Working with Emma

For all that your girlfriend was the single horniest person you knew, her only competition really being Maeve and her autistic approach to wanting to have new sexual experiences, Sabrina had decided on a very firm line.

Even if it would make things easier, she was not going to do camera work for Emma. She would give tips on editing or any production stuff, and she would review content and give feedback for next time. She was even lending you out as the stunt cock. But she wouldn’t be in the same room or participate in any way with the actual process.

That meant, for the ‘teaser photos,’ Emma had two options - setting up the shots using tripods or one of you taking the photos. In the end, you split the difference - selfies had a certain voyeuristic flair to them, while PoV photos fed a bit more into the fantasy for a male viewer to put them in the moment of the video or photo. You’d take a couple of both and Emma could decide which to lean into later.

The real problem was figuring out where to take the photos.

It couldn’t be on the couch, near the balcony, showing any of the kitchen, showing anything of note in the bedroom, or any defining features of the bathroom - the goal was to make it as unlikely as possible that someone who happened to be a fan of both Sabrina and Emma wouldn’t be able to connect that they knew each other or filmed in the same space. You’d think that would be pretty easy, but Sabrina knew some horror stories about girls who did content wearing a mask getting outed because someone recognized a certain scuff on a wall and a picture frame, or the same shower curtains and bath mat.

And there was always the fact that you’d identified Sabrina by the pattern of the carpet at the office.

That was how, in the middle of the day, you ended up with the lights off, the door closed and the drapes and blinds tightly closed in Sabrina’s bedroom. She’d helped you move some of your bags around to make space in a corner of the room where there was some blank, plain carpet and the basic off-white walls didn’t have any distinguishing marks, and then she’d given you a kiss on the cheek, a pinch on the ass and shut you and her sister in the room.

“This feels kinda weird,” Emma said after a moment. “Not… sexy.”

You chuckled softly and nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “One thing I’ve figured out, doing this stuff with Sabrina, is that it does feel weird. A lot. There was one time when we were filming a threesome with a friend where we got like twenty minutes into it and pretty much had to stop and have a group meeting to figure out why it felt awkward as hell instead of fun.”

“How did you fix it?” Emma asked. “So far I’ve only done this sort of thing when I was already feeling turned on.”

“Well, that makes sense for you doing solo content,” you said, reaching towards her in the dim lighting and gesturing for her to give you her hand. She did, and you tugged her towards you. “The only time you need to sort of suddenly ‘be in the mood’ is if you’re going to do on-camera work with someone else. Luckily with me and Sabrina, we can get in the mood pretty damn quick. If we're going to work together I’m sure we’ll start to feel more natural about slipping into that mode too.”

“So you’re saying I’ll get used to it,” Emma smirked, looking down at you as she stood between your legs.

“I’m saying you and I will find a rhythm,” you said. “And that we don’t need to jump immediately, right away, into sex. We can ease into it.”

“I think you’re supposed to ease into me,” she said, making you snort.

“Do your parents have the same dirty humour as you and your sisters?” you asked, pulling her closer and then guiding her to get up on the bed with you, kneeling and straddling your lap.

“No,” Emma scoffed, letting you bring her hands up to your shoulders so that she was solidly close to you. “Well, actually, maybe. Kind of. I think they’ve mellowed out, the older we all get. Katherine can swear in the house whenever she wants now, and our Dad made a joke about how Mom was gonna be mad at him and not have sex for a week this summer and Mom just laughed. I was embarrassed as hell.”

“No one wants to think about their parents having sex,” you chuckled, running your hands up and down her outer thighs. “Now, how about we make out for a little bit and get comfortable?”

“That…” Emma started, her face stoic as usual, but she hesitated and looked you in the eye. “Communication and stuff, right?”

You frowned slightly and nodded. “That’s how we’ve always had the best sex with anyone.”

“Don’t ask me to do anything,” Emma said. “I get that you’re being, like, a gentleman or whatever. And making sure that little old me is comfortable and feeling safe and all that stuff. And, like, I appreciate that’s what you’re doing, but it doesn’t turn me on. Can we make a deal that I’ll tell you upfront if I’m not feeling it or open to sex, and if I don’t you just… take it?”

You swallowed, looking her in the eye and gauging her micro expression through her frustratingly stoic reaction. It really wasn’t so different from what you already had with your girlfriends, just more explicitly defined. But you knew Emma didn’t just mean initiating sex. She wanted you to take it.

“I can’t do that,” you said. “Not that I’m refusing, but if this is a deal t we both need to compromise. I’m never going to be able to just assume that since you haven’t said no, it’s an enthusiastic yes. So what I need you to do is whenever we’re together, you just look me in the eye and say yes pointedly, and I’ll act from there. Maybe immediately, maybe after a delay. The ‘yes’ is just you saying you’re enthusiastically open, not that it’s going to happen. After that, it will be my choice. Sound fair?”

It looked for a moment like Emma wanted to argue. So much so that you could practically feel a bratty response trying to bubble out of her. But Sabrina’s words from earlier must have latched on earlier as she hesitated and then clicked her mouth shut, cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. Finally, she nodded. “Yes,” she agreed.

“OK, good,” you nodded.

“Yes,” she repeated herself, looking into your eyes and saying it pointedly.

You put your hand on her chest, over her shirt and between her breasts, and slid it up to her tall, graceful neck and wrapped your fingers around her throat. She pressed a little harder against your hand, eyes locked with yours, and you used that handhold to slowly pull her closer until your lips were less than an inch apart.

“Kiss me,” you ordered her.

“Kiss me,” she demanded brattily.

It was the right time and the right place.

You used the hand not holding her by the neck to smack her little ass hard. She gasped and pressed forward, kissing you with hunger.

Emma was going to be a problem you would need to figure out over time, that was for sure.

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