A Model Mother Pt. 08
The day was perfect -- cloudless skies, not a breath of wind. Emily arrived at the church feeling amazing. Her black, strapless dress displayed a cleavage which was much more famous than it had been at the time of the last gathering, the engagement party.
She did have a few **** thoughts, though. She was fairly certain that she'd spotted some of her 'pervs' at the previous party.
Eily referred to the guys who frequented her shop and bought their porn from her as her 'pervs'. And she knew that the camera club's burgeoning membership had begun to include increasing numbers of those same pervs.
In the few months since she took over her now deceased husband's newsagents, she'd become quite the celebrity with the male population of the town. She'd quickly gone from serving them their adult magazines with a smile, through appearing on the covers herself, to taking part in weekly photoshoots with the camera club.
Photoshoot was one way to describe it, but each evening ended with most of the guys getting to grips with her famous body, and she'd inevitably end up covered in the sperm of most of the members of the club. The membership of the club had, unsurprisingly, increased dramatically since Emily had begun her regular sessions there.
She knew many of those guys would be in attendance today, but Emily couldn't really put names to faces.
It was hard to be certain who was who. She was always blinded by the bright studio lights. Besides, her own focus was almost always on the cocks which surrounded her, she had little interest for their owners when she was in the heat of the moment.
But she knew that it was inevitable that she'd be bumping into men who not only had seen her naked and masturbating across the pages of countless magazines, but it was almost certain guys would be in attendance who had fingered her, brought her to orgasm and used her mouth and throat with abandon before using her as a sperm deposit point.
She knew this should be causing her concern, trepidation, even fear about what might happen. But the fact that all she felt was arousal said it all. She was looking forward to whatever the day may bring.
Today, though, was about Stephen and Shannon. Emily felt almost the same pride in her new daughter-in-law as her own son, so close had they grown recently. She felt a tear as Shannon appeared, stunning in white. And her own son Stephen was a real handsome young man. A credit to her.
Vows were exchanged and there were smiles and tears of happiness all around. Outside, Emily joined the other guests in showering the happy couple with rice and confetti. She was a little taken aback when Shannon's bouquet, thrown blindly over her head, landed neatly in her arms.
An extended photo session in the church grounds followed. Emily was included in lots of the groups as mother of the groom. She was very experienced in front of the camera these days, but her clothes remained very much on this time.
The party then moved, in several cars and one large, old style London bus, to the same hotel where the engagement party had taken place several months earlier. The guests were crammed on board and, during the journey Emily was interested to feel a guy's crotch pressing firmly into her rear. Turning to see who it was, she half-recognised a guy who she thought was probably one of her pervs.
She made no obvious reaction but allowed him to use the natural uneven motion of the bus to regularly jab a penis which got firmer by the second into her behind. It felt quite nice. As they disembarked at the hotel, she saw the guy turn to his wife (she presumed), who had been chatting to a friend for the whole journey.
He had one hand in his pocket, no doubt restraining the full erection which Emily had encouraged him to achieve on the journey. She smiled to herself. This was quite a nice arrangement. She definitely noticed quite a few familiar faces. If all the guys had wives, then they were effectively muzzled. They all knew Emily was a slut but couldn't really do anything about it. It gave her at least a chance of playing the role of wholesome mother of the groom, mother-in-law, guest at a wedding.
And it also gave her a lovely feeling. That guy may well have had his cock in her mouth. Maybe he liked to finger Emily. He might be one of the guys whose tongue had been finding its way to her eager little clit recently. She would almost certainly have tasted his cum. That was a hot thought.
What was just as hot was the realisation, again, that she really had no idea whose fingers and tongues had been inside her, or who's cum she'd swallowed. There were so many, the studio was so dark and the lights so blinding. She loved this. She couldn't say with any real authority that any of the guys in attendance today hadn't had their cock in her mouth. That thought made her wet.
Emily knew that some would find her behaviour disgraceful, scandalous and totally immoral. A lot of these guys were married men. She'd be called a homewrecker, a whore, a harlot.
She had very little time for this train of thought. If they were worried about their man straying, they should just fuck him more often. Or suck his cock before he left the house. She couldn't really fathom why it would bother them though. If she had a 'regular' man, she would certainly not begrudge him some fun with another sexy woman.
Her eyes had been well and truly opened by the relationship of Will, the chairman of the camera club and his wife, Anne. Anne had, many years ago, been the regular model for the camera club back in its inception. Which translated to Will and all his friends fucking her each week and recording all the details on the thousands of photos which they treasured.
Anne and Will had a relationship the like of which Emily hadn't come across before, and which she'd started to envy. They were so happy and comfortable with each other, despite, or perhaps because of, the lack of boundaries and invisible barriers most couples drew up.
At the hotel the champagne flowed and the music played. Emily's eyes lingered on the many couples there, wondering if any were as lucky as Anne and Will.
The happy couple took the first dance, and silence descended for the speeches. Emily enjoyed the best man's effort. She'd known Kevin since he wasn't long out of nappies, and he had lots of amusing anecdotes about her son.
Then came the father of the bride speech. Emily knew she should probably feel guilty, but all she got was a warm feeling seeing Oliver in his suit. Twice now she'd been responsible for the Oliver producing a lovely load of cum for her. She could almost taste it right now.
Michelle, his wife, didn't really pay much attention to his speech, she was too busy organising dinner or something, Emily supposed. The speech went well, and a real party atmosphere built.
At dinner, Emily was seated with Oliver and Michelle, another couple she'd never met before, and a guy she was certain she'd seen at the camera club, who was also with his wife. She loved this. Two guys whose cocks she had sucked were politely having dinner with their wives and making small talk with her.
The couple she didn't know had been whispering together throughout the starter, Emily could feel their eyes on her. Once the table had been cleared, the woman, who was probably about ten years older than Emily, spoke up.
"Hi, we've not been properly introduced. I'm Susan, and this is Ant." Emily offered a hand, and it was shaken. "Listen, I wondered -- I don't think we're mistaken. Do you... are you a model?"
There had been enough champagne past Emily's lips to prevent her mind freezing up, but she recognised that her answer would be heard with interest by the table. Her eye caught Michelle's -- did she know? She wondered if Susan and Ant liked to look at porn together and had seen Emily at her finest. She hoped so. But she very much doubted Michelle would be impressed that her daughter had married the son of a porn star.
Emily was not inclined to lie or hide though. She knew some people wouldn't like it -- would very much dislike it -- but she was fiercely proud of the exciting, seedy career she'd forged. Michelle most certainly would not like it, but that wasn't Emily's problem.
"Well, I am, as it happens," she smiled, taking the bull by the horns.
"Really?" Michelle interjected immediately. "But you run the newsagents!"
"Well, I don't, really, anymore. Your daughter is very much running that shop, and what an amazing job she's doing!" Emily smiled graciously. Michelle took the bait and Emily thought conversation may have been steered away from the dangerous path it looked like taking for a little while.
Shannon's business acumen and extremely capable personality were discussed and complimented. Emily didn't mention that Michelle and Oliver's daughter had started to show a keen interest in the vast catalogue of pornography she stocked in her shop, nor that she was growing to share Emily's illicit thrill at selling dirty magazines to all the men in town.
She also didn't let on that she was sure Shannon had been using Emily's sex toys throughout the day, judging by the number of empty batteries Emily saw in the bin any time she looked.
And she certainly didn't mention the time, just a few weeks ago, when Shannon's racy photoshoot, a surprise wedding present for her fiancé, Stephen, ended in Michelle's daughter bringing herself to a shuddering climax in front of Emily, the photographer and his wife.
The subject appeared to have changed, but Susan wasn't ready to move on. She had a real glint in her eye which told Emily that she was absolutely aware of Emily's fame. She didn't show any disapproval, but she wasn't going to let it go.
"Emily, is that right? Your real name?" Emily felt a beautiful shiver run down her spine. 'Her real name'. She had very deliberately opted against a pseudonym or alter-ego for her modelling. She had, right from the beginning, pictured situations like this one and dreamed about where they might end up.
Emily liked being in the spotlight, attention and shame being thrown at her from all angles. Her smile was lighting up the table.
"Yes, it is. I've got no reason to change it, nothing to hide," she smiled.
"Very little to hide, from what we've seen!" Emily thought she liked Susan. By no means good looking physically, she and her husband seemed to share a real connection. She wondered if their relationship was like Anne and Will's. They were very comfortable in this situation. Oliver, on the other hand, was very much not.
"Right, so it must be about time for the main course?" He was looking around urgently.
"What sort of modelling do you do?" Michelle asked. It was said casually, but her lack of eye contact and the measured nature of the question told Emily she was digging.
"Glamour," Emily said immediately and with a smile. A troupe of waitresses suddenly appeared with the main course, braised pork with apples and cider. This slowed conversation for a little while, and Oliver was praying the train of thought would be lost. But as soon as the food was finished, Michelle returned to the theme. She must have been thinking long and hard throughout dinner.
"Glamour modelling -- exactly what does that entail?" she asked pointedly. Emily was onto her fourth or fifth glass of champagne.
"Oh, well, it's..."
"Like catalogue modelling, right?" interjected Oliver a little desperately.
"Not the sort of catalogues I get through my door!" said Ant, and Susan slapped him playfully on the arm, the pair of them descending into fits of giggles. The other couple watched on in silence. Emily guessed the guy, another regular at her photoshoots, was as reticent as Oliver for this conversation to continue where it was going, into territory his wife may not approve of.
"So what exactly does 'Glamour' modelling entail then? Michelle fixed the mother of her son-in-law with an intense look. Emily held her gaze and smiled brightly.
"Not quite catalogue, but I do a lot of magazine work," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice.
"I see. And is it... is it lucrative?"
"Very! But I don't do it for the money. Well, I mean, the money is nice, but it's great fun, I really enjoy it."
"I see," Michelle said slowly. "Are we... we aren't talking about topless work surely? At your age?"
Emily felt a little surge of annoyance at this. 'At her age'? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Emily had a body as good as Michelle's daughter who was not long out of her teens. Michelle was fat, frumpy and dowdy. She managed to gather herself, but decided to give Michelle what she probably didn't want to hear -- the truth.
"Well yes, topless. But if I'm honest, I don't think I've ever done a shoot where topless was the end of it."
"Quite!" said Susan. Emily wondered how well she and Ant knew Oliver and Michelle. They didn't seem to have much in common. "It takes a bit more than a flash of a boob to get Ant here going... Cucumber?"
She'd taken a piece of cucumber from her plate and fed it to her husband. Emily recognised the reference immediately. They had definitely seen Emily's encounter with a cucumber in 'Shaven Havens'.
"Thanks. I wonder what's for pudding. Maybe a banana split?" The pair descended into fits of laughter. Emily knew they had also enjoyed watching her ram a thick banana up herself, the highlight of the March copy of the same publication.
Michelle was now feeling very uncomfortable. As soon as the main course was finished, she got up and left without excusing herself. Oliver followed, dutifully.
Emily sat and chatted politely with Suan and Ant for a while, feeling quite the celebrity. Susan was the rare type who didn't disapprove of her husband's interest in the type of work Emily liked to do. It was nice to hear nothing but approval, Susan even going so far as to say that if she'd had Emily's body, she would do exactly the same.
And so, Emily was feeling really good as the lights dimmed and the evening began. Michelle would have to find out sooner or later. Hopefully she would come to terms with it and all would be fine between them. But if not, she didn't really care. Only her relationships with people she respected mattered to her.
She noticed that the dark lights and flowing alcohol made a few of the guys with partners a little less careful in where their eyes went. But none approached her. A few younger ones who weren't attached were less restrained, and Emily agreed to a dance with more than one of Stephen's friends
She was very careful not to do anything that might cause her daughter-in-law a scandal, firmly removing the hands that kept finding their way too close to her buttocks or breasts as they danced. But she did it with a smile -- she was enjoying the attention.
However, scandal was to come and, surprisingly, it had little to do with Emily -- not directly anyway. Around ten-thirty there was a bit of a furore at the far end of the room. Emily recognised Shannon, Stephen and Michelle were having what looked like a shouting match. She rushed over, to be greeted by a furious Michelle, shouting in her face.
"Don't tell me this is nothing to do with you! Shannon would never dream of doing anything like this, then she starts working for a SLUT and THIS happens!"
Emily didn't reply, mostly because she had no idea what Michelle's problem was. But she did quite like being called a slut so loudly and publicly by Michelle. Being outed, named and shamed as a slut was one of her dirty little fantasies.
"Mum! That's not fair! I'm an adult for god's sake -- I'm a married woman! I'm allowed to do whatever I want!"
"Yes, and that just happens to be exactly what this..." Michelle seemed to struggle to find the right word, as 'slut' didn't seem to affect Emily as she'd hoped. "What this WHORE likes to do in her spare time!"
"I hardly think posing for some sexy pictures for my husband is the same as..." Shannon stopped herself for fear of digging a hole for her mother-in-law. Emily saw a photo album on the table and guessed what had happened. Michelle had somehow seen the shoot of Shannon in her wedding dress.
"I'm really sorry you are upset Michelle," Emily smiled gently, "Shannon thought it would be a nice wedding present for Stephen, so I put her in touch with some people I know. I didn't think it would be a problem!" Her tone was like a patient mother consoling a *******, and only seemed to infuriate Michelle even further.
"Some people you know? Perverts and pimps? If I'd realised what Shannon was marrying into, I'd have..."
"You'd have what!?" Shannon interjected, face full of rage which rivalled her mothers. "Emily's been amazing to me, I've got a great job now thanks to her, and I'm really happy. She's been more of a mother to me in the past few months than you have in your whole life!"
This hurt and Emily didn't like being there for it. The music was continuing and although several guests were taking notice now, the scene wasn't as big as it could have been. She moved towards Michelle to try to placate her, but she was pushed away roughly.
"More of a mother? This?" she gestured at Emily like she was a piece of dirt. "All she's done for you is show you how to open your legs!"
Emily was a bit taken aback and things might have got even more ugly, but Oliver suddenly appeared to usher his wife away. Emily was surprised to see him turn and mouth 'sorry' to her as they left through a fire exit.
Shannon was in tears and Emily consoled her. Stephen brought them drinks and made sure the photo album was taken safely back to their suite upstairs.
"How did your mum even see it?"
"I just thought Stephen would like to... you know. I thought it would get him going, it's our wedding night after all. So, I was showing him, and I didn't realise she was looking over my shoulder, and..."
"Right. I see. Well, obviously I think she's overreacting, but it probably seems a lot worse now than it will in the morning. I'm sure when she calms down..."
"Calms down! She didn't speak to me for a week when she found out I'd sunbathed topless when I was eighteen years old. She's a real Victorian type. Honestly, I don't know what dad sees in her, she's so cold and angry!"
"OK, but still, she's your mother, and I don't think it's right for you to talk to her like that."
Shannon saw what Emily was trying to do, and she understood.
"Oh, I'm sorry Emily. There was no need for you to get dragged into all this. It's really nothing to do with you."
"That's not true though, is it? Even putting aside the fact that I arranged for the photo shoot, can you honestly tell me that you would have done that if you hadn't seen all the things I've been doing?"
Emily felt quite proud that she was a slutty role model to her daughter-in-law, deep down. She wondered what it would be like to have a daughter of her own. She loved Stephen, but it was nice to have a female looking up to her.
They talked for some time, the party went on and soon Stephen and Shannon were dancing and enjoying themselves, Michelle's outburst forgotten for the time being.
Emily deflected advance after advance from most of Stephen's friends, who seemed to make up the overwhelming majority of single men in attendance. The drink, the music and the mass of good-looking people, all having fun, was making her horny.
She was starting to think about going back over to the pub opposite again. Maybe those guys from last time would like another little show. She had enjoyed that.
Emily got a shock when Oliver sat down beside her. He was looking really handsome in his suit, she thought. She felt sorry for him, having to placate his furious wife.
"I'm really sorry about all that. Michelle's... she's not like you." That was quite the understatement, Emily thought. "It was a long day, and she doesn't usually drink. She's flat out now up in the room."
"It's fine," Emily said truthfully. She really didn't mind at all, in fact having the word 'slut' hurled at her so publicly gave her quite a rush. "I'm sure she will calm down in the morning."
"You clearly don't know Michelle," Oliver said, resigned. "She's like a dog with a bone. There's more to follow with this. I'm really sorry you got dragged into it."
"Well, I guess we're all family now, so I dragged myself in. I know Shannon's your daughter, you must worry a bit about her looking up to me. Without being big-headed, I can see the effect my influence is having on her -- just look at those photos!"
"I haven't looked, and I don't think I will, thanks," Oliver smiled wryly. "But I think I can guess what Michelle saw. And after living in a sexless marriage for twenty years, all I can say is that I'm glad Shannon and Stephen don't look likely to suffer the same fate."
Emily liked Oliver. They talked, and the conversation centred around sex. Given Emily's new career, and the two previous encounters they'd had, it was very frank and to the point.
"I'd even forgotten how to, you know, wank, until you woke me up that day."
Emily loved that Oliver could just come out with it like that. She remembered that day fondly. Oliver was lucky enough to come into her shop when she was feeling frisky and at her insistence had changed his purchase from a copy of 'The Daily Telegraph' to a copy of 'Park Lane', featuring the naked Emily displaying herself shamelessly.
No idea that this was Shannon's father she was arousing, on his next visit to her shop Emily, overcome with a wanton lust for strange encounters, had taken Oliver's very premature ejaculation into her mouth and swallowed it down with a smile.
She could feel a real connection and warmth building with Oliver. But this could not be allowed to grow -- not least due to the fact that Oliver was married, and Shannon's father. But also, because Emily knew where that might lead. A relationship, which would inevitably end in restriction, jealousy, control, claustrophobia.
But she had an itch, and it needed scratching. In the spirit of the frank conversation they were having, she laid it on the table.
"Oliver, I'm just going to say this. You are very aware of what I like -- what I AM like, I mean. Right now, I'm feeling lovely -- super horny. Last time I was here and feeling just like this, I found myself at the pub over the road there. I love to show off - you know that - and I ended up very satisfied with a beer bottle right up inside me, three guys watching me do it."
She paused for effect. Oliver's jaw was loose and his eyes wide. Emily kept eye contact with him, finishing off her glass of wine before continuing.
"I'm thinking they might like a repeat performance," she smiled sweetly. "So, I'm going to make my excuses and leave, and go over there and see what's what."
She gathered her purse and jacket and stood.
"If you happened to be over there, you might get a little show too, you never know." With a wink, she turned and left Oliver sitting there.
Emily made her goodbyes and left. Asking the same girl who'd booked her taxi last time to get her another for half an hour's time, she headed over to the 'Spread Eagle'.
She was delighted when the scene that greeted her was very similar to last time. However, this time there were only two guys present -- the youngish man who she presumed was the landlord, and a drinker who she thought had been one of the guys in attendance last time - it was hard to remember.
"Hello again!" she smiled brightly as she entered. Both men's jaws dropped. No doubt her previous visit to the pub had gone down as a thing of legends. And now she was back.
"I thought I'd pop in for a quick drink, I'm waiting for a taxi again."
Quick as a flash there was a bottle of beer on the bar. The two men exchanged a glance and a little snigger.
Oliver sat looking at the seat Emily had just vacated. Just like Emily, he had misgivings. He had found his thoughts drifting back to Shannon's mother-in-law all the time. This was unsurprising given her penchant for performing sexual acts his wife didn't even dream of, even when they were at the stage of their relationship Shannon and Stephen were just embarking on.
Emily had made it abundantly clear that she was, when she decided, available for fun, sexy encounters, but nothing more than that was on the table. This should have been a dream, but it gave him misgivings. Oliver was an old-fashioned guy. Pursuing a woman who was such a free spirit, who sought out illicit sexual liaisons as a dog seeks a bone, seemed like something he shouldn't be doing.
But over the past few months, every chance he got, Oliver found himself looking, hypnotised, at the incredible Emily and her love affair with the camera. She was so uniquely comfortable and forthcoming showing off that incredible body.
It wasn't just her body, he was realising. Oliver was uniquely comfortable in Emily's company. Able to relax, to just say what he thought and not what he'd been trained to say, trained to think. That was a new feeling, and one he was starting to crave.
Emily's body was a big part of the attraction. Of course it was. The word hourglass might have been invented to describe it; she was just perfect. Those amazing breasts were so firm, so perfectly sized. He imagined burying his face between them, suffocating himself in that warm, inviting flesh.
Oliver dreamed of feeling his tongue against the hairless skin of the pussy he'd stared at for so many hours. He would slip it between those lips, slide inside and taste the glistening, juicy hole that all the guys in town were so familiar with.
He'd pin her against the wall, his hand gripping her hair, holding her still as he slid into that slippery little cunt from behind. And she'd love it. Of course she would. Because she was a slut. A complete, unashamed slut. This was the challenge, something he needed to understand. She'd never be his, his alone.
It was hardly fair to expect that body to be kept under wraps, was it? Yes, she loved it, she loved men, loved hard cocks, and not just his.
Michelle hated hard cocks, that was clear. Their marriage was purely one of convenience now, financial and logical reasons the only thing that kept them together. That women like Emily existed had been a revelation to him. And that revelation was currently up to no good over the road.
Oliver crossed to the Spread Eagle and walked in. There was only one other customer. Maybe Emily had decided against it. Thinking that he may as well get a drink, he walked up to the bar, where the barman stood with a look of embarrassment on his face.
"Pint of lager please," he said, digging in his pocket.
"Oliver! You made it!" Emily appeared, rising from the position she'd adopted on her knees behind the bar. Oliver knew her in that position very well. Her breasts hung free and her knickers were around her knees. Leaning over the bar, the barman's stiff cock, and Emily's little grin, was evidence of what she'd been doing. But she decided to elaborate anyway.
"These guys got a little show last time, but I left them hanging a bit. So, I thought it only fair that I finish the job, as it were."
The bizarre transaction of watching a pint be poured, money taken and change returned whilst the barman was having his dick sucked by Emily was unusual to say the least. Oliver had thought that witnessing Emily with another man first-hand might instigate jealousy, but in fact he found himself hugely aroused.
Emily invited the other two guys around and soon she was surrounded by three cocks which she proceeded to expertly work with her hands and mouth. She'd had a lot of experience at this now, and it showed.
The young landlord was shooting into the side of Emily's head within a few minutes. Emily took it with delight and continued to work on the other two.
Oliver was in his own little heaven. This was incredible. There was no guilt, no shame, no worry, none of the feelings he typically associated with sex. There was just Emily, completely dedicated to her mission of getting cocks hard and bringing them off, wherever she could.
Oliver and the other guy gave her what she wanted and her expression as she took their two loads at once was akin to a prisoner who hadn't seen daylight for years feeling the sun's rays on her face.
Their timing was impeccable, and the taxi pulled up over the road. Emily heard the beep and rose to her feet, stuffing her breasts back into her dress and wiping cum into her mouth. She left the three men slightly embarrassed, dicks hanging free, but very satisfied.
*******
It was two weeks after the wedding.
"I think you're going to want to see this."
Shannon had called Emily into the shop and her tone told Emily that it wasn't something trivial that could be discussed over the phone. Emily called in within half an hour - she didn't have much better to do that day.
She was greeted by her new daughter in law, looking amazingly healthy and tanned after her honeymoon in the Maldives. Shannon looked like she was going to burst but served her customer and waited until she left before turning to Emily in excitement.
"So," she began, a wicked expression on her face.
Emily felt like this was going to be good. She wondered if it was the environment of the shop, the constant stream of guys buying their wanking material day after day corrupting her like it had corrupted her mother-in-law. Whatever the cause, Shannon reminded Emily of herself more and more each day.
"Well, I had a visit from Gavin, one of Stephen's friends this morning. He's just got back from Spain, that lads holiday Stephen had to miss as we were on honeymoon. Anyway, he did some shopping when he was over there..."
Shannon delved under the counter and pulled out a magazine. It was a bit different from the ones they stocked in the newsagents, a bit smaller. But it was unmistakenly a porn magazine.
The picture on the front made it crystal clear that this wasn't one of the magazines they usually stocked. On the cover was a beautiful woman, smiling out at the reader, as two penises fired a jet of semen into her face simultaneously.
It was a familiar picture, because it was one of Emily's favourites. The face was Emily's. She was on the cover of the porn magazine, which appeared to be called simply 'Fuck!'.
"Fuck!" Emily repeated in wonder.
The shoot inside went across twelve pages. A few shots of Emily naked, followed by her being given, and enjoying, several cocks, each of which left her splattered in more and more semen.
Shannon was delighted to be the one to show Emily. She knew her mother-in-law would love it, and she was right.
The girls chattered excitedly. Any shock or misgivings Shannon might have had with this sort of thing in the past had long gone now; she was completely on Emily's wavelength.
"It's ironic that it's called 'Fuck'," Emily laughed, "because that's the one thing I don't do in these shots."
"Do you think you will, one day?" Shannon asked curiously.
"Yes, definitely. It's quite nice though, you know, keeping the guys waiting." Shannon seemed to understand. Emily knew that Michelle's fear, that she was corrupting her daughter, was completely legitimate. But Shannon seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the corruption process, and Emily was enjoying having a sounding-board for her darkest secrets and desires.
She came back to today's news.
"Gavin, you say?" Emily could picture Gavin from the wedding. He was one of many who had made inappropriate advances to her. He'd been Stephen's friend since **************, as had most of the group that had just returned from Benidorm.
"Yeah. They just got back yesterday, all nine of them. He was hoping to find you here I think, when he popped in."
"I bet he was," Emily murmured, flicking through the illicit publication, content illegal to sell in the UK.
"He said for the last week of the holiday, all the guys kept taking it in turns in the bathroom with your pictures," she smiled. She knew Emily would love this and enjoyed seeing the look of filthy delight flash across her face.
"Dirty bastards," she smiled. "I can still remember when they were coming round for jelly and ice-cream!" She suddenly had a sobering thought. "What about Stephen? Shit, he's not going to like this!" Her son had previously not been impressed with Emily's antics.
"He doesn't know, but, honestly, I wouldn't worry, he'll be fine. I've been working on him, we had lots of time to discuss everything on the honeymoon -- and by the way, I have to thank you again for that, what a present!"
Emily had paid for a dream two-week vacation to the Maldives. She smiled, pleased at her new daughter-in-law's gratitude.
The fact that Shannon thought her son wouldn't mind the fact that all his friends had been masturbating over pictures of his mother sucking multiple cocks intrigued Emily, but she had more pressing matters to attend to now. She was straight on the phone to Alan.
She knew Alan had been selling her harder photosets to the foreign market, where it was legal. But the reality of that had just hit home. She hadn't really thought that it may come home so dramatically. But now it had, Emily had an urgent need to find out more.
"I can't really answer that," was his response when Emily quizzed Alan about exactly which publications she was appearing in. "The guy I use, he then sells on to the individual magazines. I just courier the pictures to him. I can give you his number if you like? He lives in Amsterdam."
*******
Three days later, Emily was on a ferry from Newcastle to Imjuden, the passenger port serving Amsterdam. She had intended to fly, but the earliest flight she could get was two days later, and she couldn't wait any longer.
Other than the speed, or lack of it, Emily actually liked the boat as a form of transport. She'd never travelled this way before and found it much more civilised than plane or train. Rather than being squeezed onto a tin can and hurtled towards her destination, she instead could wander the decks, visit bars and restaurants, and chat to fellow guests. She actually felt like she was on holiday from the moment she stepped onto the ferry.
The journey was nice. Although she'd, as usual, dressed to be enjoyed, she hadn't sought out any liaisons on the boat, possibly due to the shoot she'd done the previous night, where, as usual, she'd brought multiple cocks to a messy climax over her naked body, as the guys attended to her with toys, fingers, tongues and any phallic object that could be found. So, she was feeling quite satisfied, sexually, for the time being.
Although it was now months since she'd conceded that she was going to need to be fucked during these camera club sessions, she still hadn't acted on it. That last little taboo, that will-she-won't-she lent a certain anticipation to proceedings. A few times she'd watched a hard cock approaching her wet, open cunt during a shoot, and allowed it to be pushed against her thighs, her belly, even her anus.
This made for some lovely pictures -- so much better than those soft, floppy guys on the top shelf in her shop. But just as a penis made an attempt to gain access, she'd divert it, change position, populate its target with another foreign object to prevent it completing its mission.
But as well as teasing the guys, each close encounter left her slightly more frustrated. She was so ready for it, to feel hard, warm meat inside her again, to have her whole body bounced and banged, to feel and hear the slapping of skin against skin as someone hammered into her.
She'd even taken to talking to her desperate cunt as she masturbated recently, promising it would get what it needed soon.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you get a nice stretching soon," she'd whisper gently. "I'm going to give you lots of nice hard cock, you'll see!"
Lovely, filthy thoughts spun around her head as she sipped her cocktail, deliberately opting to stand at the bar so she could be seen. Shannon had put a name to Emily's 'condition', as she lovingly called it. Emily was an exhibitionist.
She thought about this as she glanced around the bar, strange eyes immediately moving away from her legs or cleavage as they met Emily's returning gaze, before resuming their examination of her body as soon as her attention moved elsewhere.
All eyes had been on her the previous evening, and at breakfast she felt that lovely warmth of eyes on her body again as she wandered around the buffet, filling her plate. She was wearing just a light summer dress, no bra, no panties.
She knew that if she wasn't careful, glimpses of her shaven pussy or a nipple were very likely to be seen by any determined onlooker. And who wanted to be careful? She was on holiday.
"Mind if we sit here?" A balding guy around her own age, accompanied by a much younger man with long dark hair, sat down as Emily gestured that it was fine to do so.
"I'm Terry. This is my son, Rowan." Emily nodded politely. Terry was the kind of person who didn't need any encouragement or acknowledgement to speak, and launched into a monologue that went on for some time.
He was a carpet salesman. Rowan was about to start an apprenticeship. His wife had left them when Rowan was in first school. They were going to Amsterdam to celebrate Rowan's eighteenth birthday.
"Between you and me," Rowan dug his dad in the ribs as he lowered his voice. "We're going to take a little look around the red-light district. He's going to get a birthday present he won't forget in a hurry!"
Emily's ears perked up. Terry was taking Rowan to Amsterdam to lose his virginity. That was much more interesting than anything that had gone before -- why had he not led with that? She grinned to herself in the knowledge that, if she'd bumped into them last night with the same story, Rowan might well no longer be a virgin today. The fantasy of breaking in an inexperienced young man was one of her favourites.
"Oh, how sweet!" she smiled. Terry seemed surprised at her reaction. Emily wondered just how many people had been regaled with this story on the journey -- quite a few judging by Rowan's face. "I hope you find the perfect girl and have an amazing time!"
Emily reached over for the salt, making sure both men got a nice long look down her top. She meant to enjoy this trip.
It was a short bus trip into Amsterdam centre. Emily liked the feel of the place immediately. It was a small city, with everything centred around canals which were adorned with lovely little bridges at every turn.
Moreover, the feel of the city was quite unlike any she'd visited before. She was fascinated to see 'normal' businesses alongside sex shops, or cannabis shops called 'coffee shops' existing alongside mainstream businesses.
Wheeling her little case past the canals and amazing tall, thin buildings, Emily felt at home.
Her hotel turned out to be on the edge of the red-light district. A pretty woman in her early thirties welcomed her and showed her to her room. Emily had a little bounce on the bed and went to look out of the window. It was a great view down onto a little square. A café, coffee shop and, she was pleased to note, a sex shop were opposite.
She switched on the TV and had a flick through the channels. She was surprised to see a lot were in English, one appeared to just be the same BBC she'd get at home. But one was definitely not familiar.
Red Hot TV. Warning! Adult content. Please call reception to view.
She wandered back out of her room and down to reception, one very steep flight of stairs down. The same girl greeted her.
"Hi again! I was just wondering -- channel thirty-one, it says I should contact reception if I want to watch it?"
"Sure! Channel thirty-one..." her accent had an American lilt, as with all Europeans whose main point of reference was TV shows. "Oh wait! That's the adult channel, right?"
"Yes, that's it," Emily smiled. "We don't get anything like that back home, so I thought I'd take a look. When in Rome..."
The girl shrugged.
"OK lady. Just know it might not be what you are looking for. No roses or chocolates, eh? Five guilders a day"
That, Emily thought, sounded exactly what she wanted to see. Roses and chocolates she could get any time. She told the girl to keep it on for the duration of her stay.
The hardcore sex that Emily constantly played on channel thirty-one was utterly absorbing. Watching these people -- really good-looking girls, Emily noted, fucking with total abandonment for the camera was like nothing she'd seen before.
Her own photoshoots paled into comparison. Seeing the images move, seeing their expressions, hearing the disgusting sex noises -- it was perfect.
Each scene in that first film she watched was almost identical other than the participants. Girl teases and strips, girl sucks guy's cock, guy gets girl wet with his tongue. Guy fucks girl in three or four positions, then moves from pussy to anus.
Emily watched the anal intently. She adored her steel butt plug and had made up her mind to try this new pleasure at the first opportunity. Each girl who took it up that hole seemed to experience pain at first, just like when Emily tried one of her larger dildos. But, just like Emily, once things were nicely stretched out, pain and pleasure combined on the centre stage for a while before pleasure inevitably won out.
The climax to each scene was the guy giving the girl a load of sperm on her pussy or in her face. This was really fun to watch, but the trailers for upcoming films had Emily waiting for the evening in excited anticipation. Many promised much less 'lovey dovey' (as she termed it) scenes, with some promising orgies, gangbangs and some bondage, women tied up and ********** on the short clips she saw.
She was looking forward to that, but for now she had a meeting.
Jaap Bakker welcomed Emily into his office. As a trader in attractive women, he appreciated her look, fresh and alluring. He could immediately tell she wasn't wearing underwear, and she did so with confidence and pride.
"Mrs Stainthorpe," he offered a hand, before lecherously kissing Emily's as soon as it came within reach.
"Emily, please. Nice to meet you Mr Bakker."
"Jaap," he returned. "You are even more beautiful than in your pictures," he smiled.
"Thank you" That's why I'm here," Emily smiled back. "Alan, he told me that he'd sold all of my pictures to you -- is that right?"
Japp looked a little suspicious for a moment. It was not unheard of for jilted men to vengefully expose their ex-wives or girlfriends, and for the wronged party to start seeking justice. But this didn't feel like that at all. Emily did not have the face or the attitude of someone on the warpath. And he didn't think a woman scorned would dress like Emily, who had crossed her legs to reveal almost everything.
"Yeah, sure. I'm liking the content Alan is giving me recently," he said, looking very blatantly and obviously at the curve of Emily's buttock, the loose material of her dress tantalisingly just concealing her modesty. "It sells really well. You are a natural. And your name is really Emily? Emily Stainthorpe?"
"Thanks! Yes, that's my name -- why?"
"Most girls... every girl I've seen in this industry, they choose a fake name, a fake persona, yes?"
"Oh right, I see. Well, I guess I've got nothing to hide. I'll confess, I really quite like being known for... for what I do."
"Well, you are very good at it. I'm looking forward to the pictures of you fucking all these guys though, eh? You suck the cock real good, sure. And you look amazing all wet with jizz, yeah. But sometimes a guy needs to see a woman fucking. Bang! Bang! Bang! eh?"
Emily giggled. She loved talking like this, discussing her previous appearances in front of the camera, and what she might do in future.
"Noted. Watch this space!" she said happily. "Anyway, did Alan tell you why I'm here?"
"I didn't really get it, I'll be honest. You are looking for work?"
Emily wasn't, but her mind raced to what sort of work she might be offered, before she pulled herself back to reality.
"Alan mentioned that you sell directly to the magazines. I saw myself in 'Fuck!' this month. I was wondering if you could tell me which other magazines I appear in?"
"Oh, well that's easy, sure, no problem. 'Fuck'! Quite a, how you say, subtle name eh?" They both shared a grin as he opened a filing cabinet.
"S, S, St, Stai, Stain - here we go -- Emily Stainthorpe." He took a folder out and pulled the contents onto the desk. Emily felt her heart thumping in her chest as a full-face, A4 sized glossy shot of her with a cock all the way down her throat slid out. She was on file in this strange country, miles from home.
"Beautiful, yes," Jaap murmured at these shots. "Ah, yes, here we go. I'll write them down for you."
Jaap proceeded to make note of each sale of Emily's photos.
"Here. I make note because I get paid on publication. So here is every magazine you've appeared in -- you are becoming really popular, no?"
Emily took the paper from Jaap and read through. Some of the names were hilarious: 'Big Climax', 'Cock and Cunt', 'Maximum pleasure'. Each entry was accompanied by an issue number and a date.
"Oh, this is perfect -- thank you so much!" Emily smiled. "I'm so grateful -- is there anything I can do for you?"
This meant exactly what it sounded like. Emily had been picturing her meeting with the famous pornographer and assumed that sucking his cock was the accepted way to conclude such a meeting.
Jaap wasn't going to refuse the offer, and Emily was soon sucking his modest penis. He didn't even close his door, his secretary carrying on about her business as Emily used her pretty face to get him off.
"That's a good girl, Emily Stainthorpe, you like a cock fucking your face, no? I see in your pictures. This is a girl; she fucking loves it." Emily nodded and smiled at him in encouragement. She noticed that he didn't even look at her, preferring to leaf through the pictures of her he had on file until he filled her grateful mouth.
"Thank you so much," she smiled, wiping a trickle of semen from her chin and sucking her fingers clean.
"Thank you, Emily," Jaap replied, putting his spent cock away. "I look forward to Alan sending me plenty more pictures, eh?"
"Definitely!" Emily said happily...
She did have a few **** thoughts, though. She was fairly certain that she'd spotted some of her 'pervs' at the previous party.
Eily referred to the guys who frequented her shop and bought their porn from her as her 'pervs'. And she knew that the camera club's burgeoning membership had begun to include increasing numbers of those same pervs.
In the few months since she took over her now deceased husband's newsagents, she'd become quite the celebrity with the male population of the town. She'd quickly gone from serving them their adult magazines with a smile, through appearing on the covers herself, to taking part in weekly photoshoots with the camera club.
Photoshoot was one way to describe it, but each evening ended with most of the guys getting to grips with her famous body, and she'd inevitably end up covered in the sperm of most of the members of the club. The membership of the club had, unsurprisingly, increased dramatically since Emily had begun her regular sessions there.
She knew many of those guys would be in attendance today, but Emily couldn't really put names to faces.
It was hard to be certain who was who. She was always blinded by the bright studio lights. Besides, her own focus was almost always on the cocks which surrounded her, she had little interest for their owners when she was in the heat of the moment.
But she knew that it was inevitable that she'd be bumping into men who not only had seen her naked and masturbating across the pages of countless magazines, but it was almost certain guys would be in attendance who had fingered her, brought her to orgasm and used her mouth and throat with abandon before using her as a sperm deposit point.
She knew this should be causing her concern, trepidation, even fear about what might happen. But the fact that all she felt was arousal said it all. She was looking forward to whatever the day may bring.
Today, though, was about Stephen and Shannon. Emily felt almost the same pride in her new daughter-in-law as her own son, so close had they grown recently. She felt a tear as Shannon appeared, stunning in white. And her own son Stephen was a real handsome young man. A credit to her.
Vows were exchanged and there were smiles and tears of happiness all around. Outside, Emily joined the other guests in showering the happy couple with rice and confetti. She was a little taken aback when Shannon's bouquet, thrown blindly over her head, landed neatly in her arms.
An extended photo session in the church grounds followed. Emily was included in lots of the groups as mother of the groom. She was very experienced in front of the camera these days, but her clothes remained very much on this time.
The party then moved, in several cars and one large, old style London bus, to the same hotel where the engagement party had taken place several months earlier. The guests were crammed on board and, during the journey Emily was interested to feel a guy's crotch pressing firmly into her rear. Turning to see who it was, she half-recognised a guy who she thought was probably one of her pervs.
She made no obvious reaction but allowed him to use the natural uneven motion of the bus to regularly jab a penis which got firmer by the second into her behind. It felt quite nice. As they disembarked at the hotel, she saw the guy turn to his wife (she presumed), who had been chatting to a friend for the whole journey.
He had one hand in his pocket, no doubt restraining the full erection which Emily had encouraged him to achieve on the journey. She smiled to herself. This was quite a nice arrangement. She definitely noticed quite a few familiar faces. If all the guys had wives, then they were effectively muzzled. They all knew Emily was a slut but couldn't really do anything about it. It gave her at least a chance of playing the role of wholesome mother of the groom, mother-in-law, guest at a wedding.
And it also gave her a lovely feeling. That guy may well have had his cock in her mouth. Maybe he liked to finger Emily. He might be one of the guys whose tongue had been finding its way to her eager little clit recently. She would almost certainly have tasted his cum. That was a hot thought.
What was just as hot was the realisation, again, that she really had no idea whose fingers and tongues had been inside her, or who's cum she'd swallowed. There were so many, the studio was so dark and the lights so blinding. She loved this. She couldn't say with any real authority that any of the guys in attendance today hadn't had their cock in her mouth. That thought made her wet.
Emily knew that some would find her behaviour disgraceful, scandalous and totally immoral. A lot of these guys were married men. She'd be called a homewrecker, a whore, a harlot.
She had very little time for this train of thought. If they were worried about their man straying, they should just fuck him more often. Or suck his cock before he left the house. She couldn't really fathom why it would bother them though. If she had a 'regular' man, she would certainly not begrudge him some fun with another sexy woman.
Her eyes had been well and truly opened by the relationship of Will, the chairman of the camera club and his wife, Anne. Anne had, many years ago, been the regular model for the camera club back in its inception. Which translated to Will and all his friends fucking her each week and recording all the details on the thousands of photos which they treasured.
Anne and Will had a relationship the like of which Emily hadn't come across before, and which she'd started to envy. They were so happy and comfortable with each other, despite, or perhaps because of, the lack of boundaries and invisible barriers most couples drew up.
At the hotel the champagne flowed and the music played. Emily's eyes lingered on the many couples there, wondering if any were as lucky as Anne and Will.
The happy couple took the first dance, and silence descended for the speeches. Emily enjoyed the best man's effort. She'd known Kevin since he wasn't long out of nappies, and he had lots of amusing anecdotes about her son.
Then came the father of the bride speech. Emily knew she should probably feel guilty, but all she got was a warm feeling seeing Oliver in his suit. Twice now she'd been responsible for the Oliver producing a lovely load of cum for her. She could almost taste it right now.
Michelle, his wife, didn't really pay much attention to his speech, she was too busy organising dinner or something, Emily supposed. The speech went well, and a real party atmosphere built.
At dinner, Emily was seated with Oliver and Michelle, another couple she'd never met before, and a guy she was certain she'd seen at the camera club, who was also with his wife. She loved this. Two guys whose cocks she had sucked were politely having dinner with their wives and making small talk with her.
The couple she didn't know had been whispering together throughout the starter, Emily could feel their eyes on her. Once the table had been cleared, the woman, who was probably about ten years older than Emily, spoke up.
"Hi, we've not been properly introduced. I'm Susan, and this is Ant." Emily offered a hand, and it was shaken. "Listen, I wondered -- I don't think we're mistaken. Do you... are you a model?"
There had been enough champagne past Emily's lips to prevent her mind freezing up, but she recognised that her answer would be heard with interest by the table. Her eye caught Michelle's -- did she know? She wondered if Susan and Ant liked to look at porn together and had seen Emily at her finest. She hoped so. But she very much doubted Michelle would be impressed that her daughter had married the son of a porn star.
Emily was not inclined to lie or hide though. She knew some people wouldn't like it -- would very much dislike it -- but she was fiercely proud of the exciting, seedy career she'd forged. Michelle most certainly would not like it, but that wasn't Emily's problem.
"Well, I am, as it happens," she smiled, taking the bull by the horns.
"Really?" Michelle interjected immediately. "But you run the newsagents!"
"Well, I don't, really, anymore. Your daughter is very much running that shop, and what an amazing job she's doing!" Emily smiled graciously. Michelle took the bait and Emily thought conversation may have been steered away from the dangerous path it looked like taking for a little while.
Shannon's business acumen and extremely capable personality were discussed and complimented. Emily didn't mention that Michelle and Oliver's daughter had started to show a keen interest in the vast catalogue of pornography she stocked in her shop, nor that she was growing to share Emily's illicit thrill at selling dirty magazines to all the men in town.
She also didn't let on that she was sure Shannon had been using Emily's sex toys throughout the day, judging by the number of empty batteries Emily saw in the bin any time she looked.
And she certainly didn't mention the time, just a few weeks ago, when Shannon's racy photoshoot, a surprise wedding present for her fiancé, Stephen, ended in Michelle's daughter bringing herself to a shuddering climax in front of Emily, the photographer and his wife.
The subject appeared to have changed, but Susan wasn't ready to move on. She had a real glint in her eye which told Emily that she was absolutely aware of Emily's fame. She didn't show any disapproval, but she wasn't going to let it go.
"Emily, is that right? Your real name?" Emily felt a beautiful shiver run down her spine. 'Her real name'. She had very deliberately opted against a pseudonym or alter-ego for her modelling. She had, right from the beginning, pictured situations like this one and dreamed about where they might end up.
Emily liked being in the spotlight, attention and shame being thrown at her from all angles. Her smile was lighting up the table.
"Yes, it is. I've got no reason to change it, nothing to hide," she smiled.
"Very little to hide, from what we've seen!" Emily thought she liked Susan. By no means good looking physically, she and her husband seemed to share a real connection. She wondered if their relationship was like Anne and Will's. They were very comfortable in this situation. Oliver, on the other hand, was very much not.
"Right, so it must be about time for the main course?" He was looking around urgently.
"What sort of modelling do you do?" Michelle asked. It was said casually, but her lack of eye contact and the measured nature of the question told Emily she was digging.
"Glamour," Emily said immediately and with a smile. A troupe of waitresses suddenly appeared with the main course, braised pork with apples and cider. This slowed conversation for a little while, and Oliver was praying the train of thought would be lost. But as soon as the food was finished, Michelle returned to the theme. She must have been thinking long and hard throughout dinner.
"Glamour modelling -- exactly what does that entail?" she asked pointedly. Emily was onto her fourth or fifth glass of champagne.
"Oh, well, it's..."
"Like catalogue modelling, right?" interjected Oliver a little desperately.
"Not the sort of catalogues I get through my door!" said Ant, and Susan slapped him playfully on the arm, the pair of them descending into fits of giggles. The other couple watched on in silence. Emily guessed the guy, another regular at her photoshoots, was as reticent as Oliver for this conversation to continue where it was going, into territory his wife may not approve of.
"So what exactly does 'Glamour' modelling entail then? Michelle fixed the mother of her son-in-law with an intense look. Emily held her gaze and smiled brightly.
"Not quite catalogue, but I do a lot of magazine work," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice.
"I see. And is it... is it lucrative?"
"Very! But I don't do it for the money. Well, I mean, the money is nice, but it's great fun, I really enjoy it."
"I see," Michelle said slowly. "Are we... we aren't talking about topless work surely? At your age?"
Emily felt a little surge of annoyance at this. 'At her age'? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Emily had a body as good as Michelle's daughter who was not long out of her teens. Michelle was fat, frumpy and dowdy. She managed to gather herself, but decided to give Michelle what she probably didn't want to hear -- the truth.
"Well yes, topless. But if I'm honest, I don't think I've ever done a shoot where topless was the end of it."
"Quite!" said Susan. Emily wondered how well she and Ant knew Oliver and Michelle. They didn't seem to have much in common. "It takes a bit more than a flash of a boob to get Ant here going... Cucumber?"
She'd taken a piece of cucumber from her plate and fed it to her husband. Emily recognised the reference immediately. They had definitely seen Emily's encounter with a cucumber in 'Shaven Havens'.
"Thanks. I wonder what's for pudding. Maybe a banana split?" The pair descended into fits of laughter. Emily knew they had also enjoyed watching her ram a thick banana up herself, the highlight of the March copy of the same publication.
Michelle was now feeling very uncomfortable. As soon as the main course was finished, she got up and left without excusing herself. Oliver followed, dutifully.
Emily sat and chatted politely with Suan and Ant for a while, feeling quite the celebrity. Susan was the rare type who didn't disapprove of her husband's interest in the type of work Emily liked to do. It was nice to hear nothing but approval, Susan even going so far as to say that if she'd had Emily's body, she would do exactly the same.
And so, Emily was feeling really good as the lights dimmed and the evening began. Michelle would have to find out sooner or later. Hopefully she would come to terms with it and all would be fine between them. But if not, she didn't really care. Only her relationships with people she respected mattered to her.
She noticed that the dark lights and flowing alcohol made a few of the guys with partners a little less careful in where their eyes went. But none approached her. A few younger ones who weren't attached were less restrained, and Emily agreed to a dance with more than one of Stephen's friends
She was very careful not to do anything that might cause her daughter-in-law a scandal, firmly removing the hands that kept finding their way too close to her buttocks or breasts as they danced. But she did it with a smile -- she was enjoying the attention.
However, scandal was to come and, surprisingly, it had little to do with Emily -- not directly anyway. Around ten-thirty there was a bit of a furore at the far end of the room. Emily recognised Shannon, Stephen and Michelle were having what looked like a shouting match. She rushed over, to be greeted by a furious Michelle, shouting in her face.
"Don't tell me this is nothing to do with you! Shannon would never dream of doing anything like this, then she starts working for a SLUT and THIS happens!"
Emily didn't reply, mostly because she had no idea what Michelle's problem was. But she did quite like being called a slut so loudly and publicly by Michelle. Being outed, named and shamed as a slut was one of her dirty little fantasies.
"Mum! That's not fair! I'm an adult for god's sake -- I'm a married woman! I'm allowed to do whatever I want!"
"Yes, and that just happens to be exactly what this..." Michelle seemed to struggle to find the right word, as 'slut' didn't seem to affect Emily as she'd hoped. "What this WHORE likes to do in her spare time!"
"I hardly think posing for some sexy pictures for my husband is the same as..." Shannon stopped herself for fear of digging a hole for her mother-in-law. Emily saw a photo album on the table and guessed what had happened. Michelle had somehow seen the shoot of Shannon in her wedding dress.
"I'm really sorry you are upset Michelle," Emily smiled gently, "Shannon thought it would be a nice wedding present for Stephen, so I put her in touch with some people I know. I didn't think it would be a problem!" Her tone was like a patient mother consoling a *******, and only seemed to infuriate Michelle even further.
"Some people you know? Perverts and pimps? If I'd realised what Shannon was marrying into, I'd have..."
"You'd have what!?" Shannon interjected, face full of rage which rivalled her mothers. "Emily's been amazing to me, I've got a great job now thanks to her, and I'm really happy. She's been more of a mother to me in the past few months than you have in your whole life!"
This hurt and Emily didn't like being there for it. The music was continuing and although several guests were taking notice now, the scene wasn't as big as it could have been. She moved towards Michelle to try to placate her, but she was pushed away roughly.
"More of a mother? This?" she gestured at Emily like she was a piece of dirt. "All she's done for you is show you how to open your legs!"
Emily was a bit taken aback and things might have got even more ugly, but Oliver suddenly appeared to usher his wife away. Emily was surprised to see him turn and mouth 'sorry' to her as they left through a fire exit.
Shannon was in tears and Emily consoled her. Stephen brought them drinks and made sure the photo album was taken safely back to their suite upstairs.
"How did your mum even see it?"
"I just thought Stephen would like to... you know. I thought it would get him going, it's our wedding night after all. So, I was showing him, and I didn't realise she was looking over my shoulder, and..."
"Right. I see. Well, obviously I think she's overreacting, but it probably seems a lot worse now than it will in the morning. I'm sure when she calms down..."
"Calms down! She didn't speak to me for a week when she found out I'd sunbathed topless when I was eighteen years old. She's a real Victorian type. Honestly, I don't know what dad sees in her, she's so cold and angry!"
"OK, but still, she's your mother, and I don't think it's right for you to talk to her like that."
Shannon saw what Emily was trying to do, and she understood.
"Oh, I'm sorry Emily. There was no need for you to get dragged into all this. It's really nothing to do with you."
"That's not true though, is it? Even putting aside the fact that I arranged for the photo shoot, can you honestly tell me that you would have done that if you hadn't seen all the things I've been doing?"
Emily felt quite proud that she was a slutty role model to her daughter-in-law, deep down. She wondered what it would be like to have a daughter of her own. She loved Stephen, but it was nice to have a female looking up to her.
They talked for some time, the party went on and soon Stephen and Shannon were dancing and enjoying themselves, Michelle's outburst forgotten for the time being.
Emily deflected advance after advance from most of Stephen's friends, who seemed to make up the overwhelming majority of single men in attendance. The drink, the music and the mass of good-looking people, all having fun, was making her horny.
She was starting to think about going back over to the pub opposite again. Maybe those guys from last time would like another little show. She had enjoyed that.
Emily got a shock when Oliver sat down beside her. He was looking really handsome in his suit, she thought. She felt sorry for him, having to placate his furious wife.
"I'm really sorry about all that. Michelle's... she's not like you." That was quite the understatement, Emily thought. "It was a long day, and she doesn't usually drink. She's flat out now up in the room."
"It's fine," Emily said truthfully. She really didn't mind at all, in fact having the word 'slut' hurled at her so publicly gave her quite a rush. "I'm sure she will calm down in the morning."
"You clearly don't know Michelle," Oliver said, resigned. "She's like a dog with a bone. There's more to follow with this. I'm really sorry you got dragged into it."
"Well, I guess we're all family now, so I dragged myself in. I know Shannon's your daughter, you must worry a bit about her looking up to me. Without being big-headed, I can see the effect my influence is having on her -- just look at those photos!"
"I haven't looked, and I don't think I will, thanks," Oliver smiled wryly. "But I think I can guess what Michelle saw. And after living in a sexless marriage for twenty years, all I can say is that I'm glad Shannon and Stephen don't look likely to suffer the same fate."
Emily liked Oliver. They talked, and the conversation centred around sex. Given Emily's new career, and the two previous encounters they'd had, it was very frank and to the point.
"I'd even forgotten how to, you know, wank, until you woke me up that day."
Emily loved that Oliver could just come out with it like that. She remembered that day fondly. Oliver was lucky enough to come into her shop when she was feeling frisky and at her insistence had changed his purchase from a copy of 'The Daily Telegraph' to a copy of 'Park Lane', featuring the naked Emily displaying herself shamelessly.
No idea that this was Shannon's father she was arousing, on his next visit to her shop Emily, overcome with a wanton lust for strange encounters, had taken Oliver's very premature ejaculation into her mouth and swallowed it down with a smile.
She could feel a real connection and warmth building with Oliver. But this could not be allowed to grow -- not least due to the fact that Oliver was married, and Shannon's father. But also, because Emily knew where that might lead. A relationship, which would inevitably end in restriction, jealousy, control, claustrophobia.
But she had an itch, and it needed scratching. In the spirit of the frank conversation they were having, she laid it on the table.
"Oliver, I'm just going to say this. You are very aware of what I like -- what I AM like, I mean. Right now, I'm feeling lovely -- super horny. Last time I was here and feeling just like this, I found myself at the pub over the road there. I love to show off - you know that - and I ended up very satisfied with a beer bottle right up inside me, three guys watching me do it."
She paused for effect. Oliver's jaw was loose and his eyes wide. Emily kept eye contact with him, finishing off her glass of wine before continuing.
"I'm thinking they might like a repeat performance," she smiled sweetly. "So, I'm going to make my excuses and leave, and go over there and see what's what."
She gathered her purse and jacket and stood.
"If you happened to be over there, you might get a little show too, you never know." With a wink, she turned and left Oliver sitting there.
Emily made her goodbyes and left. Asking the same girl who'd booked her taxi last time to get her another for half an hour's time, she headed over to the 'Spread Eagle'.
She was delighted when the scene that greeted her was very similar to last time. However, this time there were only two guys present -- the youngish man who she presumed was the landlord, and a drinker who she thought had been one of the guys in attendance last time - it was hard to remember.
"Hello again!" she smiled brightly as she entered. Both men's jaws dropped. No doubt her previous visit to the pub had gone down as a thing of legends. And now she was back.
"I thought I'd pop in for a quick drink, I'm waiting for a taxi again."
Quick as a flash there was a bottle of beer on the bar. The two men exchanged a glance and a little snigger.
Oliver sat looking at the seat Emily had just vacated. Just like Emily, he had misgivings. He had found his thoughts drifting back to Shannon's mother-in-law all the time. This was unsurprising given her penchant for performing sexual acts his wife didn't even dream of, even when they were at the stage of their relationship Shannon and Stephen were just embarking on.
Emily had made it abundantly clear that she was, when she decided, available for fun, sexy encounters, but nothing more than that was on the table. This should have been a dream, but it gave him misgivings. Oliver was an old-fashioned guy. Pursuing a woman who was such a free spirit, who sought out illicit sexual liaisons as a dog seeks a bone, seemed like something he shouldn't be doing.
But over the past few months, every chance he got, Oliver found himself looking, hypnotised, at the incredible Emily and her love affair with the camera. She was so uniquely comfortable and forthcoming showing off that incredible body.
It wasn't just her body, he was realising. Oliver was uniquely comfortable in Emily's company. Able to relax, to just say what he thought and not what he'd been trained to say, trained to think. That was a new feeling, and one he was starting to crave.
Emily's body was a big part of the attraction. Of course it was. The word hourglass might have been invented to describe it; she was just perfect. Those amazing breasts were so firm, so perfectly sized. He imagined burying his face between them, suffocating himself in that warm, inviting flesh.
Oliver dreamed of feeling his tongue against the hairless skin of the pussy he'd stared at for so many hours. He would slip it between those lips, slide inside and taste the glistening, juicy hole that all the guys in town were so familiar with.
He'd pin her against the wall, his hand gripping her hair, holding her still as he slid into that slippery little cunt from behind. And she'd love it. Of course she would. Because she was a slut. A complete, unashamed slut. This was the challenge, something he needed to understand. She'd never be his, his alone.
It was hardly fair to expect that body to be kept under wraps, was it? Yes, she loved it, she loved men, loved hard cocks, and not just his.
Michelle hated hard cocks, that was clear. Their marriage was purely one of convenience now, financial and logical reasons the only thing that kept them together. That women like Emily existed had been a revelation to him. And that revelation was currently up to no good over the road.
Oliver crossed to the Spread Eagle and walked in. There was only one other customer. Maybe Emily had decided against it. Thinking that he may as well get a drink, he walked up to the bar, where the barman stood with a look of embarrassment on his face.
"Pint of lager please," he said, digging in his pocket.
"Oliver! You made it!" Emily appeared, rising from the position she'd adopted on her knees behind the bar. Oliver knew her in that position very well. Her breasts hung free and her knickers were around her knees. Leaning over the bar, the barman's stiff cock, and Emily's little grin, was evidence of what she'd been doing. But she decided to elaborate anyway.
"These guys got a little show last time, but I left them hanging a bit. So, I thought it only fair that I finish the job, as it were."
The bizarre transaction of watching a pint be poured, money taken and change returned whilst the barman was having his dick sucked by Emily was unusual to say the least. Oliver had thought that witnessing Emily with another man first-hand might instigate jealousy, but in fact he found himself hugely aroused.
Emily invited the other two guys around and soon she was surrounded by three cocks which she proceeded to expertly work with her hands and mouth. She'd had a lot of experience at this now, and it showed.
The young landlord was shooting into the side of Emily's head within a few minutes. Emily took it with delight and continued to work on the other two.
Oliver was in his own little heaven. This was incredible. There was no guilt, no shame, no worry, none of the feelings he typically associated with sex. There was just Emily, completely dedicated to her mission of getting cocks hard and bringing them off, wherever she could.
Oliver and the other guy gave her what she wanted and her expression as she took their two loads at once was akin to a prisoner who hadn't seen daylight for years feeling the sun's rays on her face.
Their timing was impeccable, and the taxi pulled up over the road. Emily heard the beep and rose to her feet, stuffing her breasts back into her dress and wiping cum into her mouth. She left the three men slightly embarrassed, dicks hanging free, but very satisfied.
*******
It was two weeks after the wedding.
"I think you're going to want to see this."
Shannon had called Emily into the shop and her tone told Emily that it wasn't something trivial that could be discussed over the phone. Emily called in within half an hour - she didn't have much better to do that day.
She was greeted by her new daughter in law, looking amazingly healthy and tanned after her honeymoon in the Maldives. Shannon looked like she was going to burst but served her customer and waited until she left before turning to Emily in excitement.
"So," she began, a wicked expression on her face.
Emily felt like this was going to be good. She wondered if it was the environment of the shop, the constant stream of guys buying their wanking material day after day corrupting her like it had corrupted her mother-in-law. Whatever the cause, Shannon reminded Emily of herself more and more each day.
"Well, I had a visit from Gavin, one of Stephen's friends this morning. He's just got back from Spain, that lads holiday Stephen had to miss as we were on honeymoon. Anyway, he did some shopping when he was over there..."
Shannon delved under the counter and pulled out a magazine. It was a bit different from the ones they stocked in the newsagents, a bit smaller. But it was unmistakenly a porn magazine.
The picture on the front made it crystal clear that this wasn't one of the magazines they usually stocked. On the cover was a beautiful woman, smiling out at the reader, as two penises fired a jet of semen into her face simultaneously.
It was a familiar picture, because it was one of Emily's favourites. The face was Emily's. She was on the cover of the porn magazine, which appeared to be called simply 'Fuck!'.
"Fuck!" Emily repeated in wonder.
The shoot inside went across twelve pages. A few shots of Emily naked, followed by her being given, and enjoying, several cocks, each of which left her splattered in more and more semen.
Shannon was delighted to be the one to show Emily. She knew her mother-in-law would love it, and she was right.
The girls chattered excitedly. Any shock or misgivings Shannon might have had with this sort of thing in the past had long gone now; she was completely on Emily's wavelength.
"It's ironic that it's called 'Fuck'," Emily laughed, "because that's the one thing I don't do in these shots."
"Do you think you will, one day?" Shannon asked curiously.
"Yes, definitely. It's quite nice though, you know, keeping the guys waiting." Shannon seemed to understand. Emily knew that Michelle's fear, that she was corrupting her daughter, was completely legitimate. But Shannon seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the corruption process, and Emily was enjoying having a sounding-board for her darkest secrets and desires.
She came back to today's news.
"Gavin, you say?" Emily could picture Gavin from the wedding. He was one of many who had made inappropriate advances to her. He'd been Stephen's friend since **************, as had most of the group that had just returned from Benidorm.
"Yeah. They just got back yesterday, all nine of them. He was hoping to find you here I think, when he popped in."
"I bet he was," Emily murmured, flicking through the illicit publication, content illegal to sell in the UK.
"He said for the last week of the holiday, all the guys kept taking it in turns in the bathroom with your pictures," she smiled. She knew Emily would love this and enjoyed seeing the look of filthy delight flash across her face.
"Dirty bastards," she smiled. "I can still remember when they were coming round for jelly and ice-cream!" She suddenly had a sobering thought. "What about Stephen? Shit, he's not going to like this!" Her son had previously not been impressed with Emily's antics.
"He doesn't know, but, honestly, I wouldn't worry, he'll be fine. I've been working on him, we had lots of time to discuss everything on the honeymoon -- and by the way, I have to thank you again for that, what a present!"
Emily had paid for a dream two-week vacation to the Maldives. She smiled, pleased at her new daughter-in-law's gratitude.
The fact that Shannon thought her son wouldn't mind the fact that all his friends had been masturbating over pictures of his mother sucking multiple cocks intrigued Emily, but she had more pressing matters to attend to now. She was straight on the phone to Alan.
She knew Alan had been selling her harder photosets to the foreign market, where it was legal. But the reality of that had just hit home. She hadn't really thought that it may come home so dramatically. But now it had, Emily had an urgent need to find out more.
"I can't really answer that," was his response when Emily quizzed Alan about exactly which publications she was appearing in. "The guy I use, he then sells on to the individual magazines. I just courier the pictures to him. I can give you his number if you like? He lives in Amsterdam."
*******
Three days later, Emily was on a ferry from Newcastle to Imjuden, the passenger port serving Amsterdam. She had intended to fly, but the earliest flight she could get was two days later, and she couldn't wait any longer.
Other than the speed, or lack of it, Emily actually liked the boat as a form of transport. She'd never travelled this way before and found it much more civilised than plane or train. Rather than being squeezed onto a tin can and hurtled towards her destination, she instead could wander the decks, visit bars and restaurants, and chat to fellow guests. She actually felt like she was on holiday from the moment she stepped onto the ferry.
The journey was nice. Although she'd, as usual, dressed to be enjoyed, she hadn't sought out any liaisons on the boat, possibly due to the shoot she'd done the previous night, where, as usual, she'd brought multiple cocks to a messy climax over her naked body, as the guys attended to her with toys, fingers, tongues and any phallic object that could be found. So, she was feeling quite satisfied, sexually, for the time being.
Although it was now months since she'd conceded that she was going to need to be fucked during these camera club sessions, she still hadn't acted on it. That last little taboo, that will-she-won't-she lent a certain anticipation to proceedings. A few times she'd watched a hard cock approaching her wet, open cunt during a shoot, and allowed it to be pushed against her thighs, her belly, even her anus.
This made for some lovely pictures -- so much better than those soft, floppy guys on the top shelf in her shop. But just as a penis made an attempt to gain access, she'd divert it, change position, populate its target with another foreign object to prevent it completing its mission.
But as well as teasing the guys, each close encounter left her slightly more frustrated. She was so ready for it, to feel hard, warm meat inside her again, to have her whole body bounced and banged, to feel and hear the slapping of skin against skin as someone hammered into her.
She'd even taken to talking to her desperate cunt as she masturbated recently, promising it would get what it needed soon.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you get a nice stretching soon," she'd whisper gently. "I'm going to give you lots of nice hard cock, you'll see!"
Lovely, filthy thoughts spun around her head as she sipped her cocktail, deliberately opting to stand at the bar so she could be seen. Shannon had put a name to Emily's 'condition', as she lovingly called it. Emily was an exhibitionist.
She thought about this as she glanced around the bar, strange eyes immediately moving away from her legs or cleavage as they met Emily's returning gaze, before resuming their examination of her body as soon as her attention moved elsewhere.
All eyes had been on her the previous evening, and at breakfast she felt that lovely warmth of eyes on her body again as she wandered around the buffet, filling her plate. She was wearing just a light summer dress, no bra, no panties.
She knew that if she wasn't careful, glimpses of her shaven pussy or a nipple were very likely to be seen by any determined onlooker. And who wanted to be careful? She was on holiday.
"Mind if we sit here?" A balding guy around her own age, accompanied by a much younger man with long dark hair, sat down as Emily gestured that it was fine to do so.
"I'm Terry. This is my son, Rowan." Emily nodded politely. Terry was the kind of person who didn't need any encouragement or acknowledgement to speak, and launched into a monologue that went on for some time.
He was a carpet salesman. Rowan was about to start an apprenticeship. His wife had left them when Rowan was in first school. They were going to Amsterdam to celebrate Rowan's eighteenth birthday.
"Between you and me," Rowan dug his dad in the ribs as he lowered his voice. "We're going to take a little look around the red-light district. He's going to get a birthday present he won't forget in a hurry!"
Emily's ears perked up. Terry was taking Rowan to Amsterdam to lose his virginity. That was much more interesting than anything that had gone before -- why had he not led with that? She grinned to herself in the knowledge that, if she'd bumped into them last night with the same story, Rowan might well no longer be a virgin today. The fantasy of breaking in an inexperienced young man was one of her favourites.
"Oh, how sweet!" she smiled. Terry seemed surprised at her reaction. Emily wondered just how many people had been regaled with this story on the journey -- quite a few judging by Rowan's face. "I hope you find the perfect girl and have an amazing time!"
Emily reached over for the salt, making sure both men got a nice long look down her top. She meant to enjoy this trip.
It was a short bus trip into Amsterdam centre. Emily liked the feel of the place immediately. It was a small city, with everything centred around canals which were adorned with lovely little bridges at every turn.
Moreover, the feel of the city was quite unlike any she'd visited before. She was fascinated to see 'normal' businesses alongside sex shops, or cannabis shops called 'coffee shops' existing alongside mainstream businesses.
Wheeling her little case past the canals and amazing tall, thin buildings, Emily felt at home.
Her hotel turned out to be on the edge of the red-light district. A pretty woman in her early thirties welcomed her and showed her to her room. Emily had a little bounce on the bed and went to look out of the window. It was a great view down onto a little square. A café, coffee shop and, she was pleased to note, a sex shop were opposite.
She switched on the TV and had a flick through the channels. She was surprised to see a lot were in English, one appeared to just be the same BBC she'd get at home. But one was definitely not familiar.
Red Hot TV. Warning! Adult content. Please call reception to view.
She wandered back out of her room and down to reception, one very steep flight of stairs down. The same girl greeted her.
"Hi again! I was just wondering -- channel thirty-one, it says I should contact reception if I want to watch it?"
"Sure! Channel thirty-one..." her accent had an American lilt, as with all Europeans whose main point of reference was TV shows. "Oh wait! That's the adult channel, right?"
"Yes, that's it," Emily smiled. "We don't get anything like that back home, so I thought I'd take a look. When in Rome..."
The girl shrugged.
"OK lady. Just know it might not be what you are looking for. No roses or chocolates, eh? Five guilders a day"
That, Emily thought, sounded exactly what she wanted to see. Roses and chocolates she could get any time. She told the girl to keep it on for the duration of her stay.
The hardcore sex that Emily constantly played on channel thirty-one was utterly absorbing. Watching these people -- really good-looking girls, Emily noted, fucking with total abandonment for the camera was like nothing she'd seen before.
Her own photoshoots paled into comparison. Seeing the images move, seeing their expressions, hearing the disgusting sex noises -- it was perfect.
Each scene in that first film she watched was almost identical other than the participants. Girl teases and strips, girl sucks guy's cock, guy gets girl wet with his tongue. Guy fucks girl in three or four positions, then moves from pussy to anus.
Emily watched the anal intently. She adored her steel butt plug and had made up her mind to try this new pleasure at the first opportunity. Each girl who took it up that hole seemed to experience pain at first, just like when Emily tried one of her larger dildos. But, just like Emily, once things were nicely stretched out, pain and pleasure combined on the centre stage for a while before pleasure inevitably won out.
The climax to each scene was the guy giving the girl a load of sperm on her pussy or in her face. This was really fun to watch, but the trailers for upcoming films had Emily waiting for the evening in excited anticipation. Many promised much less 'lovey dovey' (as she termed it) scenes, with some promising orgies, gangbangs and some bondage, women tied up and ********** on the short clips she saw.
She was looking forward to that, but for now she had a meeting.
Jaap Bakker welcomed Emily into his office. As a trader in attractive women, he appreciated her look, fresh and alluring. He could immediately tell she wasn't wearing underwear, and she did so with confidence and pride.
"Mrs Stainthorpe," he offered a hand, before lecherously kissing Emily's as soon as it came within reach.
"Emily, please. Nice to meet you Mr Bakker."
"Jaap," he returned. "You are even more beautiful than in your pictures," he smiled.
"Thank you" That's why I'm here," Emily smiled back. "Alan, he told me that he'd sold all of my pictures to you -- is that right?"
Japp looked a little suspicious for a moment. It was not unheard of for jilted men to vengefully expose their ex-wives or girlfriends, and for the wronged party to start seeking justice. But this didn't feel like that at all. Emily did not have the face or the attitude of someone on the warpath. And he didn't think a woman scorned would dress like Emily, who had crossed her legs to reveal almost everything.
"Yeah, sure. I'm liking the content Alan is giving me recently," he said, looking very blatantly and obviously at the curve of Emily's buttock, the loose material of her dress tantalisingly just concealing her modesty. "It sells really well. You are a natural. And your name is really Emily? Emily Stainthorpe?"
"Thanks! Yes, that's my name -- why?"
"Most girls... every girl I've seen in this industry, they choose a fake name, a fake persona, yes?"
"Oh right, I see. Well, I guess I've got nothing to hide. I'll confess, I really quite like being known for... for what I do."
"Well, you are very good at it. I'm looking forward to the pictures of you fucking all these guys though, eh? You suck the cock real good, sure. And you look amazing all wet with jizz, yeah. But sometimes a guy needs to see a woman fucking. Bang! Bang! Bang! eh?"
Emily giggled. She loved talking like this, discussing her previous appearances in front of the camera, and what she might do in future.
"Noted. Watch this space!" she said happily. "Anyway, did Alan tell you why I'm here?"
"I didn't really get it, I'll be honest. You are looking for work?"
Emily wasn't, but her mind raced to what sort of work she might be offered, before she pulled herself back to reality.
"Alan mentioned that you sell directly to the magazines. I saw myself in 'Fuck!' this month. I was wondering if you could tell me which other magazines I appear in?"
"Oh, well that's easy, sure, no problem. 'Fuck'! Quite a, how you say, subtle name eh?" They both shared a grin as he opened a filing cabinet.
"S, S, St, Stai, Stain - here we go -- Emily Stainthorpe." He took a folder out and pulled the contents onto the desk. Emily felt her heart thumping in her chest as a full-face, A4 sized glossy shot of her with a cock all the way down her throat slid out. She was on file in this strange country, miles from home.
"Beautiful, yes," Jaap murmured at these shots. "Ah, yes, here we go. I'll write them down for you."
Jaap proceeded to make note of each sale of Emily's photos.
"Here. I make note because I get paid on publication. So here is every magazine you've appeared in -- you are becoming really popular, no?"
Emily took the paper from Jaap and read through. Some of the names were hilarious: 'Big Climax', 'Cock and Cunt', 'Maximum pleasure'. Each entry was accompanied by an issue number and a date.
"Oh, this is perfect -- thank you so much!" Emily smiled. "I'm so grateful -- is there anything I can do for you?"
This meant exactly what it sounded like. Emily had been picturing her meeting with the famous pornographer and assumed that sucking his cock was the accepted way to conclude such a meeting.
Jaap wasn't going to refuse the offer, and Emily was soon sucking his modest penis. He didn't even close his door, his secretary carrying on about her business as Emily used her pretty face to get him off.
"That's a good girl, Emily Stainthorpe, you like a cock fucking your face, no? I see in your pictures. This is a girl; she fucking loves it." Emily nodded and smiled at him in encouragement. She noticed that he didn't even look at her, preferring to leaf through the pictures of her he had on file until he filled her grateful mouth.
"Thank you so much," she smiled, wiping a trickle of semen from her chin and sucking her fingers clean.
"Thank you, Emily," Jaap replied, putting his spent cock away. "I look forward to Alan sending me plenty more pictures, eh?"
"Definitely!" Emily said happily...
3 月 前
