Prime Curves
- 1 year ago
- 35
- 0
Prime Assets Ch. 10 free porn video
Emma contacted the Booby Trap club and booked herself in for an open spot the following week, then began going back through the notes and ideas for stage routines that she had brainstormed with Simon over the last few weeks. Her various misadventures in the employ of the Prime Assets agency had had mixed success, and while they had certainly facilitated a belated and invigorating sexual awakening and more than paid off the rent she owed, her true ambitions still lay in the world of cabaret and burlesque. It was the dream that had set off this alarming and jism-splattered chain of events, and she had still only had the one disastrous gig under her sequinned belt, an ignominious track record that still nagged at her, begging for a second chance to raise the roof without raising the audience’s erections past ejaculation point. All she needed to do was to keep her errant nipples in check, concealed from view, and that was simply a matter of keeping pasties and tassels securely adhered. If she could keep her male audience on the endless, teasing brink of orgasm while maintaining their undivided, rigidly erect attention, then she’d have a winner on her hands. Or, put another way: the state she sought to bring about in a spectator was, she realised, exactly the same state she desired in a lover.
And what better place to do this than The Booby Trap, a burlesque night where she and her sensuous-bosomed kind were welcome and appreciated, encouraged and rewarded.
‘Morning, Simon,’ she sang, lightly rapping on her landlord’s bedroom door. She was clad in beige T-shirt bra and black lace knickers, fresh from the shower. It was early, a work day for Simon, and she was keen to ensure that he did not oversleep. She also wanted an excuse to enter his bedroom in her underwear.
A moan from within suggested that Simon was awake.
Carefully balancing the mug of tea she had brewed him, she pushed open the door. Simon was on his back in bed, the cotton sheet forming an obscene tent over his morning erection.
‘Emma,’ he murmured, eyes closed.
‘Yes, Simon, it’s me,’ Emma took a step closer.
‘Oh Emma,’ Simon continued, and the cock-tent twitched and shuddered.
It dawned in Emma that Simon was talking in his sleep, and that the only part of him that had yet awoken was his horny, throbbing member.
His hands and fingers twitched by his sides. ‘Oh Emma, those tits,’ he babbled dreamily a smile spreading across his happy slumbering face.
Emma giggled to herself. What fun! He was actually having a sexy dream about her! Setting the mug of tea on his bedside table, she carefully began to draw back the sheet from his body. She found that it was stuck quite firmly to his chest and stomach where, it seemed, he had ejaculated rather a lot before going to sleep, or during the night (or both), and she had to rip it free with the utmost delicacy to avoid waking Simon and startling him unduly. She tugged down the right cup of her bra and allowed her tit to surge and billow forth, depositing it in his sleeping hand while she performed the highly sensitive task of unsticking the cotton sheet from the semen-encrusted head of his furious cock.
‘Mmmmmhm,’ Simon moaned as his fingers sank semi-consciously into pillowy pale boobflesh.
A shiver went up Emma’s spine at the welcome manual attention being paid instinctively to her exposed right breast. Goosebumps raced across her skin, homing in on her inverted right nipple which came close to popping out of its small puffy areola home. Meanwhile, one deft tug at the sheet and there was Simon’s shaft in its sweeping, animal rectitude, its tit-starved helmet the size and colour of a small plum. Maybe even, thought Emma with a naughty thrill, the same flavour? She parted her lips, closed her eyes, and, as her right tit underwent its continued somnambulist groping, allowed Simon’s cockhead to enter her mouth. The tip of her tongue met the drizzling opening at its pinnacle and, unsurprisingly, it didn’t taste of plum but rather of that familiar pungent, bleachy fug, partly stale and ripening, partly fresh and saline. Relatively inexperienced sexually (the past few weeks notwithstanding), Emma was particularly far from her comfort zone where fellatio was concerned. What prowess she had believed to have had in administering handjobs she was now, in retrospect, able to attribute with some disappointment in abilities to the natural effect of her bare breasts – every climax, she now recalled, coincided with her jostling bosom’s bursting free from whatever top or bra she had been wearing at the time – and so she had no reason to believe that she’d be any better at sucking someone off. Nor could she see how the act could inspire the same pleasure in her as a protracted titfuck, or even prosaic old penetrative intercourse.
Simon’s hips bucked as he slept, and Emma realised that he was fucking her mouth. Just a slight in and out of that sensitive purple plum, but it was pretty clear to Emma what was going on in Simon’s dirty dream. She tightened her lips a little, trying to emulate the constriction offered by her tight little cunt. Pre-cum began to stream more copiously into her mouth, and as she she began with growing alarm to gulp the liquid down a teaspoonful at a time, she decided that she wasn’t quite ready for the full-on act of swallowing what she had come to expect would be a generous load.
So she raised her left hand and, closing her fingers gently around the seesawing, veiny member so as not to disorientated the blissfully sleepfucking young man, parted her lips and retreated, giving the streaming eye a salty flick of the tongue as she went. Now, Simon was fucking her hand while his own hand still jellied her exposed right breast in mutually satisfying manner.
What an opportunity, she thought. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, ‘Please fuck my tits, Simon, please,’ and, as the smile spread from ear to ear and the guttural groan from his throats indicated that, yes, this would be an excellent development for his dream world, Emma softly pried her landlord’s hand from her boob, knelt up by the side of the bed, tugged down her left bra cup and, with the remainder of the undergarment holding her chest in place, raised Simon’s erection as vertically as it would go and proceeded to insert it into her cleavage, titfucking him from the side. Round and round her soft, warm bosom squirmed, massaging Simon’s morning glory so effectively by itself that she didn’t even require the use of her hands, instead she lightly stroked Simon’s scruffy hair which emerged from the deep folds of the pillow. How good that cock felt in there, Emma smiled to herself, inhaling deeply the scent of Simon’s obsession with her admittedly magnificent double-Fs.
‘I love…’ Simon began in his sleep, then trailed off.
Emma’s ears pricked up. She continued to fuck his cock round and round with her tight, comfy cleavage, but withdrew her hand from fondling his bedhead hair.
‘I love… I love your tits…’ And with that pronouncement, he began to ejaculate, a couple of sudden, powerful arcs that hit the wall above his head, followed by a steady succession of long, pumping garlands of milky white down the side and front of Emma’s rounded right boob, until Simon’s thick, wilting penis disappeared entirely out of view to leave in its place a lake of translucent semen pooled in the cleavage under Emma’s chin. Simon’s head lolled to the side and he let out a deeply unsexy snore. It was still twenty minutes until his seven o’clock alarm.
Suppressing a fond chuckle, Emma stood, carefully so as to let Simon’s slumbering, post-ejaculatory cock fall gently onto his thigh. Bosom cupped in hands and cleavage as precariously brim full of semen as the breakfast mug had been brim full of tea when she had tip-toed in, she tip-toed back out again.
*****
Rebekah had, to Emma’s mild surprise, taken up the tanned nudist’s offer of taking her bra shopping to compensate for the spe
rmy stain he had so violently ejaculated onto the one she had been wearing in the spa changing room when Emma had flashed him, and so it was laden with bags from Storm In A G-Cup and other specialist lingerie boutiques that she turned up at the house later that day.
‘I think he thought he’d be able to come into the fitting rooms and watch me heave my melons in and out of bra after bra,’ she cackled as Emma handed her an instant coffee in Simon’s living room. ‘Instead he had to sit in the shop for ages and then foot the bill. Great way to get free bras. We should run this as a racket on a regular basis!’
Emma clicked her tongue and deposited her round bottom in the armchair opposite her friend. ‘You’re a terrible influence, Bex! But we can hardly go back to the spa. They’d recognise us in an instant.’
‘My bra benefactor didn’t. Maybe he’d already left by the time you set off everyone else’s cocks.’ Her eyes glazed a little as she pictured the scene again. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ she said, regarding Emma with awe. ‘And I’ve never had so much cum all over me, either!’
‘Hey, I don’t make a habit of it.’
‘Whatever, it’s good to see you come out of your shell at last. Especially given what it turns out you’ve been hiding under that shell all along!’
Emma rolled her eyes.
‘And speaking of your tits,’ continued Rebekah, setting her mug down on the expansively cum-stained coffee-table, ‘Let’s talk about your act for this new busty burlesque place!’
This was why Emma had invited her friend over, another brainstorming session, this time with a fellow boob-owner to balance out the views of an obsessive boob-fetishist (welcome and appreciated though those orgasmic reactions were). The two put their heads together reminiscing over occasions of accidental topless nudity they had experienced in the past, as a starting point for the brand of slapstick striptease Emma was keen to pursue.
‘Remember I always used to forget to wear a bra to school?’ Rebekah reminisced, ‘Even when I went past being an F-cup. I hated bras, they never fit me properly, and my nipples are so pale that they never showed through my blouse. Except that one time I was smoking in the girls’ loos and it set off the sprinkler system. As punishment next lesson I had to give a presentation in front of the whole class on the health hazards of smoking in a soaking wet, transparent blouse. Remember? The cold made my nips dark and erect. Everyone could see everything!’
‘That’s not a very happy story,’ frowned Emma.
‘Are you kidding? I fucked three of the boys in the next break. Had my first orgasm behind the bike shed!’
‘I’m trying to avoid that,’ said Emma. ‘Giving boys orgasms. Bad for business in the burlesque trade.’
‘Okay,’ said Rebekah, idly stroking her tit with a manicured finger as she went through her bosomy memories. ‘Cheeky wardrobe malfunctions is what we’re aftee, right?’
Emma nodded.
‘What about your tapdancing story? Where your juicy young titties bounced out of your costume?’
‘No,’ Emma’s face darkened as she thought of the ejaculating man with the straggly blond hair and the years of trauma and bodily insecurity the incident had caused her. ‘I really don’t want to revisit that.’
‘Sure, sure,’ Rebekah apologized hastily. ‘Understood. Did I ever tell you about my braless bungee jump? Hanging there upside down with my sweater inside out over my face with my huge boobs bungeeing around in front of everyone at the village fete?’
‘Can’t really bungee jump in a tiny cabaret bar,’ frowned Emma. ‘But it’s along the right lines.’
‘I’ve flashed my jugs in public more times than I can recall,’ said Rebekah thoughtfully. ‘I could write a memoir on the subject.’
‘A ‘mammoir’,’ said Emma, and the two collapses in fits of giggles at the thought. Rebekah’s shoulders jumped up and down so much as she laughed that, ironically, her plump left nipple, pink, swollen, and shiny, wobbled its way free of the cup of her new bra and the hem of her white top until it lay stark naked, laughing along merrily with the girls. Emma saw this, pointed and shrieked with renewed hysteria, then began the process of trying to replicate the nipple-slipping feat, cheating a little by tugging bra and top down a little to help her quivering nipple on its mirthful journey to freedom. ‘Oh you’re so much better at this than I am,’ said Emma as her shimmying still failed to yield a naked nipple. ‘You’re a natural!’
‘All natural,’ winked Rebekah, slapping her tit. ‘Despite what many people assume. And yeah, bigger nipples are much easier to dislodge than tiny ones like yours.’
‘Oh sod it,’ snapped Emma and yanked her top and bra down all the way, letting her creamy, pink-nippled globes wobble forth. ‘That’s better! Feels so gooood to let them free, doesn’t it?’
‘I think I’ll join you,’ said Rebekah, and likewise tugged bra and vest down under her firm torpedo breasts, sighing with pleasure as they surged forward in relief, expanding to what looked like twice the size they had been while under the physical constraint of the new bra. ‘There, that’s better. Should have thought to get our knockers out sooner, shouldn’t we, for inspiration!’
Emma nodded eagerly, her soft nude orbs nodding along in agreement. ‘You’re staring,’ she said eventually.
‘Hypnotised,’ laughed Rebekah. ‘Can’t take my eyes off them, especially now I know the power they have! Got to work on my eye contact.’
‘Eye contact,’ murmured Emma. ‘Perhaps there’s something in that?’
The two spent the next hour bouncing ideas (and breasts) about, excitedly developing this eye-contact theme, and Rebekah was already drawing eyelashes onto the huge blue and white sequin eyes affixed over Emma’s nipples when a key turning in the front door made her look up sharply and turn her head to see through the open living room door and down the hallway at the silhouette through the frosted glass.
Emma reassured her. ‘Oh, that’ll be Simon home from work.’
‘Shit, my tits are still hanging out,’ Rebekah said, and began the difficult task of extracting top and bra cups from deep beneath her jutting bare bosom. ‘I had clean forgotten.’
‘I’m home!’ called Simon, stepping into the living room and doing a startled double-take at the two semi-nude young women.
Emma smiled. ‘Simon, this is Rebekah. She’s helping me with my new act, I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Simon with a dry mouth, extending a hand to shake.
Rebekah rose from her crouching position in front of Emma and stumbled forward to greet Simon, though her left breast collided with his outstretched hand long before her own hand could get there. ‘Sorry,’ she grinned awkwardly as her bare tit rebounded and she finally shook Simon’ hand. ‘Didn’t have time to cover the girls up. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Not in the slightest,’ said Simon, gazing in unabashed awe at Rebekah’s shapely double-Gs. ‘They’re magnificent!’
‘Why thank-you! What a gentleman,’ gushed Rebekah. She turned to Emma. ‘I like him. He has excellent taste.’
‘I’ve been encouraging him to speak his mind when it comes to these matters,’ said Emma.
‘Quite right,’ nodded Rebekah. ‘No sense in bottling these things up. Got to let it all out.’
‘Would you like to join us working on my burlesque act, Simon?’ asked Emma hopefully. She glanced at the tumescent bulge in his suit trousers and flicked her tongue across her lips.
‘I’d love to, ladies,’ said Simon, ‘But I’ve my big date with Jess later. I’m just home quickly to get ready and then I’m heading straight back out again.’
‘Oh goodness I completely forgot that was tonight,’ squealed Emma, her hands flying to her rosy cheeks, elbows compressing her large sequined breasts together to create an absurd, inviting cleavage. ‘If that erection is anything to go by, you’ve been going crazy with anticipation all day!’
‘You’re not kidding,
‘ cringed Simon. ‘I’ve thought about nothing but those tits. I’m a walking erection. Look!’ He gestured unnecessarily at his conspicuously tented groin. ‘Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep one of these things discreet?’
‘We can’t have you meeting Jess in that state,’ fussed Emma. ‘You’ll go off like a fire hydrant the moment you meet. Where’s the date?’
‘At the apartment she’s renting in West London.’
‘Then she clearly has designs on that tit-obsessed cock of yours,’ said Emma. ‘You’re going to need to let off some pressure before you go, or you’re not going to last five seconds with her. Need some help?’
‘Believe it or not, you’ve helped already today, Emma,’ said Simon with a coy smile. ‘I dreamt this morning that you were titfucking me, came in my sleep!’
Emma cleared her throat and shuffled on the spot, looking down at the floor as she reddened.
Rebekah stared at Emma, then Simon. ‘Wow, you two really don’t hold back on the sex talk, do you?’
Simon shrugged. ‘I’ve Emma to thank for that. She’s really help me discover myself. And speaking of discovering myself, I’m going for a wank.’
He made towards the stairs, but Emma stopped him. ‘You will do no such thing,’ she purred. ‘Not when you’ve two pairs of creditable breasts right here in the room with you.’
‘Here, practise on me!’ blurted Rebekah, a little too eagerly. She grabbed Simon by the belt and pulled him toward her.
‘Hey, he’s mine!’ jibed Emma good-naturedly.
‘You owe me this one after interrupting that titfuck at the spa,’ said Rebekah, unwittingly rousing Emma’s suspicion over the way the gentleman in question had access to Dr Harding’s experimental breast-resistance drugs.
‘If you’re sure?’ said Simon. ‘I’d really appreciate the practice, if nothing else.’ He hastily unbuckled his belt and extracted his erection which twanged fiercely to attention.
‘Now there’s a man who appreciates a nice pair of breasts!’ grinned Rebekah as gazed down through her cleavage at the bright red and purple hard-on that twitched before her. She perched her boyish bottom on the edge of the sofa and aimed her torpedo breasts either side of Simon’s cock. ‘When you say practice, I take it you mean in titfucking?’
Simon nodded. He glanced up at Emma as though requesting permission to park his cock in her friend’s cleavage. Emma smiled and winked her approval, but then bit her bottom lip in envy as Simon took a step forward and slowly penetrated Rebekah’s generous bosom. ‘Christ alive,’ he grunted, as the sexual sensation clearly overwhelmed him.
‘Nice cock, Simon,’ Rebekah noted, echoing Emma’s opinion of her landlord’s reproductive organ. ‘And a perfect fit for my cleavage… oh… oh my!’ Her eyes and mouth gaped open and she gasped in pleasure and surprise as Simon’s erection disappeared all the way between her breasts and his hips met her turgid, swollen nipples. It was as though her vagina was getting the attention. ‘I can feel how turned on you are. It’s lovely.’
Simon placed his hands on the vast sides of Rebekah’s breasts, steadying them and exploring them as he began, very slowly, to fuck them. ‘Oh – Rebekah, was that your name? – Oh Rebekah, they’re so firm,’ he exclaimed, probing and kneading Rebekah’s unyielding chest as best he could. ‘So dense!’ He picked up the tempo as his enthusiasm for Rebekah’s breasts grew along with his ever-stiffening cock.
Emma’s nipples were safely buried under the dozens of sparkly sequins that made up the decorative eyes that were the climax of this new act, so while her otherwise bare and wobbling bosom was no doubt contributing to Simon’s sexual excitement, there was no risk of it stealing Rebekah’s busty thunder and sending him prematurely over the edge. Watching with a mixture of fascination and jealousy, she decided to get involved as a bystander. ‘To give you a sense of what you will, we hope, get to experience with Jess later,’ she said, ‘Her breasts are a bit firmer than mine and a bit squishier than Rebekah’s. They have that same pointy shape, but hang a bit lower and heavier. In a very sexy way, of course, not hanging around her waist! And her nipples are a dark rose colour and rather stiff. Like nice big suckable rubber baby-bottle tops.’ She idly slipped a finger past her rounded stomach and under the waistband of the white cotton knickers she had stripped down to.
Becky
- 14.11.2021
- 24
- 0
