Ultimate Curves

by Miranda Forbes

  ‘It’s OK. I invited him.’ I gave Mark my naughtiest look and after what seemed like for ever, his face broke into a smile. I knew it, I just knew he’d be up for it.

  ‘You dirty little minx. Go on then, I guess you’d better introduce us.’

  I wondered if that’s what swingers parties were like, everyone standing around making small talk, pretending they were there for some entirely innocent reason. Mark managed to strike up a conversation with Stephen about the congestion charge while I poured everyone champagne. The whole thing was somewhat surreal, me in my sexiest underwear and the two of them looking and not looking and sizing each other up while being mercilessly polite. I wanted to fast forward to everyone being drunk.

  However, to my surprise, Stephen came to the rescue. He cleared his throat, as if he were about to make a speech.

  ‘Well, Mark, I’m guessing this isn’t exactly what you had in mind … it’s as much of a surprise to me too, although I knew that Beatrice, well, I knew I wasn’t the only man in her life. But the fact is it’s her birthday, so I’d just like to say that I’m not going to raise any objections to whatever Beatrice has in mind … I suggest we all just relax and go with the flow, so to speak.’

  ‘Fine by me, mate. How about a toast. To the birthday girl.’

  ‘To Beatrice!’

  We clinked glasses and, as if by magic, the awkwardness had gone. Mark stepped forward and kissed me, and we were snogging, and then he broke away and sort of handedme to Stephen, who kissed me, and I could feel him trembling. I took his hand and led him over to the sofa.

  Once we were sitting down, I could feel him relax. His hands found my breasts and slipped inside the fabric of my bra and touched my nipples. He kissed me long and hard. I felt down with my hand – he was hard for me. I looked up. Mark was sitting watching us and looking fairly relaxed. I smiled at him.

  ‘Stephen, I think you should put Beatrice over your knee, for being such a naughty girl and being so greedy,’ Mark said levelly.

  Stephen smiled. ‘Really? What do you think about that idea, Beatrice?’

  I wriggled on to his lap, face down. My heart was beating hard against his thigh. ‘I think Mark’s right. I have been a very naughty girl.’

  Stephen bent forward and whispered in my ear. ‘Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.’

  I turned my face towards him and kissed him on the mouth. ‘You won’t. Just do it.’

  I turned back and looked at Mark, who held my gaze steadily. I held his look, calming myself. Inside I was full of butterflies.

  Stephen pressed one hand firmly between my shoulder blades before bringing the other down hard on my bottom. I shouted out in spite of myself, and he brought his hand down again, harder this time, jolting me so that I bit my lip. I opened my eyes. Mark was looking at me with blazing eyes. Stephen brought his hand down again and again, on my bottom, on my thighs, harder each time, literally knocking the breath out of me as the force of his blows threw me forward against his legs.

  I realised that Stephen was probably showing off in front of Mark; perhaps he thought I got spanked by Mark on a regular basis and that this was therefore some kind of competition. But the truth was I had never been spanked like this and it was a revelation. As I began to ease into the rhythm and the sensations of it, I began to be aware of the burning heat between my legs, the wetness of desire that was making the insides of my thighs all sticky.

  At last, Stephen stopped, apparently exhausted.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he whispered solicitously in my ear.

  ‘Mmmm.’

  ‘Feel how wet you made her,’ I heard Mark say.

  I held my breath: I didn’t know if Stephen would take kindly to the way Mark seemed to be playing it, telling him what to do. But Stephen just laughed and said, ‘Is that right, that made you wet? You are a funny girl, my hand feels like it’s about to drop off. Still, each to their own …’ He trailed his fingers down my thighs and lightly grazed the outer edges of my pussy. I gasped. Stephen laughed again. ‘Well, Mark, you’re right. I have to tell you, I had no idea she liked that kind of thing …’ He slipped his fingers effortlessly inside me and I moaned out loud, incapable of controlling myself. ‘I must say, I’m really not sure what to do with you …’

  ‘Fuck her up the arse.’ Mark’s voice had a distinct edge of excitement to it.

  ‘Really? Do you think she’d like that?’

  ‘I knowshe would.’

  It was true, I had had anal sex with Mark.

  ‘Do I need some …’

  ‘Lube. There’s some in the bathroom, I’ll get it for you.’

  I lay down flat on my belly on the carpet while Stephen put on a condom and lube. Mark lay out on the sofa, a broad grin across his face. He watched as Stephen slowly and gently pushed his cock inside me. It was very tight and the first part was always the worst, but once he was in I relaxed. I heard Stephen’s breathing becoming shallow and excited and more than once he bent forward and bit my shoulder hard as he kissed me. It was good to feel him so excited, good too to feel Mark’s eyes upon us, glassy and shiny with desire, crisscrossing my body, concentrating hard on every little detail of the proceedings.

  ‘I have to say I’m getting more than a little hot over here, do you mind if I make use of her mouth while you’re occupied back there?’

  ‘Be my guest,’ said Stephen.

  And then Mark was getting up and unbuckling his trousers. He lay down on his side in front of me, his big hard cock just in front of my mouth. I smiled at him and opened my mouth. I had everything I could have wished for.

  Where Phone Sex Can Lead

  by Deva Shore

  ‘Brad, hi,’ I said, pleased to hear his voice again.

  ‘Hey, Carmen, how are you?’ he said.

  ‘Great. What sort of story would you like to hear today?’

  ‘None. I just thought you might like to chat again.’

  ‘That’s sweet but these calls are expensive.’

  ‘No problem. I have the money and the time.’

  ‘How about you give me your number and I’ll call you at home?’

  And that’s how it all began. I’d started my own business about six months ago. Guys would ring in, I’d ask them what type of sex story they wished to hear, they’d chose and I’d read it to them. Some companies had recorded audio tapes but I preferred to read them live and my customers like it that way too. Business was booming. I was surprised and pleased at its success.

  Brad was actually my very first customer.Over the six months he was also the most regular. In between readings we’d chat. Cost him a fortune but he never complained, so I finally decided to take it one step further. He seemed like a nice guy.

  I must admit as I dialled his home number I felt just a bit excited. I hadn’t had a boyfriend now for nearly two years and whenever Brad called I’d feel those stirrings, that little tingle you get when you’re keen on someone of the opposite sex.

  Over the next few weeks we got to know each other quite well. I found out he was a successful lawyer and that he hadn’t had a girlfriend for quite some time as he was always busy at work. I think he’d been burnt and wasn’t eager to get into another relationship too quickly.

  There were some days where we’d chat for hours. He was so easy to talk to. I told one of my girlfriends and she said I was crazy. Not good for business. While I was talking to him I allowed other clients the opportunity to meet other operators. I was losing money she said, and for what? She said he was probably getting his rocks off now for nothing, free of charge.

  I was offended and hurt by her comments.

  ‘Nothing will ever come of it,’ she said. ‘You’re wasting your time.’

  ‘But he sounds so sweet and sincere,’ I said.

  ‘He’s probably old, bald and a pervert. Stop calling him.’

  In the end I stopped calling her.

  Brad and I advanced to a new level fairly quickly. He asked me intimate questions and I didn’
t even hesitate to answer. Neither did he. Pretty soon there wasn’t much we didn’t know about one another.

  When he asked me what I looked like, I hesitated. I didn’t want to turn him off so I lied. Said I was five feet nine inches tall, blonde with perky breasts and a slim figure. Said I looked fabulous in a micro-mini and sometimes did a bit of modelling on the side.

  I knew he was impressed.

  He sounded absolutely gorgeous. Said he was dark with short hair, blue eyes, a dimple in each cheek and just over six feet tall. He worked out at the gym four nights a week and was a conservative dresser.

  He was a lawyer with a big firm in the city. Said that was why he could afford all the phone charges. He had a great personality and I found myself totally relaxed and open with him but when he suggested that we meet I panicked.

  ‘No! I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ I blurted out.

  ‘Why not? I’m dying to see you face to face,’ he said.

  I gulped. I wanted to meet him too but I’d lied so dramatically about my looks that I just wasn’t game. I was five foot nine and blond but that was all that was true. Instead of perky breasts I had huge melons which were so big that if I wasn’t wearing a bra they’d hang down to my waist. I’d never worn a mini skirt in my life … they didn’t make them that big and I wouldn’t have worn them even if they did. I was large all over.

  I was happy though. I didn’t care about my size and was comfortable with myself but I always got those stares and comments from other women, as though being me was unacceptable. Over the years I got used to them, heard them all, but now that Brad wanted to meet me, well, I didn’t want to disappoint him.

  ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I haven’t been quite honest with you.’

  ‘What? You’re not married are you?’

  ‘No.’

  Boyfriend?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Lover?’

  ‘No,’ I said sighing.

  ‘Well, what then?’

  ‘I’m not as good-looking as I led you to believe,’ I said quietly.

  ‘I don’t care about your looks. We get on famously. I’m not one of those shallow types. Believe me I won’t judge you by your appearance.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Look Carmen. You’re being ridiculous. After all this time I thought you’d be able to trust me enough to believe that?’

  ‘I do, but I just don’t want to disappoint you.’ I said softly.

  ‘You won’t. Trust me, I’m a lawyer, remember. Er, strike that last sentence,’ he laughed.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Just give me your address and I’ll take you out tomorrow night and give you a night you’ll never forget.’

  So I did. I gave him my address and for the first time my phone number too. He said he’d call me with the details tomorrow. When I hung up I noticed my hands were shaking. I really liked Brad. I liked him a lot. I decided to ring another friend, Mary, and confide in her.

  ‘Are you nuts?’ she screamed down the phone line. ‘You’re not going are you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am.’

  ‘Did you tell him about your weight problem?’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with my weight. It’s the rest of you that do,’ I said, slamming the receiver down on the cradle.

  I was fuming. Who the fuck did she think she was.

  The next morning Brad called.

  ‘I’ve got a limo booked and I’ll pick you up for dinner at the Ritz at seven thirty.’

  My God, I thought. The Ritz. He must be loaded.

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘And so you should be,’ he laughed.

  ‘I’ll see you then,’ I said, hoping I was doing the right thing.

  ‘I can hardly wait,’ he replied.

  I was nervous. I took more care with my personal appearance than I’ve ever done. Pampering myself with a pedicure, manicure and facial. After showering I moisturized my whole body, dabbed myself with perfume and dusted my skin with a lightly scented talc.

  I chose red underwear, a silky black pants suit with a sexy see-through camisole.

  As I was dressing I had a critical look at myself. I thought I had a fantastic body and wouldn’t change it for the world. I loved my tits with their darkened areolas that surrounded and drew attention to my gorgeous nipples. I loved to caress my own breasts, loved the weight of them, they way they swayed when I walked, loved the way guys would bury themselves in them. It always turned me on, made me feel very sexy.

  I had great hips and a nice rounded stomach. I always thought I would have loved to have been a model for a sculptor or a painter, someone artistic who would appreciate my beauty. My thighs were curvaceous and when I put my hand there the heat emitting from them was amazing.

  I had a little Mohawk of pubic hair and the rest of me was hair free, waxed to perfection. All guys loved that.

  I turned to look in the mirror.

  ‘Great arse,’ I giggled.

  Guys loved to grab handfuls of my flesh, love to squeeze and jiggle it. They also love to bury their faces between my thighs. Just thinking about it had me wet with desire.

  Glancing over at the clock I saw that I had one hour to go. I inched on my underwear, slipped into my outfit and pulled up my hair, pilling it high on my head but leaving soft wispy stands to frame my face. I used only a small amount of make-up and a thick smear of red lipstick, the exact shade of my underwear, on my pouting lips. As I lay down my brush the doorbell pealed throughout my home.

  Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Taking a deep breath I wrenched open the front door. Brad was everything he said he’d be. Tall, dark and handsome, oh so handsome. He had a big bouquet of red roses cradled in his arms and even though he had a smile on his mouth it didn’t reach to his eyes.

  He was disappointed. I knew it.

  ‘Hi,’ I said shyly.

  ‘Great to finally meet you,’ he said, thrusting the flowers into my arms.

  He followed me in while I put them in a vase. I wanted to hide the tears that were smarting my eyes and threatening to spill down my cheeks.

  Composing myself I turned to him, ‘Ready?’

  He took my hand and I gasped when I saw he really had arrived in a limo. He helped me in and we sat in silence while he opened a chilled bottle of champagne. We both drank quickly and by the time we arrived at the restaurant we were feeling more relaxed, well I knew I was, that was for sure.

  Sitting down in the chair that Brad had pulled out for me, I saw some of the other diners staring at us. Brad did too. I noticed the look of confusion on his face.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’m used to it.’

  ‘To what?’

  ‘People staring at me because of my weight,’ I whispered.

  ‘You’re kidding. I thought they were looking at me, at how handsome I am,’ he joked.

  ‘Yes, well that too,’ I laughed.

  ‘Let’s drink to a great friendship and a wonderful dinner,’ he said, raising his glass.

  I sipped slowly wishing he’d toasted to a night of wild and unadulterated sex.

  The evening went brilliantly. The fact that the other diners kept staring seemed to be to my advantage. Brad became very flirtatious. As though making an effort to silence their stares. Me, I loved it. We ended up having a fantastic night. We got on famously and on the way home I asked him in for coffee.

  ‘That would be great,’ he said.

  Filling the kettle up with water, Brad moved in behind me. He kissed the back of my neck. I was so surprised I nearly dropped the kettle.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ I said, feeling as though he was only going through the motions.

  ‘I know,’ he said, taking the kettle to place it on the sink so he could grab me and turn me around into his arms.

  He lifted my chin, lowering his head to kiss me. I looked deeply into his eyes, saw them crinkle mischievously and then he was all over me. His tongue deep
into my mouth and his hands roaming all over my body.

  I pushed my pelvis into him, pleased to feel he had half an erection and even more pleased when I heard a low murmuring deep in his throat. His hands grabbed at my arse, then up my back, before one slipped up my camisole and over my breast.

  ‘Oh God,’ he whispered, his mouth on my neck and working its way down. ‘Where’s the bedroom?’

  I dragged him back with me, stumbling as we began to tear each other’s clothes off. We fell onto the bed, both shirts gone and he landed between my open thighs staring down at me. He pulled the camisole off and his eyes devoured my breasts. He lunged for them, like most men do, burying his face into the cleavage. His hands slipped beneath me, his fingers unhooking my bra. He peeled it down my arms and threw it on to the floor.

  ‘They’re magnificent,’ he said, smiling. ‘Absolutely magnificent.’

  He crushed each of them, pushing them together, nibbling at my erect nipples before sucking one gently into his mouth. I held his head with both hands, barely able to believe this was happening.

  He stood, dropped his trousers and his jocks together. He kicked off his shoes, staggering as he pulled off his socks. I giggled when he flung off his trousers and stood naked before me. He had the most enormous cock I’ve ever seen. Not only was it long but it was thick. Real thick. The knob was bobbing up and down, precome already oozing from the slit.

  He smiled at me when I finally managed to tear my eyes away from it and then he was tugging my pants and panties down together over my shoes. I lay there naked before him wearing only my stilettos, quivering in anticipation.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, ‘just beautiful.’

  I blushed, pleased and feeling as horny as hell. It had been a long time.

  ‘Open your legs,’ he commanded.

  I did.

  ‘I can see your pussy lips glistening with your juices,’ he whispered, as he lowered his head towards me.

  ‘My shoes,’ I muttered.

  ‘Leave them,’ he insisted. ‘They heighten my desire.’

  ‘Oh,’ I whimpered, unable to hide my own lustful feelings.

  Lying between my open thighs he opened up my outer lips. ‘You smell beautiful too,’ he said, diving down to lick at them.