Coming Together With Curves

by Victoria Blisse

  Coming Together: With Curves

  Victoria Blisse & Lucy Felthouse, editors

  Copyright © 2013 Coming Together & individual authors

  All digital rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  Cover art © 2012 Alessia Brio

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A Coming Together Publication

  EroticAnthology.com

  License Notes

  Piracy robs authors of the income they need to be able to continue to write books for readers to enjoy. This ebook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of ONE reader only. This ebook may not be re-sold or copied. To do so is not only unethical, it's illegal. This ebook may not be forwarded via email, posted on personal websites, uploaded to file sharing sites, or printed and distributed. To share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each intended recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you, please notify the author immediately. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this—and every—author.

  Table of Contents

  Introduction © Lucy Felthouse

  Six Lengths of Red Hemp © Tilly Hunter

  Cross Trainer Number Four © Lily Harlem

  Bella Buxom, Just Squeeze Me © JoAnne Kenrick

  Captivated © Elizabeth Lapthorne

  Red Rag to a Bull © Victoria Blisse

  Girl Next Door © Bella Blake

  Lush Buns © Sommer Marsden

  The Big Reveal © Giselle Renarde

  The Wrong End of the Stick © Lucy Felthouse

  Riding School © Bella Blake

  Flesh for Fantasy © Lexie Bay

  About the Authors

  About the Editors

  About Coming Together © Alessia Brio

  Introduction

  Hello and welcome. If you're reading this, myself and fellow editor Victoria Blisse send you many, many thanks. You've spent some of your hard earned cash on an anthology that we have put together in order to make a difference. Every single penny, cent, etc of profit goes to a worthy charity – Parkinson's UK. Victoria and I have donated our time because we both have family members who have this cruel, progressive disease, and we'd very much like to see changes for those that suffer. In the short term, we'd love to see people receiving more effective treatment and better care, and hopefully in the long term, the complete eradication of Parkinson's. Also, it's not the easiest condition to recognise and diagnose, so raising awareness is also very important.

  The charity itself funds research into Parkinson's, offers friendship and support to sufferers and their families and friends, campaigns to ensure people with the condition are treated fairly, provides help from specialist nurses, improves understanding, dispels myths, changes attitudes and much more. Find out more at http://www.parkinsons.org.uk.

  So again, we thank you for purchasing this book (if you have an illegal download, then you're not only breaking the law, you're also robbing the charity of well deserved donations), and very much hope you enjoy it.

  Special thanks also go to the founder of Coming Together, Alessia Brio, who has dedicated much time over the years in order to help various charities the world over. You are an inspiration.

  Victoria, of course, deserves much gratitude for listening to my idea (and not running a mile) for putting together a charity anthology and being such a brilliant co-editor, supporter and friend. Thanks, fellow Northern Bird!

  Last, but most definitely not least, huge thanks to the authors, who have donated these wonderful stories to this anthology from the goodness of their hearts and to help make a difference. You all rock!

  Now, without further ado, on to the hot Rubenesque erotica! I present Coming Together: With Curves.

  Lucy Felthouse

  Six Lengths of Red Hemp

  © Tilly Hunter

  Louisa turned the pages with awe. The photographs were some of the most beautiful erotic art she had ever seen. The scarlet red dye of hemp ropes contrasted startlingly with the lush green of leaves and mosses in the Japanese garden where they had been taken. Dampened skin brought out every contour of the model's body. Her body.

  "Thank you Dan," she said, brushing her fingers over the glossy surface. "They're so beautiful. I can barely express how beautiful."

  "I'm just so glad you like them," he said. "I knew they'd be amazing. You're amazing."

  Daniel had arranged the photo shoot as a birthday present. Louisa was happy being a big woman. She'd always had a generous figure and dressed to flatter it, not hide it under baggy layers as some of her friends did. But that nagging doubt of what her former partners thought when she was naked in bed had always remained. That consciousness of her belly sagging towards the mattress if they took her doggy style, the flop of her F-cup breasts to the sides as she lay on her back.

  She'd stopped worrying about those things with Dan. He loved to make her butt ripple with the spank of his palm. The bulge of her flesh between ropes became part of the beauty he created as he wove her into a work of art.

  "If you were skinny it'd be like tying up a plastic mannequin," Dan would say. "Not exactly sensual. And it's a much better effect when I spank you. I know that ripple goes all the way to your pussy."

  The thought made Louisa's limbs wobbly. She loved being tied up. The moment she felt rope on her skin, her pussy would swell and dampen. She'd messed about with other boyfriends but it was only Dan who'd really been ready to explore all the possibilities with her. And with whom she'd started to feel truly comfortable in her ropes. He loved to wrap her round and round with scarlet hemp, or white cotton, or scratchy, undyed jute.

  When she met him, he already had a collection of art that included Botticelli prints and a replica cast of the little Venus of Willendorf statue with her round belly and full breasts. His print of Woman After Bathing by Renoir was the one he loved the best, the long slope of the woman's back under her piled-up hair. Louisa soon realised she didn't have to settle for the hope that her personality would dazzle him into forgetting she wasn't built like a supermodel. Dan had first struck up a conversation precisely because of that fact.

  Most of all, he loved to blindfold her, then tie her in intricate shibari in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom. The ropes would vibrate against Louisa's body as he pulled each length through, the weave rubbing against itself and thrumming through her skin. She would try to guess where the rope would be wound next and when she would feel its embrace against her pussy. It wouldn't take long for her mouth to fall open and the little gasps of longing to start in her throat. She struggled to remain still, fighting the desire to writhe against the restraints. Dan would take his time, and then, when he was completely satisfied with his work, he would draw off the blindfold and allow Louisa to study herself in the mirror.

  Now she had other images to study. The photographer, Jonas, a pal of Daniel's, had provided them with a beautiful, leather-bound album of pictures. Flicking through, Louisa saw herself bound to the trunk of a big old sycamore, dangling on tip toes from a branch, hogtied on a slick slab of wet slate, bent over a mossy stone bench with her ass red from spanking. But the pièce de résistance was a four foot by three foot framed, glossy print of Louisa in a stunning suspension, her body curved gracefully backwards as it hung from a maple in the spray of a rocky waterfall.

  Jonas had spent time in Japan as a student and ended up going back there after his degree, teaching English
while he built up his photography business. Now, having become internationally renowned for his fetish images, he had returned to London for the sake of his business. But he had created a little piece of his beloved Kyoto in the walled garden of his city home. Louisa and Dan had visited in April, when the acer leaves had just burst forth from their buds in vivid glory. The pumped waterfall looked as if it had always been there, tumbling over shining grey rocks and leaving a fine mist in the air.

  The day had been warm and the garden sheltered from breeze. That waterfall's mist had cooled her skin just enough to make her tremble.

  "I think we should hang it over our bed," Dan said.

  "What if someone sees it though? God, imagine if my mum walks in here one day."

  "And when was the last time your mum went in our bedroom? She hardly ever comes here anyway."

  Dan was right, Louisa's family lived at the other end of the country and didn't like to travel. Dan and Louisa usually went to visit them.

  "Okay," she said. "It is beautiful. He's made me look like I'm part of the garden. Imagine that, a garden full of fat women hanging from every tree." Louisa laughed. She didn't like all these euphemisms people used to get around the word fat. She wanted to own those three letters, turn them into something to celebrate.

  "Mmm, you're giving me ideas. You'd be the centrepiece though. Maybe you could be standing on a pedestal like a magnificent Grecian statue. Draped in some flimsy, see-through robe." He waved his hands as his mind painted the picture. "Then I could turn the hosepipe on you and plaster the fabric to your breasts. And into the contours of your pussy. Yes. We need to buy a hosepipe." He was getting carried away.

  Dan leant the picture against the bedroom wall and took Louisa in his arms. She looked up for his kiss and felt the prickle of weekend stubble against her lips. One of his hands moved to her butt and pressed her in against his crotch. He was hard and the firm pressure of his shaft against Louisa's mound made her moan. She wanted to be out of her clothes. Fast. She pulled away from him and stripped off her jumper and t-shirt in one.

  "I thought you had work to do," he said. A teacher, Louisa always had work to do at the weekend.

  "That was before the courier came with the pictures," she said. "Work can wait. I want you."

  His hands took over, unhooking her bra and flinging it aside, yanking open the fastenings on her jeans. She pushed and he pulled until she was naked and Dan was kneeling in front of her, grasping a handful of her discarded clothes. He pulled her into his face, fingers pressed into the flesh of her buttocks, and slithered his tongue into the top of her cleft, teasing the edge of her clit where it lay still folded inside her labia.

  He breathed into her trimmed pubes and murmured, "You need to study our new artwork properly. It's time you were the one on your knees."

  Louisa sank to his level, took one deep kiss of his wide open mouth, and turned to face the framed photograph on her hands and knees on the polished floorboards. "I presume you placed the picture in that precise spot deliberately," she said, positioning her hands either side of the hole he'd drilled in the floor.

  "Well, I was hoping," he said. Inside the hole was a metal tube with a screw thread inside. Dan opened a drawer and took out the steel ring which screwed into it. He crouched beside her and turned it into place. Louisa stared at his fingers winding its stem deep into the floor. One of his hobbies was rock climbing and that made for strong fingers, Louisa had discovered. She stared at the patches of fine, dark hairs between each joint, not wanting to look at the photograph itself in any more detail yet. She wanted to wait until Dan had wound yards and yards of rope around her body. Only then would she look at the picture full on and drink in its beauty.

  Dan reached up into the top of the wardrobe for the battered leather suitcase that held their ropes, neatly coiled. He wrapped four turns of a short length of six-millimetre white woven cotton around her left wrist, tied it off and threaded it through the steel. He tied the other end to her right wrist, four turns again in perfect symmetry. That was the moment Louisa let out an involuntary whimper from the back of her throat. A noise that transcended logical thought.

  "Christ, I love that sound," Dan moaned into her ear as he ran a hand down her spine, making her arch. He pushed his fingers between her legs and she felt them slide over the wetness at her entrance. She lifted her head, the ends of her hair brushing down over the sides of her ribs and pushed her haunches towards his hand. It made her gaze pass over the photograph.

  "Dan," she whispered. "Would you blindfold me please? Until you've finished tying. I don't want to look at the picture again until you've finished."

  "Of course, darling," he said, rummaging for the black silk sash they used as a blindfold and drawing it over her face. He tied it tightly, pressing her eyes shut. Louisa stretched and flexed like a cat as he drew his fingers over her skin, down her back, over her ass and thighs, brushing tantalisingly close to her pussy before getting back to work with his ropes.

  He wound a length around her chest, making several passes tight around the root of each dangling breast and then across her back and shoulders. The improvised bra he created squeezed her ribs and tightened the skin across each bulging breast. Normally, Louisa loved to feel the rope pass between her legs, hugging her pussy and parting her ass cheeks. But today, she wanted Dan inside her.

  "Fuck me," she said. "Now."

  "Not yet. I haven't finished." She let out a little moan of frustration.

  Dan took more rope and wound it around her waist, tying it off at her back after each pass and laying the strands up against each other to create an improvised corset. She felt it hug her with each inhalation. It made her want to be wound round from head to toe, mummified in rope. She'd have to suggest it to Dan. When the corset encased her from her lower rib cage to her hips, he made the final knot and ran his hands over her, on top of the rope. The barrier between his fingers and her flesh was maddening.

  He slipped his fingers between her legs again and she parted her knees further as he ran them from the start of her slit right back to her ass crack. They slipped over her clit, making her body jerk, before sliding on.

  "I want to be inside you when I take the blindfold off," he said and she felt the head of his cock where his fingers had been. He rubbed it into her wetness and pressed against her entrance, taking his time. He always took his time. He was the one who stayed calm and controlled while Louisa was a slave to sensation, her will melting into the ropes.

  He pushed the head of his cock slowly inside her and she felt her muscles close over him before his shaft split her wider again. When he slid it home, the push of his body firm against her pelvis sent sparks through her womb. The ropes pressed into her with every deep breath. He rested inside her and reached up to undo the knot of the blindfold.

  "Ready?"

  "Yes," she whispered. He drew it off and she opened her eyes, centring her gaze on the picture. Her body hung so gracefully from the tree. She'd stood on a rock next to the little pool at the base of the waterfall while Dan wound six long ropes around her, making three passes of the rope at each of the six points along her body from which her weight would hang. He started across her upper chest, passing the rope beneath her arms. The next ones below her breasts, around her waist, low down on her hips where it crossed the top of her mound. Two more on her legs, one above her knees and one at her ankles. The long ends of the rope trailed over the mossy rocks behind her.

  She'd stood waiting while he stretched up to the thick maple branch above her and tied a six-inch wide steel circle into place, dangling from more of the red hemp. He also tied a climbing rope around the trunk of the tree with a metal runner attached to it that Louisa knew was a temporary fixture to allow him to safely lift her into the air.

  Jonas watched Dan's actions and occasionally took some opportunistic shots of the work in progress. He was one of the few friends who knew that Dan's knowledge of knots and ropes went beyond what he needed for his rock climbing. Dan h
ad shown Louisa some of his work before calling him to ask for the special favour. Jonas turned fetish into something that transcended mere sex, playing with the light on latex, the curve of flesh from an unexpected angle, the tiny details of chain links and woven fibres.

  When the steel ring was in place, Dan helped Louisa to kneel and then lie face down across the rocks. The moss softened their edges a little but it was still uncomfortable. Dan took her hands and bound them behind her in a neat box tie. Louisa felt a gentle pull as he took the six ropes around her torso and legs and threaded them through the ring and across to the metal runner.

  The first tug eased the pressure of the sharp rocks off her but did not part her skin from their surface. It was Dan's strength alone that pulled her up but the mechanism of the runner then locked the ropes in place to stop her falling back down. The next pull parted her from the ground and she squirmed as the ropes bit into her. The sensation was unlike anything she'd experienced in bondage before. The feeling of being parted from solid ground made her think of all the images she'd seen of women in suspensions looking weightless and fragile. In fact, the feel of her weight held only in the embrace of six lengths of rope was intense. A few pounds of pressure away from painful.

  When she was at the desired height, Dan took one rope at a time out of the runner, checked that it positioned her body exactly where he wanted it and tied it off around the steel ring. He bent her hips back just slightly and flexed her knees to achieve that graceful curve. His last rope wound around her ponytail and lifted her head to complete the arc.

  Louisa took in every detail of the photograph as Dan rested inside her. She remembered the pressure of the ropes, the ache of her arched lower back, the stretch along her throat when her hair pinned her head back. Her breasts were the only thing that broke the curve, hanging free beneath her. She looked like part of a wheel, the ropes the spokes leading to the hub of the steel ring.