The buzz Emily enjoyed after inviting two young men to masturbate over her in the space of twenty-four hours was incredible, but there was a bit of 'After the lords mayor's show' about the following weeks.
Emily successfully fought the urge to invite all and sundry to wank over her, much as she wanted it. She knew that if she wasn't careful there could be consequences for that sort of thing.
"It's one thing being a fun loving, sexy and flirty shopkeeper," she told herself, "But another altogether to be a willing wank target for anyone with a cock."
The trouble was, just thinking those words got her wet. She found herself saying them out loud, looking at herself solemnly in the mirror.
The voice of sensible Emily had been getting drowned out by the inexorable rise of Emily the whore. It tried to make one last appeal for her to come to her senses, but she battered it info submission.
"Slut!" she called herself. "You can't fight it. It's what you are. A wank target. A sperm receptacle. It's what you are for. You love them wanking over you, in the magazines, in the flesh, whatever. There's nothing wrong with that, accept it. You love cocks and cocks love you!"
The speed with which she'd found herself going from sharing a sexy flirt and tease with her customers, to posing naked and inviting them to wank on her was a little scary. But it was exhilarating, and she knew it was going to continue. The only questions were when, where, and with whom.
She felt as though she was finding out more about herself with each filthy encounter. And her discoveries were always fun. No doubt her celibacy for the best part of twenty years was a big reason for her sudden descent into debauchery, but it wasn't the only one. She knew this had always been in her. The situation, the shop and her sudden financial freedom had been the trigger for her to let it come out.
Emily had been sad when the butterfly vibrator had broken, which was inevitable given the prolonged, intensive use required of it. But it was quickly replaced by a new one, just in time for her appearance in 'Naughty Neighbours', the only publication she hadn't appeared in last month.
The buzz of showing off her new set was amazing, as usual. She was again spread across four pages, quickly stripping out of a nice summer dress to reveal nothing other than tan hold-up stockings and setting about some manual pleasure, pushing two, three and then four fingers deep inside herself.
Any pretence that she was anything other than ecstatic about being published for the sexual pleasure of strangers had long gone.
"He's done me a favour, I know that now," she sighed wistfully whilst showing an older guy this latest set. She was referring to her cover story which she'd concocted to explain why she was suddenly plastered over most of the adult magazines in her shop. A jilted ex who had decided to humiliate Emily by making public all the private pictures he had of her.
"I never knew I had this in me, but I just love it. Look at that, I think it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" The man agreed that, yes, Emily spreading her legs as far apart as they could go and cramming most of her hand inside her soaking cunt, whilst baring her teeth at the camera like a wild animal, was indeed a beautiful sight, and strolled off with a copy under his arm.
On Tuesday she was visited by her accountant. He spent an hour or two in the office and was very impressed with what he found.
"I've not seen a turnaround in a small business like this for some time," he frowned, reviewing the numbers on his ledger. I mean, your husband ran a tight ship, and he did pretty well for a business of this size. But you have increased revenue over eighteen percent, year on year. That's unheard of in this sector! All of it comes from the magazine sales -- do you know specifically what people are suddenly buying?"
"Well, yes, I think I do..." Johnathan Carver had been Mike's accountant even when Emily married him, at eighteen. He wasn't in the slightest bit attractive, but that wasn't really a factor to her, most of the time. Any man she could arouse was a tick in the right column.
"I found that the adult magazines sold really well. So, I really pushed them, and increased the range, covering more specialist subjects. It seems I can't get enough, they fly off the shelves!"
"Really? I'm not seeing that at other similar businesses. What exactly do you mean by 'specialist'?"
Emily thought showing Johnathan would be better than explaining and produced a copy of 'Wet and Open'.
"Here. it can get quite a bit more naughty than the traditional magazines, you see. People never used to be able to see this sort of stuff, so it's really popular!"
"Quite..." Johnathan adjusted his wire framed glasses and began turning the pages with more interest than you'd expect from a man of his age and demeanour. Emily watched him flick through a set of a pretty blonde, followed by an older looking brunette. Both were dressed for sex, and both sets were similar, some pussy spreading and fingering gaining some approving noises from Emily's accountant.
He made to turn the page over to the next set. Emily grabbed his hand, and he looked up, a little startled.
"I need to warn you before you turn the page. I think it might answer a lot of your questions." She released his hand, and he turned over.
The first picture was unmistakably Emily. She was in a kitchen dressed in some tiny, neon green shorts, and a tight pink crop top, nipples straining against the thin fabric. Her face was a picture of innocence, a sweet smile lighting up the page. Against her cheek she held a large aubergine.
Johnathan went to turn the page again and Emily briefly stopped him, deliberately adding to the tension and expectation.
"Don't judge me, OK?"
She wanted the opposite. She wanted to be exposed, observed, judged and rated. As the page turned, Emily giggled like a schoolgirl, making it clear she had no shame about what the accountant was looking at.
There were eight pictures across the two pages, one depicting Emily stripping off, one positioning the aubergine for insertion, and the rest showing in graphic detail her vagina being stretched obscenely wide by the fat egg plant. Her expression ranged from obvious pleasure to her infectious, bright smile.
Johnathan stared at these pictures for several minutes. Emily simply sat and watched him absorb her illicit activities, feeling a beautiful mix of arousal, shame and exhilaration. She noticed him shifting in his seat subtly and knew that the lump she could see in his pants was for her.
Finally, he flipped the page over. There was one more picture, a full-page shot of Emily smiling into the camera, proudly displaying the fruit she'd just removed, wet with her juice. She was relaxing back in a kitchen chair, her legs spread wide. Her cunt gaped open, a consequence of having that massive thing rammed up inside her for so long.
Emily let him absorb that one for a few minutes, leaving him alone to tend to the shop. When she returned, he stood up, holding the magazine over his crotch, looking embarrassed.
"Don't worry Johnathan. I know you'll be nice and hard. I mean, that's kind of the point, isn't it? I'd be worried if you weren't!" She busied herself, tidying up the desk as if this was the most normal situation in the world. "I've done quite a few shoots recently. I really enjoy it, I love seeing the effect it has on guys, it gives me a real thrill. And clearly my sales have gone from strength to strength!"
The accountant had placed the magazine back on the desk, the picture of Emily's gaping cunt staring proudly out at them. He was gathering his stuff, seeming quite flustered, his briefcase replacing the magazine in front of his crotch.
"Are you OK Johnathan?" Emily asked innocently. "It's fine, honestly. Here, take it home." She slid the copy of 'Wet and Open' into his bag, and he walked out with a dazed expression on his face. "I won't tell Sheila, don't worry." She called after him.
Emily realised that she had very few worries about people finding out now. Family might be different, but she didn't really care what they knew either. In a funny way, seeing Johnathan's reaction had opened a new door. She now found herself wanting to be present and unashamed when people she'd known all her life found out about her new interests.
Far from feeling any contrition, she was becoming intensely proud of herself. Johnathan and his wife Sheila had been guests at Stephen's christening, twenty years ago. Their children had attended each other's birthday parties, and Mike and Johnathan had even gone away on a golfing holiday, she recalled.
And now the accountant was heading home with a hard cock, no doubt to immediately wank over Emily cramming an aubergine into her shaven cunt. The next time she saw him, he'd likely have masturbated over her pictures many times. She liked this thought.
The only awkward one was Stephen. He was going to find out, no doubt. Emily put that to the back of her mind -- she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.
Emily's thoughts turned to what was next. She didn't like the fact that, after this month, she would no longer be available to buy and be masturbated over. Her stock of pictures from her photo session was exhausted. She needed to do something about that.
In a happy coincidence, the phone rang that very afternoon. It was Alan, the photographer responsible for all of the wonderful material that Emily was so grateful for.
"I thought you said those pictures were for your own personal use!" he started, sounding slightly indignant.
"Oh! Well, I decided they were so good, it seemed a shame to keep them hidden."
"How much did you get for them?"
"Nothing! I just sent them in, I didn't know whether they'd print them or not."
"Are you kidding me?"
"No!"
Yeah, well they were yours to do what you want with. But you are missing a trick. You do realise that those mags would all have paid well for all of those sets?"
"Really?" Emily knew the value of her work -- she couldn't fail to; she saw the effect on her pervs every day. But she liked to play the innocent and craved exposure much more than money.
"Really. Listen, I'm guessing from the fact that you've been seen in every jazz mag there is in the past month, that you don't have a problem with people seeing this stuff?"
