked if they could meet up in a pub not too far from either of them so she could explain herself. The fact that Shannon had agreed was a relief in itself.
Emily thought long and hard about how to dress for this meeting. She spent all morning at work coming at it from different angles, but she had no idea what Shannon was going to say or do. Finding out your fiancé's mother has a proclivity to expose herself and masturbate in front of strangers isn't a situation frequently encountered.
And, the thing was, Shannon didn't know the half of it. What would she say when she discovered that her future husband's mother was now a professional model who specialised in being photographed in all sorts of sexually explicit situations?
But that was nothing compared to the fact that Emily had sampled not only her brother's cock, but her father's too. Emily was going to have to tread very carefully. But she thought it would be hypocritical to dress all dowdy and cover up -- Shannon had already seen enough to make that a waste of time.
Shannon smiled politely upon arrival, which was a good sign. Emily wore a tight, short black dress, not as revealing as the red dress from yesterday, but still flattering and Shannon complimented her.
Shannon wore tight jeans and a vest t-shirt. She was lovely, a pretty face and a killer, toned young body. Emily mentally complimented her son on his taste.
"Listen, Shannon," she started. "About yesterday." Shannon listened in silence. She was going to give Emily a chance to talk. Emily glanced around. The pub was quite busy, it was popular with office workers taking lunch. Their table was far enough from any others that it was possible to talk without being overheard.
"So, I've been thinking about how I can possibly explain, and, the truth is," she paused, thinking of how best to word this. Shannon waited patiently for her to proceed.
"The truth is it was exactly what it looked like." Emily waited a moment for that to sink in -- both for Shannon and herself. She wasn't going to hide. If felt good.
"There's a lot I think I need to tell you. But firstly, last night. I was feeling lovely, really sexy. And when I walked into the pub, I just got a wicked feeling that I wanted to share. So, I did."
Shannon hadn't really known what to expect. Perhaps Emily might have been contrite, or ashamed, or have made up some bizarre story. But no. She simply explained that she'd been feeling horny, and so had fucked herself with a beer bottle in front of strangers in a bar.
She knew how she should react to this -- what her mother would feel, or most of her friends. But she wasn't sure what she actually did feel, now Emily laid it out in front of her.
"But there's a lot more I think you need to know, to understand where I am," Emily continued. "Let me get us a drink."
Emily told a mostly silent Shannon everything. The whole thing took over an hour, and they'd finished a bottle of wine and nearly a second by the time the tale was told.
Emily told all about how she'd felt like she'd missed out on so much as a young girl, how the guys buying dirty magazines from her shop had ignited a drive and desire that had been hitherto dormant in her. And how she'd spiralled from there, teasing and encouraging her customers to think of her as an object of desire.
Shannon had not expected this. The extent to which Stephen's mother had slid into a very seedy place was most unprecedented. When Emily described how she'd sought out and posed for a photographer, before ensuring the explicit pictures he'd taken were published and that her customers all saw them, her mind was blown a bit.
Until yesterday evening, Emily had been a figure of respect, someone to look up to, to impress. She knew that this esteem should now be replaced by disgust, but it wasn't that easy to just do a complete one-eighty in your opinion of someone.
Emily still had more to tell, and Shannon continued to struggle to understand what she was feeling about it all.
"So, what I did, last night. I have to admit it's not the first time I've done that sort of thing. I try to tell myself it's wrong, but the truth is I really love that sort of quick, illicit thrill. I had such an awful time when I was married, I've really got no inclination to repeat that. But I have a real, powerful need for physical release, for attention -- you know?"
Shannon was only nineteen. She'd had a few more encounters with men than she'd told Stephen about, and part of her did know. She felt a little spark of jealousy towards this pretty, older woman.
Last night Shannon had sat on top of Stephen and let herself picture the sight of his mother, so open, free and abandoned, on display as a sex object for those dirty old men in the pub. Until that time, when she was feeling Stephen's cock inside her, she'd not let herself admit it. But the sight of Emily doing what she did wouldn't leave her.
And she liked it.
Society judged things like this, it could ruin a woman to be seen as interested in anything out of the ordinary, sexually. She didn't know how to react, even now. Emily hadn't finished.
"So... I've had a couple of other encounters. But one in particular I need to tell you about. Please, please understand that I had no idea..."
Shannon looked confused. Where was this going now? Emily braced herself and emptied the wine equally into their glasses.
"So, it's against the backdrop of all this. Shannon, it all turns me on so much. I've got guys coming into my shop and buying pictures of me naked, playing with myself, all of that stuff. They are taking this stuff home, and, you know."
Emily considered her language and decided that there was no place for niceties.
"They are buying that stuff to wank to. So, there I am, selling all these men their ammunition, then they are off home to fire it over me." Emily eyed Shannon and was pleased to note that there was no shock or judgement visible, at least not yet.
"I don't know about you," she continued. "But Shannon, that is all just so exciting to me. And then," she again paused. Shannon found herself willing Emily to continue. Emily sighed. It seemed like there was something big she needed to get off her beautiful chest. What could be bigger than what she'd confessed already?
"So, one day I saw this letter that was sent into one of the magazines. It was obviously written by one of the guys who comes into the shop, about how he dreamed about me ordering him to... to masturbate in front of me. And then one night that guy came into the shop. It was nearly closing time, so..."
Shannon could feel Emily's excitement even now. She found herself breathing more quickly and nodded at her boyfriend's mother to continue.
"So, I just locked the door, dropped to my knees, pulled out my boobs and asked him to wank over me, to cover me."
"Jesus! Emily!"
It wasn't just what she'd done, it was the blatant pleasure she was taking as she relived it.
"I know!" Emily said, her tone contrite but her face alive. "One more bottle?"
Shannon nodded. Until this weekend, she'd not got to know her mother-in-law to be at all, really. Now she was, it was intriguing to say the least.
Shannon's own mother was so different. To her, sex was something that was done out of necessity. She would never indicate that she'd derived an ounce of pleasure from the act, and Shannon assumed the whole thing disgusted her. As happens so often with teenagers, this had pushed Shannon in the opposite direction.
So, it was it was hugely refreshing for Shannon to hear an older, experienced woman who just loved sex, plain and simple.
Despite the shocking, totally obscene and some would say immoral behaviour Emily was describing with a real sense of pride, Shannon couldn't help liking her. Watching her standing at the bar, that killer body clad in it's tight, figure-hugging black dress drawing admiring glances from men and women alike, she wondered whether it was fair to judge.
Shannon put herself in Emily's place. Who was to say how she'd behave if she was in the same position, suddenly realising her sexual freedom was there if she grasped it - and grabbing it so enthusiastically. She wasn't hurting anyone, was she?
However, this feeling was about to be tested. Emily had a steely expression as she topped up their glasses.
"So, Shannon. Please understand the situation. I was so horny; this guy had set my mind racing with his letter making it clear he dreamed about wanking on me. On my part, quite a lot of the time I was dreaming about guys wanking on me too. So, it seemed like the sensible thing to do."
The wine was very much relaxing her now, and Shannon laughed out loud at Emily's logic. Sensible wouldn't be how she'd describe this behaviour. But she wondered why Emily had this apologetic look fixed across her face. She was about to find out.
"So, the thing is, this guy, he signed off his letter 'R'. And then this lad turned up, and he was looking at me like, you know." Shannon nodded. She did know that look.
"And then I clocked his name badge. Richard, it said. R."
Emily left it there, planting the seed and seeing if it would register. It took a minute.
"Wait," Shannon said. "Richard? Not..."
Emily nodded, that apologetic expression almost turning into a grimace.
"I had no idea -- how could I? All I knew is that I was super horny, this guy had been writing letters about how much he wanted me to take control, show me how hard he got for me. It wasn't until yesterday that it registered who he was."
Shannon's jaw dropped. Emily decided to leave her there to digest what she'd just been told and went off to the toilet. She took her time in there, reasoning that the longer Shannon had to think about it, the more she might digest what she said -- or calm down, if she was really furious.
The wine might be affecting her as much as it is affecting me, she thought, squinting at her slightly blurred reflection as she adjusted her make-up.
Emily pondered her next actions. She'd only given Shannon half the story. Her brother Richard wanking off and shooting his virginal cock over Emily's exposed tits was one thing. There was no telling what her reaction to that would be, but she would find out soon.
But the knowledge that Emily had sucked Shannon's father's cock just a few days earlier and swallowed his cum... that one she'd keep to herself, at least for the time being.
As it was, there was a chance that she'd let slip a secret that Shannon might feel obliged to divulge. And if it came out, who knows what the consequences could be -- maybe it would change Shannon's mind about the marriage -- what kind of family was she joining? Emily hoped that would all be OK, she thought Shannon would be a fantastic addition to the family.
With some trepidation she approached the table. She was pleased to find Shannon still present -- she'd worried that she might have used that opportunity to make her exit. She was chatting to a young man who worked there. His name badge said 'Graham'.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to it," he said. Emily was gratified to see his eyes lingered equally on her as much as her younger companion, and she flashed him a smile to let him know that he was very welcome to look her up and down.
"I went to school with Graham," Shannon explained. "He used to have a proper crush on me, back then."
"Who can blame him," Emily smiled. She sat down and picked up her glass. She fixed her gaze on her son's girlfriend deliberately neglecting to show any shame in what she'd done.
Emily made it very clear that she had no idea who Richard was, and that she'd found herself doing that sort of thing a lot recently. It was not her fault that the guy who wanked on her happened to be Shannon's brother.
"That was a bit of a bombshell. You're making a habit of hitting me with those recently, aren't you?" Shannon began. Her blank expression didn't give anything away. "If you aren't shoving beer bottles inside yourself in the pub, you're letting my brother wank over you!"
The tone told Emily she was OK, and she took a breath.
"I always knew he was a little wanker!" Shannon burst into laughter and Emily realised that she was as drunk as her future mother-in-law. "So, was he really writing letters into dirty magazines about how much he fancied you?"
"Well, no, as it happens. It turned out there was another young customer I had whose name begins with 'R' -- Ryan."
"Right. So... are you saying you let my brother wank over you by mistake?"
"I guess I am!" Both girls collapsed into fits of laughter, taking a full minute before they could continue the conversation. They drew glances from the other patrons of the bar, but they didn't care.
"Do you know the funniest thing though?" Emily continued, wiping her eyes. "Ryan, he actually came in the very next day."
"Oh, the poor thing! Did you tell him that someone else stole his fantasy?"
"Well, I didn't think it fair for him to miss out, so I let him have a little go too..." She winked at Shannon, who felt a little wave of heat wash over her. Emily had received the loads of two young men over her breasts in twenty-four hours. And she was glowing with pride at something few women would ever even think of doing, less so admit it so easily.
Shannon had not expected this, but she was finding the thought of this beautiful, shameless woman exposing herself and turning on half the men in town increasingly arousing.
"Please just tell me Richard knows it's not going to happen again?"
"Oh god no!" Emily lied. "As soon as I realised, I made sure he was on the same page. It was a mistake and could never happen again."
In actual fact Emily had told Richard that if he kept quiet and behaved himself, there was a chance of a repeat performance in future. She'd decided this was the best approach and kept Richard under control, which might prove useful given the delicate situation she was in.
"No harm done then. Emily, I have to say. Last night, when I saw you like that. You could probably tell I was more than a bit shocked. I trouble sleeping, I couldn't get the image out of my head. But I've thought about it, and everything else you've told me tonight, and I really don't have a problem with it."
"Oh, that's really nice of you to say, Shannon," Emily smiled warmly. "Listen, I know most wouldn't be quite as understanding as you. Your mum, for example..." Emily recalled the battleaxe from the party and shuddered at the thought of having to explain away her having encouraged her son to masturbate over Emily's exposed breasts. And as for her husband, whose sperm she could still almost feel gushing into the back of her throat...
"Oh shit! As if I'd tell her anything like that! Mum is... I guess she's the total opposite to you, in that regard. She wouldn't understand that at all. I can wholeheartedly guarantee that she will never find out from me."
Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Shannon was, if not quite approving, almost ambivalent to the knowledge that her future mother-in-law enjoyed exposing herself to strangers. She'd taken the news of what Emily had done with her brother better than anyone could possibly expect.
"But there is one big issue I have with it all," Shannon said, trying to pull her thoughts together through an increasing alcohol fuelled haze. "Stephen, your son, he's soon to be my husband. I can't see any possible way I can keep this secret, whilst still being able to say my vows with a straight face. Are you... do you plan to stop it, all of this stuff?"
Emily sipped from her wine and looked at Shannon closely before answering.
"Absolutely not. I'm still doing my shoots every Saturday. I just know I'll regret it, if I back away now. My looks aren't going to last forever, so I want to make sure I do everything I can possibly do, whilst I have the chance."
"So, what are you going to do about Stephen then?"
Emily didn't know. She'd very successfully blanked out any responsible thoughts for some time now, and she almost resented being forced to consider such things. But deep down she knew Shannon was right.
"I really have no idea," she shrugged. "You are spot on, of course you are. I've been enjoying myself so much recently. But I do need to think about him. What do you think?"
Shannon was a little taken aback. Being asked for her opinion, her advice, on a subject like this was bizarre to say the least. But it did endear her to Emily even more. Although she was much older, the childlike innocence in Emily's attitude betrayed her young years spent trapped at home, dreaming of the day when she could focus on her own happiness.
Now she was there, Shannon didn't have the heart to burst her bubble. She still had the vision burned into her memory of Emily totally surrendered to base desire. She'd sought out, exposed herself to, and masturbated in front of a group of strange men.
Who does that? She kept asking herself. But part of her knew that, in another world, in another time, the idea of just spreading out and feeling the eyes of random men feasting on her body was a feeling she'd be very keen on experiencing. In some ways, Emily was living the dream.
That Emily was doing what she was doing was nothing more than incredible. Shannon knew there would be recriminations. But she wasn't going to be the one to pull the rug.
"I don't know. Let me have a think about it -- you think about it too. Listen, I'm going to have to go now. If I have any more to drink, I'm not going to make it home! It's been nice getting to know you better Emily. I'll maybe pop in your shop later in the week, OK?"
The girls shared an embrace and Shannon trotted off, lots to think about. As she left, Emily noticed most of the male heads in the room turn to glimpse that superb backside, squeezed into her jeans. That included Graham, the young barman who clearly hadn't completely shaken his teenage crush on Shannon.
Emily was drunk, there was no other way to put it. She was bad enough when sober, but now her libido was in overdrive. Shannon's acceptance of her antics was nice. It meant a lot, and it was quite a relief -- that could have gone much worse. She felt a little unshackled, the alcohol intensifying this feeling.
Her eye caught Graham's, and she held up her empty glass.
"Another?" he asked politely, taking her glass. Emily held on to it for a split second, causing him to lurch toward her slightly.
"I've not decided yet," she mused, very aware that she might be approaching the stage when her words might slur. "Graham, is that right?"
"Yes. Sorry, you are Shannon's friend?"
"Emily," Emily said. She was going for mysterious, but not quite managing it. "You've not seen me then? I mean, you've not seen me before?"
"No, should I have?"
Emily was getting used to people recognising her. She liked that, but it was nice that Graham didn't, in a way. She could surprise him. He was quite tall and well built. Her eyes flicked to his crotch, as she'd found they did more and more these days when she met a man.
"No, no, not at all. Anyway, Shannon tells me you used to have a thing for her -- I hope you haven't still got designs on her? She's marrying my son, you know."
"Oh really? She didn't say. So, you'll be her mother-in-law?"
"I will."
"You don't look old enough!" It was a throwaway, standard line in this situation and Emily knew it. But she flashed a smile at him all the same.
"Flattery will get you anywhere," she winked. Graham looked Emily up and down. Despite being clearly the worse for wear, she was an amazing looking woman. And she appeared to be flirting with him. The fact she was close to the lovely Shannon was an added bonus.
"So, did you want another?" he asked.
"I'm afraid that one more might be a bad idea. And drinking alone is never a good thing. Unless you want to join me?"
"Well, I do get off at seven..." Emily glanced up at the clock. It was quarter-to.
"Now we're talking. And if you get off at seven, when do I get off?" The words came so easily and causally, Graham questioned whether he'd heard her right.
Emily watched the young man clearing tables and thanked him as he brought her the glass of water she'd sensibly decided on. Graham replayed their conversation as he worked. Surely, he'd misinterpreted what she meant. 'When do I get off'. What else could that mean, outside of the obvious?
Each time he glanced over she smiled. Was this really happening? This stunningly attractive woman was waiting for his shift to finish, and she was very obviously flirting with him.
Graham didn't want to drink in the place he worked, so they moved next-door to the Irish bar. Emily had an orange juice, she was pulling herself back from the edge and feeling a bit more in control. Graham had a pint.
"I bet you do this all the time, do you? Seduce your customers during your shift?"
Graham spluttered.
"Hardly! If anyone is seducing anyone here, it's you!"
"Oh really? I'm sure I'm much too old for you. I saw the way you looked at Shannon's arse as she left earlier."
"No!"
"Yes!" Emily laughed. Graham's face said 'busted'.
"It's fine! There wasn't a man in that place didn't look at her arse. It's a really nice arse, you'd be mad not to look. I couldn't take my eyes off it. But do me a favour, take a good look at mine and tell me how it compares." She stood and walked slowly towards the toilet. She very deliberately let her skirt ride up just enough for the interested observer to make out her stocking tops.
Graham couldn't believe what was happening. Just as every male eye in the room had to check out Shannon's perfect rear in her tight jeans, so all eyes were glued to his companion's amazing backside. It was at least Shannon's equal, even if it was twenty years older.
Emily looked back over her shoulder and winked at the young man with his eyes glued to her stunning rear view.
The front view, as she returned, was even better, if that was possible. The tight material of her dress accentuated breasts which jostled for attention, begged to be squeezed. Emily's nipples were very visible, standing proud and making it clear there was no bra underneath.
"Well?" Emily prompted as she sat down, reminding Graham that he wasn't dreaming, and this was actually happening.
"Amazing!" he replied immediately. "Yes, just as good as Shannon's."
"Correct answer," she smiled. Graham had nearly finished his pint, and she glanced at the clock.
"So, let's just lay it all out there, shall we? As you can probably tell, I'm drunk and horny." Graham gulped and nodded. "If you are willing, then you are more than welcome to take advantage of that. I'm a very open and sexual woman, and you'll find I'm very happy to do a lot of the things I hope you want to do to me."
Graham drained his pint. The alcohol had just started to embolden him, and this stunning woman was putting herself on a plate. He felt the need to appear more confident than he actually was.
"Like what?" he said, imagining what Harrison Ford or Tom Cruise might say in this situation. Emily saw what he was doing and humoured him. She liked his style.
"Have you got a girlfriend Graham?"
"No, not right now. I have though, before, I mean I'm not a..."
"Virgin?" Emily knew he wasn't already, she could tell. She wouldn't have minded if he was -- she didn't really care. "What did she like to do? Your girlfriend. Did she like to suck your cock?"
Graham flushed red. Harrison Ford definitely wouldn't have done that.
"No, no. I mean, yes, she did it, a couple of times. But I always had to persuade her."
"Really? You won't have to persuade me, Graham. I'm going to suck your cock as much as you like. But first I'd like you to see me naked. You can feel my body, kiss it, all over. What was her name, your girlfriend?"
"Lianne."
"Did Lianne like showing off for you? Wearing sexy underwear, and giving you little flashes when you were out?" As she spoke, she slowly pulled down the stretchy material of her top. Both nipples jumped free, proving that she was indeed braless.
They sat in silence for around thirty seconds, Emily's full breasts resting attractively on the table. The girl coming around the corner probably caught a glimpse of her little display; she pulled her top up but not urgently. Emily didn't care and smiled at her as she passed.
That act of blatant exhibitionism made everything suddenly very real for Graham. Until then, he'd felt like it was too good to be true, Emily would sober up and decide against it, or something would crop up and change everything. But those exposed breasts were the green flag. He wanted to grab them, maul them, suck those inviting nipples.
Emily saw the change in Graham's demeanour. Her hand snaked up his leg and the solid evidence of his arousal confirmed it. They were both ready.
A suitable venue was needed. Luckily Emily's shop, which was seeing more sexual encounters than many bedrooms recently, was just around the corner.
Graham's head was between Emily's legs before they had even kissed, she'd hoisted herself onto her counter and spread her legs as soon as the door had closed behind them. Graham was doing an excellent job down there, she thought. His tongue felt surprisingly firm when it delved inside her, and very gentle and pleasant as it flicked around her clit.
She was in no rush. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched him lovingly and diligently attending to her hungry cunt. She realised he was only the second man, after Pavel, to do this.
With Pavel, it had always been a starter before the main course, which was a fuck. Emily felt an incredible desire to tell him to stop. She was more than ready to feel Graham's hard cock inside her.
Full, penetrative sex was something she'd drawn a line with though. There were multiple reasons, one being that she had no form of contraception. Stephen was enough of a responsibility for her and she had no desire to parent again
And in the early nineties, AIDS adverts loomed from bus stop adverts, and each break in a TV show reminded of the drastic consequences liaisons just like this one could bring.
Condoms would negate both of these concerns, sure. But this wasn't the real reason for her reluctance. The day she'd allowed Mike, her dearly departed husband, to slide his unimpressive cock inside her, had marked the start of twenty years of toil, boredom, claustrophobia and drudgery.
A man, especially a young, inexperienced one such as Graham, was very likely to form an attachment with a woman who allowed him to fuck her. She'd seen it many times. All of her friend's marriages had started out like that. It was almost as if, once mated, a male bonds for life. That bond was something Emily had no interest in.
Of course, she knew this was ridiculous -- men were constantly fucking anything that moved, having affairs, visiting prostitutes. But for whatever reason Emily had come to equate sexual intercourse with subjugation. Which was a shame, because her urge to feel hard, warm male meat inside her increased by the day.
And so, her session with Graham, whilst extremely exciting and fulfilling, did not include intercourse. Not that he cared in the slightest. Graham marvelled at the abandon Emily displayed as she essentially brought herself to climax on his face, her shaven cunt grinding against him, a reward for some excellent work with his tongue.
Emily pulled his face against hers, tasting her juice which was smeared all over his chin and cheeks without hesitation. Graham contrasted this with Lianne, who had insisted he go and wash his face before kissing her on the odd occasion he'd been down there.
But the real reward came as Emily dropped to her knees and began what he'd later picture as a ritual of worship on his cock. To say she was invested in the task of sucking him off was more than an understatement. From the moment he slipped his work trousers down and freed his penis, desperate for attention, she was obsessed with it
The rest of his body was irrelevant to her now. All she wanted was this cock, and her scarlet lips slipped around it and slid down the shaft, her eyes rolling back in her head as she savoured the feeling of hard meat at the back of her throat.
After only thirty seconds or so he had to physically restrain her for a short period to prevent things finishing unceremoniously. But, somehow, he managed to get a grip and keep the arousal at a level where he was taking huge pleasure, without overstepping the mark and shooting a load which had been building since Emily first winked at him before he finished his shift.
It was a challenge. Emily's skills were amazing. The way her eyes never left his. The way her hands cupped his balls as she pulled his shaft lovingly, holding his glans in her mouth. The way her tongue flicked around the head, then all the way up and down his whole stiff length.
As she detected he was unlikely to be able to continue much longer, Emily broke free and stood, slipping out of her dress and panties. A lot of thick saliva slid down her face and hung from her chin. Smiling sweetly at Graham in just her suspenders and stockings, she lay down on the floor, encouraging his hands to wander. She took his hand and guided it in between her legs, and he fingered the wet mess his tongue had created.
Pulling him closer by his cock, she looked into her eyes lovingly.
"Did Lianne let you cum in her mouth? Or in her face? You can do whatever you want to me," Emily smiled at him. The sight of this slut spread out in front of him, encouraging him to ejaculate wherever he liked, prompted exactly what Emily meant it to.
Graham joined the growing number of men for whom sex became almost spoiled. After experiencing Emily, nothing else would ever compare. He watched on as she wanked his dick into her face. She made sure the whole load covered her forehead and, when all was spent, smiled up at him, knowing the sight of his semen sliding down her nose and cheeks, forming little dangling drips and falling onto her cleavage, would give him memories to last a lifetime.
"I bet Lianne never did this, right?" she giggled, before lying back and spreading her legs for him again.
Graham just stood there, shellshocked. The one time Lianne had deigned to bring him to climax in this way, the culmination was her aiming away from her body at the crucial moment, so that he watched his sperm landing harmlessly on a pillow which his girlfriend immediately hurried off into the bathroom to clean up.
Emily's reaction was much more gratifying. Even though he knew he wasn't special to Emily, he felt it anyway. Seeing her so aroused and happy to be covered in Graham's sticky mess, that wasn't fake. She truly loved it. She loved sex, loved cock. And he was providing it for her, so in the moment he still felt pretty damn good.
Graham's cock was still mostly erect. He wasn't sure if he was meant to just thank Emily and leave now, or if there was another accepted behaviour in this situation. Emily stood and he watched in confusion as she pulled down a magazine from the top shelf and handed it to him.
'Wet and Open'. It was a dirty magazine. Unlike most boys of his age, Graham didn't have a cache of pornography under his bed. He wasn't against it, as such, but he'd never felt the need to supplement his imagination, which was very vivid.
So, he was confused as to why Emily had handed him this magazine. But all became clear when she flipped it open to the centrefold. Emily's face smiled out at them, a dildo glistening with her juices in one hand and her pussy spread wide open, nothing left to the imagination.
"Oh shit! That's you!"
Emily didn't reply, just smiled and let him leaf through the images of her stripping off and fucking herself with a dildo.
Graham could only stare at the magazine, back at the stunning Emily, and then back to the lurid pictures. He felt like he'd entered an alternate reality. This couldn't be real, could it? Just the fact that a woman like Emily had picked him was unbelievable enough. But here she was, proudly flaunting her body across the pages of a magazine which she was selling in her own shop.
Emily grinned as he struggled to comprehend. This was a situation she adored. On a daily basis she watched guys flicking through the pages and appreciating her body. The tease was amazing, the knowledge that every one of these men would be getting all hard and worked up and wanking themselves off over her. The thought was always a fantastic one.
Sometimes though, she needed more.
"What do you think?" she said. Graham had no words. The fact that his cock hadn't subsided at all, despite the great job he'd done of emptying his balls all over her, told Emily that he still had more for her.
"I know what you're thinking," she breathed, leaning back on one elbow so that she could present her juicy cunt to him again. "What kind of girl does something like that?" she nodded to the magazine where the alternative Emily was as available as the real one in front of Graham.
"What kind of girl sells herself to strangers, every day? Gives them advice, tells them where to find the dirtiest pictures of her? What kind of girl picks up guys, sucks their dicks and lets them cum all over her?"
Emily was pushing two fingers up inside herself now. Graham couldn't help but grab his cock again.
"Oh, fuck yeah, that's it. I want to watch you wank over me. That's what I need, that's what I love. It's what I was put on this earth for, to be fucking wanked over by all you dirty guys with your lovely hard cocks!"
Graham kneeled down between Emily's open knees. Emily saw his cock, the head bobbing up and down as he masturbated for her, only inches from her soaking cunt. She reached down and stretched her labia wide, as far as she could. Graham couldn't have a more open invitation.
If he'd simply leaned forward and eased inside her at that moment, she would have been powerless to resist. A large part of her was willing him to do it, to take away the self-inflicted barrier she'd erected. To shut up the doubt and the worry and just fuck her.
Somehow Emily's last semblance of sense told her this couldn't happen, and her fingers found her way inside herself again -- both to inflict a pleasure enhanced by the brief anticipation of a penis inside her, and to block access to the cock which was so close to entering her.
"Ohhh, fuck!" she moaned. "Christ, I need a good fucking so much. But I can't! You'd love it, wouldn't you? Ramming that lovely hard cock right inside this soaking little hole?"
Graham was confused, but the sights and sounds in front of him would be relived every day for the rest of his life. He felt like perhaps he should fuck Emily, but on the other hand maybe he shouldn't. It seemed like he's missed his opportunity, as she was very much attached to her fingers now.
Any thoughts of penetrating this beauty were now moot. Emily's excruciatingly horny display had him shooting a much smaller load onto her stomach. The feeling of more sperm landing on her brought her back from whatever disgusting place she'd been, and she smiled thankfully up at him.
Once she'd spent a few minutes cleaning him up and ensuring every little drip of cum was greedily sucked out of his softening shaft, she sent him on his way, as usual with strict instructions not to expect a repeat performance (unless Emily decided otherwise).
She didn't have a jacket, so she simply pulled her stretchy dress back on, leaving Graham's sperm adorning her face. Little drips kept landing on the black material as she walked home. She was slightly disappointed that she didn't pass anyone. Part of her would have loved to bump into someone she knew and have to explain why she was walking home dressed like a whore, with sperm all over her face.
Wednesday was delivery day again. Emily looked forward to it more than anything, but this one proved to be the best yet. Vikesh arrived at opening time. Emily let him in.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out? Why didn't you tell me?" His face had no animosity. Emily guessed he'd discovered about her new modelling career, but feigned innocence.
"What?" she said airily.
Vikesh slapped a magazine down on the counter. On the cover of 'Park Lane', unmistakable, was the face of Emily, smiling out at the world.
"Oh!" Emily was speechless, but not from any place of shame or embarrassment. Her knees almost buckled and she stopped breathing entirely, her heart pounding so that her breasts felt like they were visibly shaking.
"I..." She gathered herself, her intense tremor of excitement turning quickly into an intense surge of arousal. "I don't see why I have to tell you everything I do."
Vikesh laughed loudly.
"Fucking hell Emily! I never would have guessed it. Here you are selling all my dirty magazines, and at the same time you are also modelling for them too. What the fuck! How long has this been going on for?"
"A little while," Emily shrugged. She spun the magazine around to examine it closer. The shot was from above, she was topless and her deep green eyes were staring directly into the camera. Her nipples were concealed only by two fingers of each hand, which were also squashing her flawless tits together and creating a cleavage which cried out to be appreciated.
"I'm guessing you didn't write the quote there," Vikesh prompted, pointing to the words emblazoned below the image:
'Shoot on these! Covergirl Emily gives you some target practice inside!'
This plunged her right back into a barely functioning state for a minute, her eyes involuntarily closing as a surge of almost electrical lust streaked up her spine to her brain.
Alan had warned that her pictures would be accompanied by lurid quotes and comments -- this was something she'd had to sign a waiver to, allowing them to put anything they wanted beside her images. But, if she could have chosen, she would have come up with something just like this herself.
"No, I didn't," she agreed.
"And you let them use your real name?!"
"Sure, why not?" She genuinely had no desire to try to hide her identity and had happily told Alan that she'd have no problem with her real name and town of residence accompanying her pictures. "Hey, Vikesh, I think this is going to be a popular one -- can I get some extra copies?"
Vikesh eyed her curiously.
"Sure, I've got a dozen or so in the van, I'll bring them in."
"Can you put in an order for some more please? I think probably fifty should do it," Emily smiled. She knew this was going to fly off the shelves, and she did not want to be in a position where she could not meet demand.
Vikesh had to do his rounds, but left three stacks of magazines for Emily, wondering again out loud at Emily's new career choice. As soon as he left the shop, Emily had her butt plug firmly inserted, and her butterfly strapped on securely. Setting the buzzing away at a low two out of seven, she opened up 'Park Lane'.
Not only was she the cover girl, she was also the centrefold. Emily remembered this shoot -- she was dressed in virginal white underwear, and the first shot was the only one that could remotely be termed 'decent'. Her breasts were out and her knickers around her knees by the second shot. She spread her legs and masturbated for the camera, slipping two fingers inside herself and massaging her clit.
The centre spread featured her lying back in a chair, each leg splayed across an arm so that she was completely open for inspection. Her face was a picture of happiness, and her cunt was stretched wide, two fingers holding her labia apart.
She'd not opened the shop yet, so allowed herself to push the vibrator strapped under her floaty summer dress to four, then five. She flicked back to the cover, then back inside to her set, reading the little text box on the first page:
"Emily can't get enough of guys wanking over her, she tells us. 'I just love it when a cock erupts, shooting spunk everywhere! I love the feel of warm cum splashing on my skin and the taste in my mouth. I love knowing that all your randy readers are going to be wanking over me, it's just a shame I can't be there to watch all that lovely jizz firing over my pictures from all of those lovely hard cocks!'"
She didn't write it, but if she had, these words would have been exactly what she'd want to accompany her pictures. An orgasm washed over her, and she leaned onto the counter to apply a little more pressure to the vibrator which she'd cranked up to the maximum, seven.
Allowing herself a minute to recover from the amazing orgasm, she set about arranging the delivery on the top shelves. 'Park Lane', as one of the more explicit magazines she sold, was usually one which was tucked away, mostly out of sight on the back row, with another magazine in front of it. This month, she gave it pride of place on the next row down, right at the edge closest to the door.
All the pervs, and maybe lots of others who took a glance up there when they entered, would see her immediately. If the topless shot and her inviting expression wasn't enough, the invitation: 'Shoot on These!' was the icing on the cake.
"Shoot on these!" she said it out loud. In the whirlwind of the past few months, sometimes it took a moment to stand still and really appreciate what was happening to get real perspective on everything. Emily was busy putting a magazine on display featuring herself proudly topless on the cover, inviting men to masturbate and ejaculate over her.
Inside, she stripped off completely naked and ensured the camera captured the sight of her posing, masturbating and stretching wide open, ensuring every inch of her body could be appreciated. Accompanying the pictures were very explicit quotes where she described how much she loved tasting and feeling men's sperm on her body and in her mouth.
And the best part was, it was true! Every word. But this seemed like a landmark moment. Did she dare to advertise herself as a 'wank target', as she liked to think of it, in such a prominent position in her shop? Family and friends might see her on display and discover that Emily liked to invite men to wank over her. This was probably a bit too much.
But, she told herself, it was too late now anyway. No matter what she did here in her own shop, she was on sale over the whole country, inviting everyone to use her as target practice.
Nevertheless, this was pushing things right to the limit of her comfort zone. But after twice losing her nerve and stacking the bundle of copies in a less conspicuous location, she found herself talking herself back into it, and finally decided that there was no fighting the part of her who needed to be exposed so desperately.
The day was amazing. Once the morning rush was over, as usual on a delivery Wednesday most of her callers were the pervs. And she revelled in the reaction as each one of them realised what was going on.
"Yes, it's me," she smiled, adopting a 'well what can you do?' attitude on the outside, but feeling her knickers flooding as the magazine was picked up and her pictures perused. Every man who came into her shop that day bought a copy.
She offered no explanation, no mitigating circumstances for the invitation which was blatantly roaring out from the cover, her wink and knowing smile with every copy sold completely endorsing those words.
She wanted to be wanked over. She loved the feel and the taste of cum. It was there in black and white for the world to read and appreciate.
Throughout her life Emily had gone through a few roles. Wife, Mother, shopkeeper. But now, if anyone asked her what she did, she'd say it loud and proud. She was a model. An adult model. A porn star.
A slut, and proud of it...
Emily had asked if they could meet up in a pub not too far from either of them so she could explain herself. The fact that Shannon had agreed was a relief in itself.
Emily thought long and hard about how to dress for this meeting. She spent all morning at work coming at it from different angles, but she had no idea what Shannon was going to say or do. Finding out your fiancé's mother has a proclivity to expose herself and masturbate in front of strangers isn't a situation frequently encountered.
And, the thing was, Shannon didn't know the half of it. What would she say when she discovered that her future husband's mother was now a professional model who specialised in being photographed in all sorts of sexually explicit situations?
But that was nothing compared to the fact that Emily had sampled not only her brother's cock, but her father's too. Emily was going to have to tread very carefully. But she thought it would be hypocritical to dress all dowdy and cover up -- Shannon had already seen enough to make that a waste of time.
Shannon smiled politely upon arrival, which was a good sign. Emily wore a tight, short black dress, not as revealing as the red dress from yesterday, but still flattering and Shannon complimented her.
Shannon wore tight jeans and a vest t-shirt. She was lovely, a pretty face and a killer, toned young body. Emily mentally complimented her son on his taste.
"Listen, Shannon," she started. "About yesterday." Shannon listened in silence. She was going to give Emily a chance to talk. Emily glanced around. The pub was quite busy, it was popular with office workers taking lunch. Their table was far enough from any others that it was possible to talk without being overheard.
"So, I've been thinking about how I can possibly explain, and, the truth is," she paused, thinking of how best to word this. Shannon waited patiently for her to proceed.
"The truth is it was exactly what it looked like." Emily waited a moment for that to sink in -- both for Shannon and herself. She wasn't going to hide. If felt good.
"There's a lot I think I need to tell you. But firstly, last night. I was feeling lovely, really sexy. And when I walked into the pub, I just got a wicked feeling that I wanted to share. So, I did."
Shannon hadn't really known what to expect. Perhaps Emily might have been contrite, or ashamed, or have made up some bizarre story. But no. She simply explained that she'd been feeling horny, and so had fucked herself with a beer bottle in front of strangers in a bar.
She knew how she should react to this -- what her mother would feel, or most of her friends. But she wasn't sure what she actually did feel, now Emily laid it out in front of her.
"But there's a lot more I think you need to know, to understand where I am," Emily continued. "Let me get us a drink."
Emily told a mostly silent Shannon everything. The whole thing took over an hour, and they'd finished a bottle of wine and nearly a second by the time the tale was told.
Emily told all about how she'd felt like she'd missed out on so much as a young girl, how the guys buying dirty magazines from her shop had ignited a drive and desire that had been hitherto dormant in her. And how she'd spiralled from there, teasing and encouraging her customers to think of her as an object of desire.
Shannon had not expected this. The extent to which Stephen's mother had slid into a very seedy place was most unprecedented. When Emily described how she'd sought out and posed for a photographer, before ensuring the explicit pictures he'd taken were published and that her customers all saw them, her mind was blown a bit.
Until yesterday evening, Emily had been a figure of respect, someone to look up to, to impress. She knew that this esteem should now be replaced by disgust, but it wasn't that easy to just do a complete one-eighty in your opinion of someone.
Emily still had more to tell, and Shannon continued to struggle to understand what she was feeling about it all.
"So, what I did, last night. I have to admit it's not the first time I've done that sort of thing. I try to tell myself it's wrong, but the truth is I really love that sort of quick, illicit thrill. I had such an awful time when I was married, I've really got no inclination to repeat that. But I have a real, powerful need for physical release, for attention -- you know?"
Shannon was only nineteen. She'd had a few more encounters with men than she'd told Stephen about, and part of her did know. She felt a little spark of jealousy towards this pretty, older woman.
Last night Shannon had sat on top of Stephen and let herself picture the sight of his mother, so open, free and abandoned, on display as a sex object for those dirty old men in the pub. Until that time, when she was feeling Stephen's cock inside her, she'd not let herself admit it. But the sight of Emily doing what she did wouldn't leave her.
And she liked it.
Society judged things like this, it could ruin a woman to be seen as interested in anything out of the ordinary, sexually. She didn't know how to react, even now. Emily hadn't finished.
"So... I've had a couple of other encounters. But one in particular I need to tell you about. Please, please understand that I had no idea..."
Shannon looked confused. Where was this going now? Emily braced herself and emptied the wine equally into their glasses.
"So, it's against the backdrop of all this. Shannon, it all turns me on so much. I've got guys coming into my shop and buying pictures of me naked, playing with myself, all of that stuff. They are taking this stuff home, and, you know."
Emily considered her language and decided that there was no place for niceties.
"They are buying that stuff to wank to. So, there I am, selling all these men their ammunition, then they are off home to fire it over me." Emily eyed Shannon and was pleased to note that there was no shock or judgement visible, at least not yet.
"I don't know about you," she continued. "But Shannon, that is all just so exciting to me. And then," she again paused. Shannon found herself willing Emily to continue. Emily sighed. It seemed like there was something big she needed to get off her beautiful chest. What could be bigger than what she'd confessed already?
"So, one day I saw this letter that was sent into one of the magazines. It was obviously written by one of the guys who comes into the shop, about how he dreamed about me ordering him to... to masturbate in front of me. And then one night that guy came into the shop. It was nearly closing time, so..."
Shannon could feel Emily's excitement even now. She found herself breathing more quickly and nodded at her boyfriend's mother to continue.
"So, I just locked the door, dropped to my knees, pulled out my boobs and asked him to wank over me, to cover me."
"Jesus! Emily!"
It wasn't just what she'd done, it was the blatant pleasure she was taking as she relived it.
"I know!" Emily said, her tone contrite but her face alive. "One more bottle?"
Shannon nodded. Until this weekend, she'd not got to know her mother-in-law to be at all, really. Now she was, it was intriguing to say the least.
Shannon's own mother was so different. To her, sex was something that was done out of necessity. She would never indicate that she'd derived an ounce of pleasure from the act, and Shannon assumed the whole thing disgusted her. As happens so often with teenagers, this had pushed Shannon in the opposite direction.
So, it was it was hugely refreshing for Shannon to hear an older, experienced woman who just loved sex, plain and simple.
Despite the shocking, totally obscene and some would say immoral behaviour Emily was describing with a real sense of pride, Shannon couldn't help liking her. Watching her standing at the bar, that killer body clad in it's tight, figure-hugging black dress drawing admiring glances from men and women alike, she wondered whether it was fair to judge.
Shannon put herself in Emily's place. Who was to say how she'd behave if she was in the same position, suddenly realising her sexual freedom was there if she grasped it - and grabbing it so enthusiastically. She wasn't hurting anyone, was she?
However, this feeling was about to be tested. Emily had a steely expression as she topped up their glasses.
"So, Shannon. Please understand the situation. I was so horny; this guy had set my mind racing with his letter making it clear he dreamed about wanking on me. On my part, quite a lot of the time I was dreaming about guys wanking on me too. So, it seemed like the sensible thing to do."
The wine was very much relaxing her now, and Shannon laughed out loud at Emily's logic. Sensible wouldn't be how she'd describe this behaviour. But she wondered why Emily had this apologetic look fixed across her face. She was about to find out.
"So, the thing is, this guy, he signed off his letter 'R'. And then this lad turned up, and he was looking at me like, you know." Shannon nodded. She did know that look.
"And then I clocked his name badge. Richard, it said. R."
Emily left it there, planting the seed and seeing if it would register. It took a minute.
"Wait," Shannon said. "Richard? Not..."
Emily nodded, that apologetic expression almost turning into a grimace.
"I had no idea -- how could I? All I knew is that I was super horny, this guy had been writing letters about how much he wanted me to take control, show me how hard he got for me. It wasn't until yesterday that it registered who he was."
Shannon's jaw dropped. Emily decided to leave her there to digest what she'd just been told and went off to the toilet. She took her time in there, reasoning that the longer Shannon had to think about it, the more she might digest what she said -- or calm down, if she was really furious.
The wine might be affecting her as much as it is affecting me, she thought, squinting at her slightly blurred reflection as she adjusted her make-up.
Emily pondered her next actions. She'd only given Shannon half the story. Her brother Richard wanking off and shooting his virginal cock over Emily's exposed tits was one thing. There was no telling what her reaction to that would be, but she would find out soon.
But the knowledge that Emily had sucked Shannon's father's cock just a few days earlier and swallowed his cum... that one she'd keep to herself, at least for the time being.
As it was, there was a chance that she'd let slip a secret that Shannon might feel obliged to divulge. And if it came out, who knows what the consequences could be -- maybe it would change Shannon's mind about the marriage -- what kind of family was she joining? Emily hoped that would all be OK, she thought Shannon would be a fantastic addition to the family.
With some trepidation she approached the table. She was pleased to find Shannon still present -- she'd worried that she might have used that opportunity to make her exit. She was chatting to a young man who worked there. His name badge said 'Graham'.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to it," he said. Emily was gratified to see his eyes lingered equally on her as much as her younger companion, and she flashed him a smile to let him know that he was very welcome to look her up and down.
"I went to school with Graham," Shannon explained. "He used to have a proper crush on me, back then."
"Who can blame him," Emily smiled. She sat down and picked up her glass. She fixed her gaze on her son's girlfriend deliberately neglecting to show any shame in what she'd done.
Emily made it very clear that she had no idea who Richard was, and that she'd found herself doing that sort of thing a lot recently. It was not her fault that the guy who wanked on her happened to be Shannon's brother.
"That was a bit of a bombshell. You're making a habit of hitting me with those recently, aren't you?" Shannon began. Her blank expression didn't give anything away. "If you aren't shoving beer bottles inside yourself in the pub, you're letting my brother wank over you!"
The tone told Emily she was OK, and she took a breath.
"I always knew he was a little wanker!" Shannon burst into laughter and Emily realised that she was as drunk as her future mother-in-law. "So, was he really writing letters into dirty magazines about how much he fancied you?"
"Well, no, as it happens. It turned out there was another young customer I had whose name begins with 'R' -- Ryan."
"Right. So... are you saying you let my brother wank over you by mistake?"
"I guess I am!" Both girls collapsed into fits of laughter, taking a full minute before they could continue the conversation. They drew glances from the other patrons of the bar, but they didn't care.
"Do you know the funniest thing though?" Emily continued, wiping her eyes. "Ryan, he actually came in the very next day."
"Oh, the poor thing! Did you tell him that someone else stole his fantasy?"
"Well, I didn't think it fair for him to miss out, so I let him have a little go too..." She winked at Shannon, who felt a little wave of heat wash over her. Emily had received the loads of two young men over her breasts in twenty-four hours. And she was glowing with pride at something few women would ever even think of doing, less so admit it so easily.
Shannon had not expected this, but she was finding the thought of this beautiful, shameless woman exposing herself and turning on half the men in town increasingly arousing.
"Please just tell me Richard knows it's not going to happen again?"
"Oh god no!" Emily lied. "As soon as I realised, I made sure he was on the same page. It was a mistake and could never happen again."
In actual fact Emily had told Richard that if he kept quiet and behaved himself, there was a chance of a repeat performance in future. She'd decided this was the best approach and kept Richard under control, which might prove useful given the delicate situation she was in.
"No harm done then. Emily, I have to say. Last night, when I saw you like that. You could probably tell I was more than a bit shocked. I trouble sleeping, I couldn't get the image out of my head. But I've thought about it, and everything else you've told me tonight, and I really don't have a problem with it."
"Oh, that's really nice of you to say, Shannon," Emily smiled warmly. "Listen, I know most wouldn't be quite as understanding as you. Your mum, for example..." Emily recalled the battleaxe from the party and shuddered at the thought of having to explain away her having encouraged her son to masturbate over Emily's exposed breasts. And as for her husband, whose sperm she could still almost feel gushing into the back of her throat...
"Oh shit! As if I'd tell her anything like that! Mum is... I guess she's the total opposite to you, in that regard. She wouldn't understand that at all. I can wholeheartedly guarantee that she will never find out from me."
Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Shannon was, if not quite approving, almost ambivalent to the knowledge that her future mother-in-law enjoyed exposing herself to strangers. She'd taken the news of what Emily had done with her brother better than anyone could possibly expect.
"But there is one big issue I have with it all," Shannon said, trying to pull her thoughts together through an increasing alcohol fuelled haze. "Stephen, your son, he's soon to be my husband. I can't see any possible way I can keep this secret, whilst still being able to say my vows with a straight face. Are you... do you plan to stop it, all of this stuff?"
Emily sipped from her wine and looked at Shannon closely before answering.
"Absolutely not. I'm still doing my shoots every Saturday. I just know I'll regret it, if I back away now. My looks aren't going to last forever, so I want to make sure I do everything I can possibly do, whilst I have the chance."
"So, what are you going to do about Stephen then?"
Emily didn't know. She'd very successfully blanked out any responsible thoughts for some time now, and she almost resented being forced to consider such things. But deep down she knew Shannon was right.
"I really have no idea," she shrugged. "You are spot on, of course you are. I've been enjoying myself so much recently. But I do need to think about him. What do you think?"
Shannon was a little taken aback. Being asked for her opinion, her advice, on a subject like this was bizarre to say the least. But it did endear her to Emily even more. Although she was much older, the childlike innocence in Emily's attitude betrayed her young years spent trapped at home, dreaming of the day when she could focus on her own happiness.
Now she was there, Shannon didn't have the heart to burst her bubble. She still had the vision burned into her memory of Emily totally surrendered to base desire. She'd sought out, exposed herself to, and masturbated in front of a group of strange men.
Who does that? She kept asking herself. But part of her knew that, in another world, in another time, the idea of just spreading out and feeling the eyes of random men feasting on her body was a feeling she'd be very keen on experiencing. In some ways, Emily was living the dream.
That Emily was doing what she was doing was nothing more than incredible. Shannon knew there would be recriminations. But she wasn't going to be the one to pull the rug.
"I don't know. Let me have a think about it -- you think about it too. Listen, I'm going to have to go now. If I have any more to drink, I'm not going to make it home! It's been nice getting to know you better Emily. I'll maybe pop in your shop later in the week, OK?"
The girls shared an embrace and Shannon trotted off, lots to think about. As she left, Emily noticed most of the male heads in the room turn to glimpse that superb backside, squeezed into her jeans. That included Graham, the young barman who clearly hadn't completely shaken his teenage crush on Shannon.
Emily was drunk, there was no other way to put it. She was bad enough when sober, but now her libido was in overdrive. Shannon's acceptance of her antics was nice. It meant a lot, and it was quite a relief -- that could have gone much worse. She felt a little unshackled, the alcohol intensifying this feeling.
Her eye caught Graham's, and she held up her empty glass.
"Another?" he asked politely, taking her glass. Emily held on to it for a split second, causing him to lurch toward her slightly.
"I've not decided yet," she mused, very aware that she might be approaching the stage when her words might slur. "Graham, is that right?"
"Yes. Sorry, you are Shannon's friend?"
"Emily," Emily said. She was going for mysterious, but not quite managing it. "You've not seen me then? I mean, you've not seen me before?"
"No, should I have?"
Emily was getting used to people recognising her. She liked that, but it was nice that Graham didn't, in a way. She could surprise him. He was quite tall and well built. Her eyes flicked to his crotch, as she'd found they did more and more these days when she met a man.
"No, no, not at all. Anyway, Shannon tells me you used to have a thing for her -- I hope you haven't still got designs on her? She's marrying my son, you know."
"Oh really? She didn't say. So, you'll be her mother-in-law?"
"I will."
"You don't look old enough!" It was a throwaway, standard line in this situation and Emily knew it. But she flashed a smile at him all the same.
"Flattery will get you anywhere," she winked. Graham looked Emily up and down. Despite being clearly the worse for wear, she was an amazing looking woman. And she appeared to be flirting with him. The fact she was close to the lovely Shannon was an added bonus.
"So, did you want another?" he asked.
"I'm afraid that one more might be a bad idea. And drinking alone is never a good thing. Unless you want to join me?"
"Well, I do get off at seven..." Emily glanced up at the clock. It was quarter-to.
"Now we're talking. And if you get off at seven, when do I get off?" The words came so easily and causally, Graham questioned whether he'd heard her right.
Emily watched the young man clearing tables and thanked him as he brought her the glass of water she'd sensibly decided on. Graham replayed their conversation as he worked. Surely, he'd misinterpreted what she meant. 'When do I get off'. What else could that mean, outside of the obvious?
Each time he glanced over she smiled. Was this really happening? This stunningly attractive woman was waiting for his shift to finish, and she was very obviously flirting with him.
Graham didn't want to drink in the place he worked, so they moved next-door to the Irish bar. Emily had an orange juice, she was pulling herself back from the edge and feeling a bit more in control. Graham had a pint.
"I bet you do this all the time, do you? Seduce your customers during your shift?"
Graham spluttered.
"Hardly! If anyone is seducing anyone here, it's you!"
"Oh really? I'm sure I'm much too old for you. I saw the way you looked at Shannon's arse as she left earlier."
"No!"
"Yes!" Emily laughed. Graham's face said 'busted'.
"It's fine! There wasn't a man in that place didn't look at her arse. It's a really nice arse, you'd be mad not to look. I couldn't take my eyes off it. But do me a favour, take a good look at mine and tell me how it compares." She stood and walked slowly towards the toilet. She very deliberately let her skirt ride up just enough for the interested observer to make out her stocking tops.
Graham couldn't believe what was happening. Just as every male eye in the room had to check out Shannon's perfect rear in her tight jeans, so all eyes were glued to his companion's amazing backside. It was at least Shannon's equal, even if it was twenty years older.
Emily looked back over her shoulder and winked at the young man with his eyes glued to her stunning rear view.
The front view, as she returned, was even better, if that was possible. The tight material of her dress accentuated breasts which jostled for attention, begged to be squeezed. Emily's nipples were very visible, standing proud and making it clear there was no bra underneath.
"Well?" Emily prompted as she sat down, reminding Graham that he wasn't dreaming, and this was actually happening.
"Amazing!" he replied immediately. "Yes, just as good as Shannon's."
"Correct answer," she smiled. Graham had nearly finished his pint, and she glanced at the clock.
"So, let's just lay it all out there, shall we? As you can probably tell, I'm drunk and horny." Graham gulped and nodded. "If you are willing, then you are more than welcome to take advantage of that. I'm a very open and sexual woman, and you'll find I'm very happy to do a lot of the things I hope you want to do to me."
Graham drained his pint. The alcohol had just started to embolden him, and this stunning woman was putting herself on a plate. He felt the need to appear more confident than he actually was.
"Like what?" he said, imagining what Harrison Ford or Tom Cruise might say in this situation. Emily saw what he was doing and humoured him. She liked his style.
"Have you got a girlfriend Graham?"
"No, not right now. I have though, before, I mean I'm not a..."
"Virgin?" Emily knew he wasn't already, she could tell. She wouldn't have minded if he was -- she didn't really care. "What did she like to do? Your girlfriend. Did she like to suck your cock?"
Graham flushed red. Harrison Ford definitely wouldn't have done that.
"No, no. I mean, yes, she did it, a couple of times. But I always had to persuade her."
"Really? You won't have to persuade me, Graham. I'm going to suck your cock as much as you like. But first I'd like you to see me naked. You can feel my body, kiss it, all over. What was her name, your girlfriend?"
"Lianne."
"Did Lianne like showing off for you? Wearing sexy underwear, and giving you little flashes when you were out?" As she spoke, she slowly pulled down the stretchy material of her top. Both nipples jumped free, proving that she was indeed braless.
They sat in silence for around thirty seconds, Emily's full breasts resting attractively on the table. The girl coming around the corner probably caught a glimpse of her little display; she pulled her top up but not urgently. Emily didn't care and smiled at her as she passed.
That act of blatant exhibitionism made everything suddenly very real for Graham. Until then, he'd felt like it was too good to be true, Emily would sober up and decide against it, or something would crop up and change everything. But those exposed breasts were the green flag. He wanted to grab them, maul them, suck those inviting nipples.
Emily saw the change in Graham's demeanour. Her hand snaked up his leg and the solid evidence of his arousal confirmed it. They were both ready.
A suitable venue was needed. Luckily Emily's shop, which was seeing more sexual encounters than many bedrooms recently, was just around the corner.
Graham's head was between Emily's legs before they had even kissed, she'd hoisted herself onto her counter and spread her legs as soon as the door had closed behind them. Graham was doing an excellent job down there, she thought. His tongue felt surprisingly firm when it delved inside her, and very gentle and pleasant as it flicked around her clit.
She was in no rush. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched him lovingly and diligently attending to her hungry cunt. She realised he was only the second man, after Pavel, to do this.
With Pavel, it had always been a starter before the main course, which was a fuck. Emily felt an incredible desire to tell him to stop. She was more than ready to feel Graham's hard cock inside her.
Full, penetrative sex was something she'd drawn a line with though. There were multiple reasons, one being that she had no form of contraception. Stephen was enough of a responsibility for her and she had no desire to parent again
And in the early nineties, AIDS adverts loomed from bus stop adverts, and each break in a TV show reminded of the drastic consequences liaisons just like this one could bring.
Condoms would negate both of these concerns, sure. But this wasn't the real reason for her reluctance. The day she'd allowed Mike, her dearly departed husband, to slide his unimpressive cock inside her, had marked the start of twenty years of toil, boredom, claustrophobia and drudgery.
A man, especially a young, inexperienced one such as Graham, was very likely to form an attachment with a woman who allowed him to fuck her. She'd seen it many times. All of her friend's marriages had started out like that. It was almost as if, once mated, a male bonds for life. That bond was something Emily had no interest in.
Of course, she knew this was ridiculous -- men were constantly fucking anything that moved, having affairs, visiting prostitutes. But for whatever reason Emily had come to equate sexual intercourse with subjugation. Which was a shame, because her urge to feel hard, warm male meat inside her increased by the day.
And so, her session with Graham, whilst extremely exciting and fulfilling, did not include intercourse. Not that he cared in the slightest. Graham marvelled at the abandon Emily displayed as she essentially brought herself to climax on his face, her shaven cunt grinding against him, a reward for some excellent work with his tongue.
Emily pulled his face against hers, tasting her juice which was smeared all over his chin and cheeks without hesitation. Graham contrasted this with Lianne, who had insisted he go and wash his face before kissing her on the odd occasion he'd been down there.
But the real reward came as Emily dropped to her knees and began what he'd later picture as a ritual of worship on his cock. To say she was invested in the task of sucking him off was more than an understatement. From the moment he slipped his work trousers down and freed his penis, desperate for attention, she was obsessed with it
The rest of his body was irrelevant to her now. All she wanted was this cock, and her scarlet lips slipped around it and slid down the shaft, her eyes rolling back in her head as she savoured the feeling of hard meat at the back of her throat.
After only thirty seconds or so he had to physically restrain her for a short period to prevent things finishing unceremoniously. But, somehow, he managed to get a grip and keep the arousal at a level where he was taking huge pleasure, without overstepping the mark and shooting a load which had been building since Emily first winked at him before he finished his shift.
It was a challenge. Emily's skills were amazing. The way her eyes never left his. The way her hands cupped his balls as she pulled his shaft lovingly, holding his glans in her mouth. The way her tongue flicked around the head, then all the way up and down his whole stiff length.
As she detected he was unlikely to be able to continue much longer, Emily broke free and stood, slipping out of her dress and panties. A lot of thick saliva slid down her face and hung from her chin. Smiling sweetly at Graham in just her suspenders and stockings, she lay down on the floor, encouraging his hands to wander. She took his hand and guided it in between her legs, and he fingered the wet mess his tongue had created.
Pulling him closer by his cock, she looked into her eyes lovingly.
"Did Lianne let you cum in her mouth? Or in her face? You can do whatever you want to me," Emily smiled at him. The sight of this slut spread out in front of him, encouraging him to ejaculate wherever he liked, prompted exactly what Emily meant it to.
Graham joined the growing number of men for whom sex became almost spoiled. After experiencing Emily, nothing else would ever compare. He watched on as she wanked his dick into her face. She made sure the whole load covered her forehead and, when all was spent, smiled up at him, knowing the sight of his semen sliding down her nose and cheeks, forming little dangling drips and falling onto her cleavage, would give him memories to last a lifetime.
"I bet Lianne never did this, right?" she giggled, before lying back and spreading her legs for him again.
Graham just stood there, shellshocked. The one time Lianne had deigned to bring him to climax in this way, the culmination was her aiming away from her body at the crucial moment, so that he watched his sperm landing harmlessly on a pillow which his girlfriend immediately hurried off into the bathroom to clean up.
Emily's reaction was much more gratifying. Even though he knew he wasn't special to Emily, he felt it anyway. Seeing her so aroused and happy to be covered in Graham's sticky mess, that wasn't fake. She truly loved it. She loved sex, loved cock. And he was providing it for her, so in the moment he still felt pretty damn good.
Graham's cock was still mostly erect. He wasn't sure if he was meant to just thank Emily and leave now, or if there was another accepted behaviour in this situation. Emily stood and he watched in confusion as she pulled down a magazine from the top shelf and handed it to him.
'Wet and Open'. It was a dirty magazine. Unlike most boys of his age, Graham didn't have a cache of pornography under his bed. He wasn't against it, as such, but he'd never felt the need to supplement his imagination, which was very vivid.
So, he was confused as to why Emily had handed him this magazine. But all became clear when she flipped it open to the centrefold. Emily's face smiled out at them, a dildo glistening with her juices in one hand and her pussy spread wide open, nothing left to the imagination.
"Oh shit! That's you!"
Emily didn't reply, just smiled and let him leaf through the images of her stripping off and fucking herself with a dildo.
Graham could only stare at the magazine, back at the stunning Emily, and then back to the lurid pictures. He felt like he'd entered an alternate reality. This couldn't be real, could it? Just the fact that a woman like Emily had picked him was unbelievable enough. But here she was, proudly flaunting her body across the pages of a magazine which she was selling in her own shop.
Emily grinned as he struggled to comprehend. This was a situation she adored. On a daily basis she watched guys flicking through the pages and appreciating her body. The tease was amazing, the knowledge that every one of these men would be getting all hard and worked up and wanking themselves off over her. The thought was always a fantastic one.
Sometimes though, she needed more.
"What do you think?" she said. Graham had no words. The fact that his cock hadn't subsided at all, despite the great job he'd done of emptying his balls all over her, told Emily that he still had more for her.
"I know what you're thinking," she breathed, leaning back on one elbow so that she could present her juicy cunt to him again. "What kind of girl does something like that?" she nodded to the magazine where the alternative Emily was as available as the real one in front of Graham.
"What kind of girl sells herself to strangers, every day? Gives them advice, tells them where to find the dirtiest pictures of her? What kind of girl picks up guys, sucks their dicks and lets them cum all over her?"
Emily was pushing two fingers up inside herself now. Graham couldn't help but grab his cock again.
"Oh, fuck yeah, that's it. I want to watch you wank over me. That's what I need, that's what I love. It's what I was put on this earth for, to be fucking wanked over by all you dirty guys with your lovely hard cocks!"
Graham kneeled down between Emily's open knees. Emily saw his cock, the head bobbing up and down as he masturbated for her, only inches from her soaking cunt. She reached down and stretched her labia wide, as far as she could. Graham couldn't have a more open invitation.
If he'd simply leaned forward and eased inside her at that moment, she would have been powerless to resist. A large part of her was willing him to do it, to take away the self-inflicted barrier she'd erected. To shut up the doubt and the worry and just fuck her.
Somehow Emily's last semblance of sense told her this couldn't happen, and her fingers found her way inside herself again -- both to inflict a pleasure enhanced by the brief anticipation of a penis inside her, and to block access to the cock which was so close to entering her.
"Ohhh, fuck!" she moaned. "Christ, I need a good fucking so much. But I can't! You'd love it, wouldn't you? Ramming that lovely hard cock right inside this soaking little hole?"
Graham was confused, but the sights and sounds in front of him would be relived every day for the rest of his life. He felt like perhaps he should fuck Emily, but on the other hand maybe he shouldn't. It seemed like he's missed his opportunity, as she was very much attached to her fingers now.
Any thoughts of penetrating this beauty were now moot. Emily's excruciatingly horny display had him shooting a much smaller load onto her stomach. The feeling of more sperm landing on her brought her back from whatever disgusting place she'd been, and she smiled thankfully up at him.
Once she'd spent a few minutes cleaning him up and ensuring every little drip of cum was greedily sucked out of his softening shaft, she sent him on his way, as usual with strict instructions not to expect a repeat performance (unless Emily decided otherwise).
She didn't have a jacket, so she simply pulled her stretchy dress back on, leaving Graham's sperm adorning her face. Little drips kept landing on the black material as she walked home. She was slightly disappointed that she didn't pass anyone. Part of her would have loved to bump into someone she knew and have to explain why she was walking home dressed like a whore, with sperm all over her face.
Wednesday was delivery day again. Emily looked forward to it more than anything, but this one proved to be the best yet. Vikesh arrived at opening time. Emily let him in.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out? Why didn't you tell me?" His face had no animosity. Emily guessed he'd discovered about her new modelling career, but feigned innocence.
"What?" she said airily.
Vikesh slapped a magazine down on the counter. On the cover of 'Park Lane', unmistakable, was the face of Emily, smiling out at the world.
"Oh!" Emily was speechless, but not from any place of shame or embarrassment. Her knees almost buckled and she stopped breathing entirely, her heart pounding so that her breasts felt like they were visibly shaking.
"I..." She gathered herself, her intense tremor of excitement turning quickly into an intense surge of arousal. "I don't see why I have to tell you everything I do."
Vikesh laughed loudly.
"Fucking hell Emily! I never would have guessed it. Here you are selling all my dirty magazines, and at the same time you are also modelling for them too. What the fuck! How long has this been going on for?"
"A little while," Emily shrugged. She spun the magazine around to examine it closer. The shot was from above, she was topless and her deep green eyes were staring directly into the camera. Her nipples were concealed only by two fingers of each hand, which were also squashing her flawless tits together and creating a cleavage which cried out to be appreciated.
"I'm guessing you didn't write the quote there," Vikesh prompted, pointing to the words emblazoned below the image:
'Shoot on these! Covergirl Emily gives you some target practice inside!'
This plunged her right back into a barely functioning state for a minute, her eyes involuntarily closing as a surge of almost electrical lust streaked up her spine to her brain.
Alan had warned that her pictures would be accompanied by lurid quotes and comments -- this was something she'd had to sign a waiver to, allowing them to put anything they wanted beside her images. But, if she could have chosen, she would have come up with something just like this herself.
"No, I didn't," she agreed.
"And you let them use your real name?!"
"Sure, why not?" She genuinely had no desire to try to hide her identity and had happily told Alan that she'd have no problem with her real name and town of residence accompanying her pictures. "Hey, Vikesh, I think this is going to be a popular one -- can I get some extra copies?"
Vikesh eyed her curiously.
"Sure, I've got a dozen or so in the van, I'll bring them in."
"Can you put in an order for some more please? I think probably fifty should do it," Emily smiled. She knew this was going to fly off the shelves, and she did not want to be in a position where she could not meet demand.
Vikesh had to do his rounds, but left three stacks of magazines for Emily, wondering again out loud at Emily's new career choice. As soon as he left the shop, Emily had her butt plug firmly inserted, and her butterfly strapped on securely. Setting the buzzing away at a low two out of seven, she opened up 'Park Lane'.
Not only was she the cover girl, she was also the centrefold. Emily remembered this shoot -- she was dressed in virginal white underwear, and the first shot was the only one that could remotely be termed 'decent'. Her breasts were out and her knickers around her knees by the second shot. She spread her legs and masturbated for the camera, slipping two fingers inside herself and massaging her clit.
The centre spread featured her lying back in a chair, each leg splayed across an arm so that she was completely open for inspection. Her face was a picture of happiness, and her cunt was stretched wide, two fingers holding her labia apart.
She'd not opened the shop yet, so allowed herself to push the vibrator strapped under her floaty summer dress to four, then five. She flicked back to the cover, then back inside to her set, reading the little text box on the first page:
"Emily can't get enough of guys wanking over her, she tells us. 'I just love it when a cock erupts, shooting spunk everywhere! I love the feel of warm cum splashing on my skin and the taste in my mouth. I love knowing that all your randy readers are going to be wanking over me, it's just a shame I can't be there to watch all that lovely jizz firing over my pictures from all of those lovely hard cocks!'"
She didn't write it, but if she had, these words would have been exactly what she'd want to accompany her pictures. An orgasm washed over her, and she leaned onto the counter to apply a little more pressure to the vibrator which she'd cranked up to the maximum, seven.
Allowing herself a minute to recover from the amazing orgasm, she set about arranging the delivery on the top shelves. 'Park Lane', as one of the more explicit magazines she sold, was usually one which was tucked away, mostly out of sight on the back row, with another magazine in front of it. This month, she gave it pride of place on the next row down, right at the edge closest to the door.
All the pervs, and maybe lots of others who took a glance up there when they entered, would see her immediately. If the topless shot and her inviting expression wasn't enough, the invitation: 'Shoot on These!' was the icing on the cake.
"Shoot on these!" she said it out loud. In the whirlwind of the past few months, sometimes it took a moment to stand still and really appreciate what was happening to get real perspective on everything. Emily was busy putting a magazine on display featuring herself proudly topless on the cover, inviting men to masturbate and ejaculate over her.
Inside, she stripped off completely naked and ensured the camera captured the sight of her posing, masturbating and stretching wide open, ensuring every inch of her body could be appreciated. Accompanying the pictures were very explicit quotes where she described how much she loved tasting and feeling men's sperm on her body and in her mouth.
And the best part was, it was true! Every word. But this seemed like a landmark moment. Did she dare to advertise herself as a 'wank target', as she liked to think of it, in such a prominent position in her shop? Family and friends might see her on display and discover that Emily liked to invite men to wank over her. This was probably a bit too much.
But, she told herself, it was too late now anyway. No matter what she did here in her own shop, she was on sale over the whole country, inviting everyone to use her as target practice.
Nevertheless, this was pushing things right to the limit of her comfort zone. But after twice losing her nerve and stacking the bundle of copies in a less conspicuous location, she found herself talking herself back into it, and finally decided that there was no fighting the part of her who needed to be exposed so desperately.
The day was amazing. Once the morning rush was over, as usual on a delivery Wednesday most of her callers were the pervs. And she revelled in the reaction as each one of them realised what was going on.
"Yes, it's me," she smiled, adopting a 'well what can you do?' attitude on the outside, but feeling her knickers flooding as the magazine was picked up and her pictures perused. Every man who came into her shop that day bought a copy.
She offered no explanation, no mitigating circumstances for the invitation which was blatantly roaring out from the cover, her wink and knowing smile with every copy sold completely endorsing those words.
She wanted to be wanked over. She loved the feel and the taste of cum. It was there in black and white for the world to read and appreciate.
Throughout her life Emily had gone through a few roles. Wife, Mother, shopkeeper. But now, if anyone asked her what she did, she'd say it loud and proud. She was a model. An adult model. A porn star.
A slut, and proud of it...
منذ 2 أشهر
