Prime Curves
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Prime Assets Ch. 09 free porn video
It was extraordinary the way a blonde wig and a natural makeup look changed Jess’s appearance. On the sticky dancefloor of the Slough nightclub she looked just like another local girl out on the pull, albeit one with an endlessly cavorting pair of jiggling, braless torpedo breasts.
Emma got too drunk too quickly, but still had the eventual presence of mind to cajole Jess into the private car which the chauffeur had parked in a discreet side street, and at three a.m. the two ample-bosomed redheads collapsed, giggling onto the silk sheets of the king size bed in Jess’s rented apartment.
By the time Emma awoke, dry of mouth and pounding of headache, Jess had left for the studio. Emma helped herself to an ibuprofen and a big glass of grapefruit juice, showered off the night’s excesses, put on her own clothes and made her way to the railway station to return to the other side of London, and upon arrival at home just after 2pm she stripped nude and went straight back to bed for the afternoon to further sleep off the adrenalin.
The muffled sound of the television downstairs woke her. It was getting dark outside, and she drew the bedroom curtains, wrapped a short silk kimono as far round her bosom as it would go (it only just covered her nipples with the sash tied tightly, her former conservative self would never have worn it at all) and descended the stairs into the living room where Simon was eating his dinner and watching a movie. He glanced up with a double take, and Emma realised his viewing angle up the stairs from the sofa afforded him a good look up the kimono at her tufty ginger quim and neat pink pussy. She didn’t mind him looking.
‘Evening, Simon,’ Emma yawned, arms stretched and brazenly lifting the hem of the garment completely clear of her intimacy. ‘What are you watching?’
‘Puppies,’ said Simon.
‘I did my best to cover them up,’ said Emma, attempting to pull the kimono closed more comprehensively, but only succeeding in compressing her pale breasts into an outrageous and deeply fuckable cleavage.
‘No, the film Puppies.’ Simon held up the DVD case. Emma knew the film well, it was one of Jess Maitland’s early hits from some ten years previously, about a student who supplements her income by babysitting a neighbour’s troublesome two dogs. It had been followed a couple of years later by a sequel, ‘Pussies.’ Though ostensibly a piece of family entertainment, it was hard to deny that the film’s success might have had a lot to do with the two other ‘puppies’ that featured prominently throughout. Though Maitland could barely have been much older than eighteen when it had been made and her physique from the waist down more girlishly slight, her breasts were already the prematurely overdeveloped wobbling torpedoes she now possessed in adult life.
Emma sat in the armchair and crossed her legs, creamy thighs obstructing the view up her kimono. ‘I haven’t seen this one in years,’ she smiled, watching with fond nostalgia as the young red-haired actress chased the dogs on foot through Central Park in the film’s most famous scene. ‘Gosh, weren’t her boobies enormous, even back then!’
‘Enormous,’ nodded Simon. ‘And so… shapely.’
‘Did you know she did that whole film braless?’ said Emma with a sly look at Simon’s groin. He was wearing a short pair of shorts, and she was pretty sure she could make out the tip of his cock creeping down his left thigh. ‘She just taped her nipples down so they wouldn’t show through those skimpy tops. It’s a family movie, after all.’
‘You don’t say,’ mumbled Simon, watching Jess’s huge, perky breasts as they tumbled about in slow motion on screen.
‘Didn’t realise you were into kids’ films,’ teased Emma. ‘Bit old for that, surely?’
‘I’m just watching it for the tits,’ said Simon with unexpected candour. ‘Those firm, beautiful tits. They’re in every shot of the film, constantly on the verge of spilling out.’
‘You can masturbate if you like,’ said Emma softly. ‘I don’t mind. In fact, I’d like to watch you, if I may?’
Such was the level of sexual familiarity that the housemates had reached that Simon felt no embarrassment in placing his hand on his left thigh and rubbing his burgeoning erection through his navy chino shorts until, to Emma’s delight, the bulbous purple helmet emerged from beneath the hem, the dark opening winking and drooling as Jessica Maitland’s heaving, braless bosom bounded to and fro, up and down across the television screen in pursuit of her canine quarry. ‘Oh they’re magnificent,’ he moaned. ‘What I wouldn’t give to… to…’
‘To cum between them?’ asked Emma hopefully. An idea was forming. ‘I’ve touched them, you know. They’re as firm and fuckable as they ever were. Nipples permanently erect, too. She’s the horniest, most sex-obsessed woman I’ve ever met, and she’s spent the last few years married to a closet gay so those magnificent bosoms have been cruelly starved of cock and cum.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Simon nodded, slowly stroking his cock through his shorts, eyes locked unblinking on the heaving bounty in question.
‘How would you like it if I set you up with her? On a date?’
Cum shot out of the pulsating tip of Simon’s trapped erection at a hundred miles an hour, the first absurd eruption sailing half way across the room and draping itself over the coffee table, a rapid succession of secondary emissions coating his thigh and knee. ‘Are you serious?’ he gasped, staring at Emma once he had caught his breath.
Emma hurried over to sit next to him, pressing her right tit against his left arm. His right hand made its way into her kimono to knead and caress her left one as some final spurts of jism sputtered from his exposed cockhead. ‘I can’t guarantee it, but she’s asked me to vet potential boyfriends and I would be happy to recommend you. There’s certainly no doubt as to your preferences in a woman, and you’re the right age. Funny, I always assumed you preferred skinny flat-chested girls.’
‘Wh-why would you think that?’
‘I guess that’s what the media want us to think. I hear you, um, wanking in bed at night…’
‘Oh, um, sorry about that.’
‘It’s okay,’ laughed Emma, ‘It’s hardly as though we need to keep these things a secret any more, is it? Anyway, I always wondered who it was you were thinking about while pleasuring yourself, now I know it must have been the big-bosomed redhead Jessica Maitland!’
‘Sometimes,’ said Simon. ‘But mostly it was the big-bosomed redhead Emma Enderby.’
Emma was quite taken aback. ‘Oh, Simon!’
‘Sorry,’ blurted her landlord. ‘Too much information!’
‘Don’t be sorry!’ said Emma. ‘At least, not for that reason. I just wish you had told me earlier!’
‘But you’d have moved out.’
‘No I wouldn’t! I’d have insisted there and then that you get your cock out and wank all over me!’
‘Oh my…’
Emma cast her mind back over the time she had spent living in Simon’s house, and things began to make sense. ‘All that nonsense with the broken lock on the bathroom door and you walking in on me,’ she chuckled. ‘I was so embarrassed for you, I didn’t realise you were actually trying to see my bosoms!’
‘Erm, yes.’
Emma stood to face him. Her kimono hung open only just covering her delicate nipples but leaving her cutely rounded belly and bright red pubic thatch fully exposed. ‘All you had to say was this,’ she cleared her throat, ”Emma, take your top off, I want to see your bosoms.”
‘And you’d have done that?’
‘Try it.’
‘Um, Emma, take your top off, I want to see your b-bosoms.’
‘Not so nervously,’ laughed Emma. ‘With confidence.’
‘Take your top off, Emma. I want to see your bosoms.’
‘Oh Simon!’ giggled Emma. ‘With pleasure!’ She shimmied her shoulders and shook her big pale breasts until the kimono fell from her shoulders and she stood there fully nude while Simon’s cock underwent a spontaneous and clearly rather painful
dry-heave orgasm. ‘Here they are,’ Emma announced, giving her puppies a gently meandering wiggle. ‘As requested!’
‘Christ,’ choked Simon.
‘We’ll need to work on your stamina if you’re to withstand an evening with Jessica. Can’t have you spunking in your trousers the minute you see her braless boobs,’ said Emma. ‘Though I realise my boobs are somewhat… special, in that regard. Here, remind yourself of what mine feel like.’ She straddled him and sat down, nude, on his thighs, feeling the cold, congealing puddle of fresh sperm on her right buttock, then leaned forward and dangled her large bare breasts in front of Simon’s face.
Simon raised trembling hands and planted them on the pale pink udders that swayed before him, and moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head. Emma gave a quiet shudder of pleasure, too. There was something particularly sensitive about Simon’s way with her breasts, as though borne of some deeper understanding of what a woman enjoyed about having them played with.
‘Now,’ said Emma, idly unfastening Simon’s shorts and fumbling for his cock while it was still flaccid enough to extract from the leg of his shorts, ‘The first thing you need to know about Jessica’s boobs is that they are much firmer than mine. Dense and solid.’
‘B-but yours are really quite firm,’ said Simon, giving Emma’s breasts a slight exploratory squeeze. He winced as his cock began stiffening yet again.
‘Aw, thank-you, Simon,’ Emma grinned at the flattery. ‘Yes, I rather like them like this, firm enough to hold their shape, but soft enough to bounce and jiggle in that nice sexy way.’ She shimmied her shoulders again, allowing her big boobs to jelly in Simon’s hands, relishing the feeling of his taut penis thickening in her own hand as a direct consequence.
‘Fuck me,’ moaned Simon in awe.
‘If you insist,’ said Emma, wilfully misunderstanding him. She wasn’t about to waste a recently spent but nonetheless already rigidly hard erection, and couldn’t believe her luck as she positioned her moist pussy lips directly above Simon’s yearning member, then swiftly descended, allowing it to fill her up, her vaginal passage fitting it like a glove. She then seized his wrists and pulled his pawing hands free of her breasts, allowing her bounty to wobble and jiggle freely as she bucked up and down, fucking his hard cock with gleeful abandon, then arched her back and leaned forward until her cavorting tits motorboated his startled face, boxing his ears and stifling his whimpers of protest. His tongue flicked at a passing nipple, and Emma felt the surge of joy connect her pleasure centres. But, while she was perfectly content to orgasm the traditional way, it was an electric titgasm she craved most deeply. ‘Oh Christ, Simon,’ she squealed as she fucked herself to happy heights using his hard, jizzed-out erection.
Simon groped and squeezed until he announced that his balls were beginning to feel full again, and that he was feeling the beginnings of another orgasm.
‘All over my tits,’ said Emma, dismounting in a hurry and dropping to the carpet on her knees, allowing Simon’s twitching, red-raw boner to penetrate the deep, tight gorge of her cleavage.
‘B-but, you were in the middle of… don’t you want to finish…?’
How sweet of Simon to care about her womanly, orgasmic needs. ‘Don’t you worry,’ she smiled, as she began to massage his rigidity with her spongy, marshmallow-textured boobs. ‘It’s going to feel so much nicer like this. Let’s finish each other off with a good old-fashioned titwank.’
‘It’s what those jugs of yours were made for,’ laughed Simon in nervous relief as he gave himself and his genitals over to his redheaded tenant and her pale, feminine bounty. He promptly began to ejaculate between and onto Emma’s breasts as they made their way up and down his sensitive shaft, his face contorted with the mixture of relief and extreme overwrought discomfort he was experiencing.
Emma, too, experienced the teasing torture of a protracted conclusion to her initial clitoral orgasm, each descent of her ticklish bosom onto Simon’s spasmodically bucking hips sending waves of boobgasmic warmth washing, metaphorically, over her, while actual spurts of semen washed over her in a very real sense. What those eruptions lacked in firework spectacle they made up for in total volume, a lazy river of woozy white cream pouring forth in sticky tribute to those miraculous breasts of hers. She was getting the hang of this, of reining in her own desires while controlling the desires of her partners. Keep the tits under wraps for long enough to get her own kicks, or simply milk the guy’s cock dry enough to give them some stamina while still leaving enough in their balls to have some fun with. And the load which Simon was now pumping so generously onto her ponderously bouncing bosom was more than acceptable as a mutually satisfying culmination to their curious and unexpected evening of… lovemaking? No, love didn’t really come into this. It was something unavoidable, a clearing of the air, a practical gesture by both parties, necessitated by the otherwise unmanageable levels of sexual tension that had gone unacknowledged for so long. And both of them were belatedly exploring their hitherto unspoken fetishes: Simon’s fetish for her breasts, and Emma’s fetish for… well, for her own breasts. She wasn’t fetishising Simon’s cock. It was a perfectly serviceable cock of average size with no particular flaws, but there was nothing about it that inherently turned Emma on for reasons she could not control or understand. No, the mystery at whose mercy she so helplessly lay was her own tits, and the sheer unbridled ecstasy they were capable of supplying to her (and, as a byproduct, to the men caught in the crossfire).
As they cleaned themselves up in the shower, Simon made an awkward attempt to kiss Emma on the lips, but Emma turned her head firmly but politely away, then gave his cock, stiffening again, a soapy rub with her hand by way of apology, and insisted that he dream up new burlesque act ideas for her during his bedtime masturbation session that night.
****
‘Rebekah, it’s Emma. How are you?’
‘Emma! Oh sweetheart, you’ve no idea how good it is to hear from you again. I’m so sorry for being such a sulky bitch.’
‘I’ve some explaining to do, too. We should meet.’
‘You free tomorrow during the day?’
‘Yes, as it happens?’
‘What shall we do?’
‘Well, you know that nudist spa you were always telling me about, but I was always too shy to go…?’
The next morning, Rebekah was already waiting at the spa reception when Emma arrived, out of breath, chest rebounding in a braless fluster. Rebekah gave her a big grin, and opened her arms for a big hug. Two pairs of monster breasts collided and commingled, together again at last, Rebekah’s 60’s pin-up torpedoes driving firmly into Emma’s squishy globes of tit.
‘Ooh, going braless, Em?’ Rebekah held Emma’s shoulders and took a step back, gazing down in admiration at Emma’s naturally tight cleavage, rising from the hem of a tight white crop-top. ‘I wouldn’t have known to look, but fucking hell, I’d forgotten what a pair you had. So… perfect. If I were a man I’d be exploding jism all over them right now!’
An elderly couple gave her a look of distaste as they passed on their way to the turnstile. Emma giggled at the awkwardness, then her face turned serious. ‘You joke, Bex, but that’s the problem.’
As they paid and passed through the entrance, meandering about the non-nude vestibules on the way to the changing room, the two caught up. Rebekah’s boyfriend’s orgasm at the burlesque night upon seeing Emma’s bared, jiggling nipples, had merely been the tip of an iceberg of problems in their relationship, and subsequently past infidelities on his part had come to light. In short, the Emma-induced indiscretion had been for the best. Emma’s news was, of course, far more exciting: the agency, the contemporary art world, her
movie nude-double career, her friendship with film star Jessica Maitland, all of which new astonished and delighted Rebekah.
‘But,’ Emma caveated with a weary shrug, ‘It comes at a price.’ And she explained the poorly-understood but reliably reproducable phenomenon of ‘cum on the spot’ breasts.
‘That’s crazy,’ half-laughed Rebekah. They had reached the mixed changing room and were stowing attire and belongings in their locker as they discarded them. Rebekah was down to pointy vintage glamour-girl bra and frilly panties, Emma bottomless in her crop-top.
It being a weekday morning the changing room was largely deserted. A late-middle-aged man with orange skin and white chest hair pulled a towel from his hold-all, his long cock visibly thickening in this voluptuous company. ‘Morning, ladies,’ he winked, clearly dawdling in the anticipation of bosomy liberation.
‘Here, watch,’ Emma said quietly to Rebekah, and, turning to face their male audience, peeled off the thin crop-top, baring her sumptuous pale breasts and giving them a gratuitous wobble as she wrestled the garment through her ginger curls.
The rope of yellowish-white cum that erupted from the swollen helmet of the ageing fellow’s suddenly-formed erection missed Emma entirely, sailing past her and pelting Rebekah’s left bra cup instead, several thick payloads before the cumshots started to diminish in volume ans frequency to decorative watery lines across the floor.
Rebekah, initially speechless, finally exclaimed, ‘My bra!’ And pointed in dismay at the now unlaunderably jism-soiled expanse of silk. ‘These things cost a fortune!’
Semi-erection still recoiling and spasming helplessly in the presence of Emma’s glowing, softly jellying amplitude, the leathery-skinned nudist fumbled in his bag and approached Rebekah with a business card. ‘Here,’ he wheezed, failing to take his eyes off the bosom Emma was calmly flaunting. He proffered his card in Rebekah’s general direction. ‘My card. I’ll take you bra shopping whenever you want. Both of you. I mean, both girls, not both… you know.’
Slipping in a puddle of his own bodily fluids, he stumbled toward the door to the resort. ‘I’m really very, very sorry,’ he blathered over his shoulder, wiping the gloopy tip of his twitching member with his towel. ‘I promise that’s never happened before. Well, except for my last prostate exam.’
Rebekah stared in stunned silence, first at the retreating figure, then at the sluglike silvery trail he left in his wake on the tiled floor, then at Emma’s swaying boobs, then at Emma’s resigned face. ‘Insane!’ she managed to utter. Then, eyes widening, ‘Come on, let’s have some fun.’ She whipped off knickers and spunky bra, slammed shut the locker, handed Emma a towel and, grabbing her dainty hand, dragged her newly rekindled, amusedly reluctant friend through the door and into the sunlight.
The towels provided by the management were too small to cover up the bountiful duo’s entire bodies. Rebekah, opted to wrap hers around her waist to cover her already bald-shaved pussy, leaving her pale, swollen areolae to bob and sway in full view at the summits of her solid, conical breasts. Emma, so as not to find herself instantly coated in a spontaneous shower of ejaculate, used her towel to cover up her upper expanses, the corners knotted tightly before her and forcing two billowing mounds of white bosom up towards her chin and leaving a generous amount of under-cleavage on full view. It was the nipples which seemed to be the important thing to cover up. Her cute, thickly tufted patch of ginger pubic hair performed the not especially effective role of preserving what remained of her modesty as the two mingled among the nude and semi-covered patrons of the health spa.
The place wasn’t especially crowded, but there was a reasonable attendance level for a weekday. The unseasonably sunny weather probably helped. All around them, young and old men and women grinned and scowled respectively as they sauntered about in search of a nice spot to settle.
Tammi
- 16.08.2020
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