Emma Ch 06

VI

Charlotte was very anxious on the first day of her new job: not just because of the anxiety of working with new people and finding new routines, but also just the concept of working all day with no clothes. She had of course been shown round the offices before today and knew what to expect. It was nonsense to say that nudity was compulsory. Not everyone working in the branch were naturists, although they had to be sympathetic, and even those who took off their clothes didn't necessarily take them all off. Despite this, it took little time for the oddness to wear off of being in a government office surrounded by computer terminals and paper files with naked people. Her new supervisor made no mention of clothing policy and only discussed the duties Charlotte would be performing. He was however totally naked except for a pen dangling over his chest. Undoubtedly the work was going to be more tedious than that which Charlotte had been doing previously, but this was the penalty that Charlotte had expected to pay for the privilege of being a naturist at work.

One of Charlotte's main anxieties was quite simply what clothes to wear on the way to the office. She spent ages the night before trying on all combinations of overcoat and jacket. She eventually decided to wear only a pair of black swimming trucks and a short jacket, but when the morning came and she prepared herself she actually found herself putting on exactly what she would normally have worn. As she was just about to leave, she thought better of it, but only to remove her knickers and bra. "I won't need these," she said to herself slyly as she felt the dress against her bare skin.

She gingerly knocked on Harriett's door to say goodbye to Emma, who had insisted she do this so that she could wish Charlotte good luck. There was no response, so Charlotte eased open the door to see Emma in bed with Harriett and also the tanned naked body of a third girl who was in the bed with them. This had been another in the series of girls Harriett had started inviting back to practice making love with. The night before, Emma confided to Charlotte that she'd found Molly a little common for her tastes, but refreshingly open. She'd not hesitated in getting down to some serious love-making with Emma and Harriett: the artificial tan of her body and bleach-blonde hair standing out in contrast to Charlotte's flatmates' more natural skin colour.

It took Charlotte a few moments to be sure, but Molly was active in eating Harriett's vagina with Emma beneath exploring Molly's raised vagina with her tongue and fingers. Emma looked up from what she was doing, her vulva pointing directly towards Charlotte. "Are you off now?" she asked Charlotte softly.

Charlotte nodded and made to leave through the door. "Don't leave so fast!" cried Emma who pulled herself up from under Molly who was too engrossed to disengage herself and ran up to Charlotte. She gave Charlotte a hug and a kiss. "I hope your day goes well!"

Charlotte's journey was by underground train, and she felt nervous that somehow people could see that she wasn't wearing any underwear. Other people probably didn't care, and indeed one girl, probably a secretary, was quite clearly showing a bare nipple though her very low-cut dress. This didn't prevent her from feeling self-conscious. Indeed, she was pleased when she could get out of the train and walk the hundred yards through the rain and puddles to the office. She stood at the escalator doors after showing her pass to the doorman, wondering when it would be appropriate for her to take off her clothes. When the lift arrived, no one was unclothed there, so she stayed fully clothed until she reached the 6th floor and went into the reception area.

"Hello, what do you want?" asked a girl at the reception desk who was wearing no clothes at all that Charlotte could see besides the petite glasses on her nose.

"I'm Charlotte. It's my first day here."

"Charlotte," sniffed the receptionist looking at a list which she held up in front of her pert breasts whose nipples stood out. "The new girl. Another naturist, I suppose?"

Charlotte nodded. Although the receptionist was unclothed she didn't appear very sympathetic to naturism.

"You'll be wanting to know where to leave your clothes then," the receptionist continued. She stood up and Charlotte could see that she in fact was not totally naked but wore some very brief shorts and knee-high boots. She was taken to a room marked

Private

where there were coats on hooks and some lockers. "This is your locker," the receptionist said pointing at one which was open. "You'll have to provide your own padlock I'm afraid. And you

must

wear clothes if you leave the premises."

Charlotte felt hopeless as she stood in front of the locker. "Don't you want to take your clothes off, then?" wondered the receptionist. Charlotte smiled pleadingly, but received no sympathetic gesture. A little embarrassed, Charlotte removed her jacket and pulled off the dress to reveal the naked body underneath. The receptionist sniffed again, but made no comment.

"Right, I'll take you to Bernard who'll show you your desk," said the receptionist referring to the supervisor Charlotte had met before.

The rest of the day was spent meeting other members of staff and learning about her duties. Most of the staff were men and almost all of these were nudists. The main embarrassment Charlotte felt as she met all these new men was of avoiding eye-contact with their penises. She studiously looked up at their faces and reminded herself that as a lesbian men should be the same to her clothed or unclothed.

There were three other women besides Charlotte based at the office. There was Peggy, the receptionist, who was adamant that she wasn't a naturist but was nonetheless usually topless and, Charlotte was told, would frequently wear nothing at all in warm weather. There was Mildred, a late middle-aged women who had the cracked skin of years of sunbathing and droopy breasts that flopped over her tight, lined, brown belly. There was one woman about Charlotte's age, Clarissa, who was plump with a proud round pair of breasts crowned with nipples the size of Charlotte's fist.

Charlotte's desk faced towards a male colleague, Desmond, who although a committed naturist almost always wore an open shirt so that he could have access to a pen at all times. He was also rather shy and had great difficulty at looking at Charlotte's face, let alone anywhere else on her body. She looked out on to the street and was pleased to see that there were no vantage points where anyone could spy on the office. Charlotte had no intention of being the subject of anyone's voyeurism.

Bernard spelt out the rules pertaining to dress at the office which was to wear clothes outside of the office and to respect the views of any member of the public who didn't actively express a willingness to be interviewed by a naked Civil Servant. A white overcoat of standard issue was provided in all interview rooms so that staff could be dressed in these circumstances, but as Bernard assured her, very few people would be coming to this branch without expecting to meet some naturist staff.

When 5 o'clock came, Charlotte joined the others by their lockers as they got dressed to go home. Bernard stayed at his desk, as did Desmond who Charlotte later discovered was very shy of being seen putting his clothes back on. Clarissa's locker was right next to Charlotte's and she smiled at Charlotte as she put on just a leather jacket over her otherwise naked body and pulled on some leather knee-high boots. "You going home by yourself, love?" she asked.

"Yes," admitted Charlotte doing up her own jacket which more convincingly hid her smaller beasts than did Clarissa's from which her breasts were clearly trying to escape.

"My boyfriend's picking me up," Clarissa said, "but perhaps another night we can go out for a drink after work."

"That would be very nice," Charlotte admitted, who still felt very much a stranger amongst her colleagues. She was sure Clarissa wasn't a lesbian herself, but that was all for the best. It was Emma who she loved. Her day had been mostly desk-bound, though she knew that her job would soon involve meeting the public, of which all she'd seen all day were the people in the streets when she'd gone out for her lunch-break. She felt sure then, as she felt now, leaving the office, that everyone could see her nakedness under her clothes.

There she goes, she imagined them thinking, when the lift stopped on her floor and she joined the other office staff and executives already in the lift. You can see she's got no clothes on underneath. She's a filthy nudist. She spends all day indulging in the perverse pleasure of nudity. And what's more she's a lesbian. She loves other women. She's a disgusting, perverted, naked dyke.

And, Charlotte reminded herself with a wince, a lesbian who can't even have sex with the woman she loves above all else. A woman for whom she'd sacrifice everything. But a woman who nonetheless denies that she's at all gay while forever making love to Harriett. And not just Harriett, but any friend that Harriett brings home with her. Last night it was Molly. A girl who probably couldn't even spell her own name. Will it be Molly tonight? Or some other girl.

Her bitter thoughts followed her, and distracted her from the self-consciousness of her hidden nakedness as she travelled home on the underground train, with bodies of men and women squeezed right up against her, supporting herself only by the strap. As she hurried up the stairs to the surface, she absentmindedly let her breasts fall out of her coat, but she hurriedly replaced them, sure that everyone had now decided that she was the worst kind of slut.

It wasn't Molly that Emma was making love to when Charlotte came in. In fact, Emma and Harriett weren't making love at all, but seemed to just be talking to a girl that was with them. This girl was quite short - less than five feet high - and built on a corresponding slender model, with breasts barely showing as more than discoloured bumps on her breast. Her skin was very pale, and at first Charlotte was convinced that this girl was just a school-girl who Harriett had persuaded to strip off. In fact when the girl turned round and smiled at Charlotte with a sparkle of teeth and deep dark eyes, it was clear she was actually an oriental woman, probably in her mid-twenties.

Emma jumped up and ran up to Charlotte. She grasped Charlotte round the shoulders before she had the chance to take her coat off. "How was your first day at work?" she asked. "It wasn't too frightful was it?"

"No, no. It was alright. Perfectly alright."

"They were kind to you, were they?" Emma wondered, a look of real concern as she noticed the bitterness that had set into Charlotte's face.

"Oh yes, they were very nice. I'm just not, you know, just not used to being nude all day."

"How peculiar," laughed Emma, who was rarely anything but. She showered Charlotte's face with dry little kisses. "Now can you be a darling and help us."

"Of course," volunteered Charlotte with no idea what Emma, Harriett and the oriental girl wanted.

"Meet Susan," said Emma, showing her guest. "She has a problem about making love."

"Yes," explained Susan, who had a slightly foreign enunciation to her immaculate English. "All my life I only ever make love when I am being watched. That is why I work in sex television, because it is the only way I can have a happy love life. And I want to make love to both Emma and Harriett..."

"...And both of us want to make love to her," agreed Emma squeezing Charlotte. "Don't we, Harriett?"

Harriett was holding Susan's shoulders. She gently kissed Susan full on the mouth to signal assent.

"So please, Charlotte," pleaded Emma, "Can you watch Susan with us? But don't touch."

And so on Emma's first evening after a day at her new job was spent watching the three girls make love together. Emma seemed particularly enthusiastic. More enthusiastic in her passionate love with Susan than Emma had ever seen with Harriett. Her cries of passion were louder and fuller than she'd ever heard before. Is it Susan who makes her so passionate? wondered Charlotte. But she couldn't be sure as Harriett seemed to be giving her great pleasure too as she nibbled Emma's clitoris with her teeth, while Susan in turn squeezed her vagina tightly against her own. Or was it because I'm watching? Perhaps, Charlotte thought, my presence gives Emma just a bit more pleasure. Perhaps she gets sadistic pleasure out of my discomfort. Or maybe, and Charlotte was sure this was the real truth, she thinks I get pleasure from seeing her get pleasure.

However, it was not Emma, but Susan who seemed most aware of Charlotte's presence. Frequently and from whatever absurd angle it was, with pubic hair in her mouth or a tongue in her ear or her fingers firmly up Emma's cunt or even when Harriett forced one of her dildos as far up Susan's anus as it could go, Susan's broad smile and sparkling gaze seemed directed not at her lovers but rather at Charlotte. In fact, Charlotte had never been looked at in such an unambiguously sexual way before. At one stage, Susan disengaged herself from her two lovers, who continued making love with each other regardless and suddenly squeezed Charlotte to her tiny breasts and kissed her passionately on the face, eyes and mouth. And then, just when Charlotte had become fully appreciative of this act of passion, she pushed herself back off to rejoin the love-making with what seemed re-invigorated passion and lust.

The three girls made love for what seemed forever to Charlotte, who envied them all. Afterwards though, Susan's conversation was held not with Emma and Harriett, whom she'd enjoyed so passionately, but with Charlotte. She felt that Susan was blatantly flirting with her, particular as she so often held Charlotte's hands in her own little hands and traced her fingers gently over their back. In fact she barely seemed interested in Emma and Harriett now, who retreated after a while to watch some of the videos that Emma was still investigating for her television station.

Charlotte soon became aware that Susan's flirting, although meant sincerely, was not meant as an invitation to sex, (which she discussed coolly and dispassionately), but as an expression of affection. As Susan left, putting on a very tight silver jump-suit, she gave Charlotte a long embrace, hugging her and kissing her on the cheeks. "I

must

see you again," Susan insisted.

"You

must

come and visit and watch me making love to my boyfriend. He is so passionate. And," she added, "we can only make love when we have visitors watching.

Please

say yes, so I can make love to him. He'll love it when such a beautiful girl as you is watching."

Charlotte nodded, and said she would. But in truth, she felt very weary of all this second-hand love. When would someone make love to her? And would that person ever be Emma?