Emma

XXXII

Fatima didn’t believe in starting any endeavour without doing some research first, so she found her way to the set of

Schoolboy Fuck Fun,

where Susan was currently being filmed, to have a few words with an experienced fuck film star. She spent a long time preparing herself: applying blood red lipstick and choosing clothes that showed as much stockinged leg as was physically possible and which showed all but the nipples of her perky full breasts. She had no wish to be recognised in this present attire by anyone she knew (particularly from either the Asian or Islamic community) and wore a pair of very dark sun-glasses to disguise herself. She watched with some interest as Susan and others were being fucked by the male stars or themselves did the fucking with the dildos provided; but she didn’t choose to reveal herself to Susan until the filming finished and Susan was preparing to go home.

Susan was dressed as she mostly did these days: a pair of shorts and nothing else to obscure her essential androgyny, especially the flatness of her chest. She wore a six inch dildo around her buttocks which thrust out grotesquely through her open flies and a pair of flat shoes. She emerged from the changing room by herself, looking somehow small and insecure. Fatima strode towards her, smiling and greeted her by name.

“How do you know who I am?”

“My lover, Salim, told me all about you,” Fatima explained. “I’d like to have a chat with you, if that’s alright.”

“Is it about Salim?”

“No, not at all! I want to chat about Amna. You know Amna, don’t you? You introduced her to the sex film industry.”

“Well, yes. I did.” Susan blurted out, with an attack of guilt. “But I didn’t know she was a virgin. And I didn’t know she was obsessed with me.”

“I don’t blame you for anything, Susan. I’ve come to you for advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yes. I’ve taken on the task of acting as Amna’s agent. I just want to find out more about the industry she’s working in. Would you like to join me for a meal?”

“I’ve got nothing else arranged. Where have you got in mind?”

“La Maison Déclassé,” Fatima suggested, mentioning a restaurant that was known to be both expensive and fashionable. Susan readily agreed and the two of them were soon sitting opposite each other ignoring the stares they were attracting from the other guests (particularly the male ones). Fatima kept on her dark glasses and smiled broadly at Susan after they’d ordered the first two courses.

“I just want advice. I really don’t know a great deal about your industry. I’ve sold washing machines. I’ve sold lipstick. And I’ve sold encyclopaedias. What I need to know from you is what Amna’s most valuable assets are and how to maximise their sales potential.”

Susan mused over this. “Her best asset is undoubtedly her breasts. She’s got a good pair of tits. All she needs is to improve them and promote them.”

“Would surgery be the best course?”

“Undoubtedly! I can give you the name of a few good surgeons. Perhaps a bit of thigh enhancement. More pouty lips, maybe. She also needs to improve her physical technique. A bit of exercise, not only in making love but also to lose some of the fat around her stomach.”

Fatima pulled out a small notebook and started jotting down some of what Susan was saying: “Breasts. Thighs. Lips. Waist. Technique. What about her hairiness?”

“That’s okay: although she ought to reduce some of it on her arms and arsehole. It’s expected that she be a bit hairy. And her colour’s a good asset too. Better to be too dark than too light.”

The conversation continued in this form over the wine, food and accordion; and Fatima gradually moved the conversation around to Susan. She felt quite gratified to realise that even fuck film stars had worries. She learnt about her passion for Charlotte, her loss of feeling for sex with men and the feeling she had that she had no real lover herself, “excluding Amna, of course,” she remarked as an aside.

It was inevitable that Fatima should be invited back to Susan’s flat, and the two wandered along the street: Fatima nearly blind in the evening light who continued wearing her dark glasses despite the dimness and Susan attracting attention from the unsubtlety of her protruding dildo. Fatima felt a certain degree of alarm when she recognised Amna’s brother staring at them, but was sure that he didn’t recognise her at all and was rather more distracted by Susan’s rather odd appearance.

The two of them went up to Susan’s flat and as the young girl opened the door, Fatima was rather alarmed to hear the unmistakable sound of loud and passionate cries of lovemaking echoing about the flat.

“It’s only Charlotte and Josephine!” Susan explained, slightly opening the door to the living room where Fatima could see two men and two women engaged in very obvious fucking. Two penises were deep inside Josephine’s lower orifices while Charlotte’s tongue engaged itself furiously on the long erect lengths of them. Susan sighed slightly and closed the door.

“Doesn’t it bother you slightly?” Fatima wondered.

Susan turned about to look directly at Fatima’s sympathetic face. She nodded shyly. “I just wish Charlotte would show more affection towards me.”

Fatima put her arms around Susan’s bare shoulders and pulled her little girl body close to her. Susan sighed again and applied her lips to Fatima’s. The older woman hooked her thumbs around the top of Susan’s shorts and eased them down while passionately licking Susan’s teeth. She could sense Susan’s professional skills as the small girl reciprocated by easing off her own clothes and directing her caresses where Fatima felt the greatest need. She could also sense Susan’s desperation for affection and some of the girl’s loneliness. She took command of the situation.

“Shall we have some wine and a chat first?” She suggested, producing a bottle from the bag she carried with her. “Then we can make love until morning.”

“You’d like that?” Susan asked with some trepidation.

“Very much so!” Said Fatima unfastening Susan’s dildo and stroking her hand over the stubble of Susan’s vulva. “Very much so!”

Susan’s advice was not ignored, despite Amna’s initial complaints. However, the first thing Amna was aware of, as she gradually regained consciousness after the operation, was a slight sharp pain beneath her breasts and a duller one below her shoulders. The second thing, as she opened her eyes, was the sight of her aunt and Fatima kissing each other passionately while they stood at the end of the hospital bed in which she lay. She leaned forward, but in doing so she felt the pain around her breasts more sharply and a most unusual dull sensation around nipples that felt strangely stretched. She groaned slightly and let her body collapse back onto the bed, attracting Aunt Salim and her lover’s attention as she did so.

“She’s waking up!” Exclaimed Aunt Salim, guiltily pushing Fatima off her and rushing over to Amna’s side wearing a long dark dress and with her hair gathered under her silk scarf. “How are you, Amna, dearest? How do you feel after the operation?”

“Operation?” Wondered Amna, gradually recalling the circumstances which led to her being in the hospital bed. Her eyes scanned the brilliant white walls, the utilitarian metal furniture, the pushed back screen and Fatima, dressed far more modestly than she was accustomed to seeing her. Except for the dark redness of her lipstick, and the blueness around her eyes, she was dressed much the same as her aunt: not a trace of hair free of her scarf and nothing but her hands and face otherwise visible under her green satin jelaba. “What operation?”

“The one for your breasts!” Fatima reminded her taking her hand in her own and squeezing it firmly. “Don’t you remember?”

“Breasts?” Asked Amna pulling up her arms and touching them with her dark fingers. She was naked except for a pair of white knickers and could feel the unfamiliar bulk of her breasts and her enlarged nipples. “I had them enhanced, didn’t I? That’s right, isn’t it!”

“It most certainly is!” Exclaimed Fatima gently easing the cotton sheet down to Amna’s waist so that she could see them more clearly. “The surgeon’s certainly done a good job on them. They look much better.”

Aunt Salim gasped. “They’re enormous! And unnatural! Are you sure we’ve done the right thing, Fatty?”

“Of course we have!” Fatima reassured her. “Don’t you think, Amna? You’ve now got a beautiful pair of forty eight double D cup, darling. Your breasts will be the envy of everyone!”

Amna self-consciously explored the contours and the strange weight of them. Her aunt was right. They were enormous! And they felt so hard and firm! She sat up slowly and felt them slowly drop as she became less horizontal. “What do they look like? I don’t look like a freak do I?”

“Not at all!” Fatima reassured her. “What do you think, Sally?”

Aunt Salim seemed less certain, but she nodded passively. “They make you look very ... nice.”

Amna cupped her hands underneath them and supported their great weight. “I’m not a freak, am I?” She repeated. “Is there a mirror I can look in?”

Aunt Salim opened her handbag and looked inside, while the more resourceful Fatima stood up and unhooked a mirror from the wall and brought it over to the bed. She rested it on the bed sheets in front of Amna so she could gaze at the whole of her torso. Her breasts were monstrous! Not the biggest she’d seen on the set, but amongst the largest. They were very round. Very firm. And much bigger than she’d imagined they’d be. She placed her hands under them and jiggled them up and down.

“I’m not sure. Are they really mine? Can I change them back?”

“Don’t be silly!” Laughed Fatima, leaning over and licking her nipples. “They’re beautiful! You’ll never want to change back! They’re you! Just as much as your beautiful eyes. Your sexy mouth. And your welcoming vagina.”

“I hope you’re right!” Reflected Amna, aware now that unlike having a haircut or a manicure this was one change of her appearance she couldn’t easily reverse.

She left the hospital later that day, wearing a rather large shirt over her top and a pair of jeans. As she was led to the taxi by her aunt and her agent, she felt terribly self-conscious as people stared at her, perhaps wondering whether she was pregnant. She felt a desperate need to feel her breasts, to reassure herself that she was all right, to feel once again the curious new contours of her body, but restrained herself until she arrived home.

Fatima lay in bed with her for the rest of the day, masturbating her gently and massaging her breasts. Amna knew that at least one person loved her new appearance, but felt rather disturbed that her aunt was so shy of looking at her. In fact, she seemed to direct her gaze anywhere but at her breasts, and relegated herself to preparing food in the kitchen and tidying up the house. Fatima was much more enthusiastic.

“This will mark the start of a much more prosperous film career!” She exclaimed with delight, nibbling softly at Amna’s now almost permanently erect nipples. “We’ll be able to double your rate to match the doubling of your breasts!” She stroked a finger over Amna’s mouth. “Then we’ll do the lips. Then the thighs. And perhaps there’s something we can do to enhance your beautiful buttocks.”

Although Amna was aware that these enhancements would improve her market value, she found her new breasts rather an inconvenience. Initially at least, it was very difficult for her to even leave the house. Partly this was to do with her continued self-consciousness about her enhanced figure. Everyone stared at her. Their eyes were focused only on her breasts and hardly at all on the rest of her. Heads turned as she walked along the street. People stopped short in their tracks as they walked towards her, and stared long and hard at the magnificent wealth of breast that was barely hidden at all under her shirt.

The other reason was more practical. Not many clothes were made for women with her new enhanced figure - or at least those that did enclose her breasts were far from flattering. They either made her look pregnant or several generations older than she was. There were no dresses that looked even remotely attractive, and her breasts swelled out the contours of any blouse or tee-shirt. Fatima worked hard however to correct this. “You can’t go to a film shoot not looking sexy, dearest,” she said, while specifying details of dimensions to clothes manufacturers over the video-phone. “We’ve got to get you some brassieres and tops which show your breasts to their best advantage.”

Soon enough, Fatima’s endeavours supplied Amna with a choice of tops that made no effort whatsoever to disguise the enormity of her breasts: pushing them up, maximising the cleavage and ensured they pointed ahead. They were also quite uncomfortable and Amna felt relieved when she could return home and pull off her top and lie around the house naked. Fatima clearly enjoyed this, and her lovemaking with Amna had become much more passionate whereas Aunt Salim became a rather more infrequent lover. Fatima relished every contour and every detail of her breasts, and chortled with delight as Amna described the difficulties her fresh assets had caused her.

“You wait,” she said, her head squeezed between Amna’s legs. “You’ll soon see how much your breasts will enhance your career. I almost wish I had a pair like yours myself.”

Amna restrained herself from asking Fatima why then it was she and not Fatima who had the burden of carrying them around with her.

Fatima’s sex life had meanwhile become very complicated, as she reflected, her lips sealed to Josephine’s mouth and a penis deep inside her anus. Susan was sharing her lips between Josephine’s and her own cunt, while the man fucking her was also delving his tongue inside Josephine’s vagina. From the adjacent bedroom came cries of passion from Charlotte who was being fucked by a tall dark-skinned man with a hooked nose and a pair of athletic buttocks which thrust and thrust again into the deepest recesses of Charlotte’s cunt, her legs high up and clutched around his waist. Fatima had got rather used to the easy promise of sex available at Susan’s flat and enjoyed the attention of the men who had come with the promise of sex with the enfianced couple. She had always rather preferred a good fuck with a man to the more leisurely and rather more prolonged lovemaking she had become accustomed to with women. It hadn’t taken her long to inveigle herself into the lovemaking routines at Susan’s flat and rather enjoyed her new status as Susan’s lover: one that the small oriental seemed to prefer for Fatima’s very lack of wanting to commit herself whole-heartedly to it.

“It’s so much better when there’s no jealousy involved,” Susan would say as the two shared the ends of a double-headed dildo. “Aisha always wanted more from me than I could possibly offer. How can a sex actress ever be serious about a relationship?”

How indeed? mused Fatima running her tongue around the rearmost of Susan’s molars and tasting yet again the sweetness of her spittle (so much nicer than the taste of nicotine that stuck to Amna’s palate). She particularly enjoyed making love to Josephine whose affection for Charlotte was quite unfeigned, though she showed rather more eagerness than her fiancée for making love to their Muslim guest.

Amna was Fatima’s protégée, however, and Fatima felt a powerful obligation towards her. Particularly with regard to improving her technique. It was not enough, she believed, simply to enrol the young girl in sex education classes where the girl was learning how to fellate, masturbate and fake orgasms convincingly. She needed much more personal tuition despite the fact that her agent always found it rather less than completely satisfying. Amna had not yet learnt to really enjoy sex. She was always somewhat distant from the intimate activity centred on her cunt or breasts. The latter still caused her anxiety (particularly with regard to what her family might think of them) and much of Fatima’s lovemaking concentrated on trying to persuade her that her newly enlarged breasts made her much more sexy and attractive. Privately, Fatima wondered herself on the wisdom of the operation. Amna was so self-conscious about them that rather than parade them to her best advantage, she went out of her way to obscure them; although she was happy not to wear any clothes around the house.

“And your lips. They could be oh! even more kissable with some enhancement!” She tried to persuade Amna who was not inclined to disagree with her agent’s advice. “And those buttocks! They could be so much more firm and delightful with such little effort!”

Amna nodded, as she obediently bobbed up and down on the dildo strapped around Fatima’s waist which thrust so deep inside her but stirred nothing more than the most vapid of responses. Fatima would chew Amna’s clitoris, thrust two fingers deep inside her anus while fucking her from the front, nibble her newly enlarged nipples, and push vegetables inside an orifice while busily stimulating her vagina with a tongue. Amna dutifully gasped and groaned, but Fatima could detect the insincerity. She just hoped that all the expensive lessons and her own time-consuming personal tuition would eventually bring the young girl to more genuine orgasms, and that at the very least they would be satisfactory for the career she was planning for her.

She persuaded Amna to take regular and relatively vigorous exercise to trim her waist, build up the muscles of her thighs and enable her to perform more enthusiastically for longer on the sets of films. She supplied her with an exercise bicycle and some weights, and supervised her ward as she went through the regulation exercises, monitoring her progress with a stopwatch and a tape measure. She made no effort to discourage Amna from smoking although she personally abhorred the habit. She was aware that this depressed the girl’s appetite and would hopefully wean her off the fatty and unhealthy food that she was still too inordinately fond of.

It was a strain on Fatima to continue her coaching of Amna. The age difference and outlook was undeniable. She really had no fondness for the loud electronic pop music that Amna listened to and got rapidly bored with the limited range of the girl’s conversation on pop music, films and fashion. She also hid from Amna as much as possible all evidence of her own relationship with Susan, whom the young girl still idolised. It afforded Fatima some pleasure to sit and watch videos of Susan in the various fuck films Amna rented from the video library. She was able to compare Susan the fuck actress with the Susan she knew so very much more intimately. There was no doubting that Susan was a consummate star and showed off her assets (or lack of them) to very good advantage. Her ambition was for Amna to use her own assets (particularly her recently enhanced ones) to very much the same effect, but was often discouraged by Amna’s real lack of genuine taste for the profession she had chosen. Fatima unashamedly used Amna’s idol as an object of emulation and hinted again and again that one of the rewards of a successful career in sex films could very well be the opportunity to make love to Susan. Hints which Fatima also believed she would do nothing herself to facilitate, and doubted anyway that Amna was truly to Susan’s taste. Her oriental lover preferred more mature and certainly more passionate lovers than poor young Amna.

She spent most nights in bed with Salim whom she still thought of more as her best friend than as her lover. She knew that Salim rued the loss of the exclusiveness of her relationship with Amna and was more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of the three of them sharing mutual sexual experiences; although it was relatively rarely that Amna and Salim made love together with Fatima. Salim was quite passionately in love with Fatima and very fond of Amna, but uncomfortably aware that her friend for so many years had somehow changed the pattern of her sex life to her disadvantage.