Curvy Voluptuous Pt. 02

by The Preve

The trees were beautiful; a multi-colored curtain of copper, orange, gold, and sepia. Joaquin was too nervous to enjoy it.

"Stop worrying, Joaquin," Lily said, "It'll be fine. My family are good people."

"I know, Lily. It's just... it feels like I'm auditioning for a role."

"Mom and Auntie L like you. You spoke to them on Skype. You impressed them. They told me."

Joaquin smiled. Lily always could make him feel good about everything. That's why I'm marrying her.

The amorous couple's friends and colleagues weren't surprised when they announced their engagement. People saw how good they were together, and most thought they made a beautiful couple.

Joaquin's parents emigrated from Brazil in the 70s and settled in San Francisco. His father made a killing in real estate. His mother opened and ran a successful floral business. The da Costa family was pretty well off.

Joaquin grew up with a slender athletic body built for soccer (futbol, as his father insisted quite vehemently), and excelled at the sport. Agents came calling but education came first for Joaquin. His sights were set on a masters in business.

He met Lily O'Connor in college; a smart, pretty, third generation Irish-American with deep red hair, emerald green eyes, and freckles dotting every inch of her pale body.

She meshed nicely with Joaquin and his light cream coffee-colored skin, short curly sun-gilded light brown hair, and hazel eyes. A near perfect couple, people thought. The question was if Agnes O'Connor and Laurie Taggart (nee O'Connor) agreed.

The car turned off the road and rolled down a country lane, ringed by apple trees. Joaquin knew the O'Connors had owned this area for almost a century.

Seamus O'Connor, Lily's great-grandfather came to America, fleeing the Irish Civil War. He bought a small farm with his last cent, and managed to hold onto it through the Depression (a surreptitiously acquired small fortune, through manufacturing hard cider during Prohibition, helped a little).

The O'Connor apple farm grew and prospered in the Post War. It ran into some trouble the previous decade, due to a chemical spill, but a generous government payout solved most of it.

Now the farm, according to Lily, along with the others in the area, was flourishing better than ever, producing the best harvests in over a century.

Joaquin was happy for Lily and her family. Money was coming in end over end, and the future looked great.

Lily gave Joaquin a reassuring smile as they pulled into the driveway.

"Don't worry." She gave him a peck on the cheek.

The O'Connor house was old, but new repairs and construction restored and modernized it. Agnes and her sister Laurie stepped out to welcome.

The sisters were identical twins, a trait inherited from Lily's Scottish grandmother's family. Her great aunt was a twin.

The sisters' personalities were opposite to each other; Agnes, demure and traditional, Laurie, open and unconventional. Their differing hairstyles and demeanor made it fairly easy to tell them apart.

The sisters' conflicting personalities drove the two apart, but Liam O'Connor's fatal heart attack brought Laurie back to help out.

Joaquin and Lily left the car, shocked looks on their faces.

"Uh, Mom? What happened?"

"What do you mean, dear?" Agnes smiled, hints of mischief on her face. Laurie's smile matched her sister's.

The reason for Lily and Joaquin's confusion had to do with her mother and aunt's bodies. They were far different from when last they saw them.

Attractiveness defined the O'Connor women, complimented by their slim, willowy bodies. Joaquin could certainly attest to Lily's physical characteristics.

Agnes and Laurie had changed from the couple's last visit. The Skype talk, which the sisters did close up, gave no indication of difference. The sight before them stunned.

No longer slim and willowy, they. Agnes and Laurie displayed scarlet-headed Jayne Mansfield curves. Both wore jeans, albeit for shirts, Laurie wore red flannel, while Agnes wore a white tee. The bodies those clothes hugged were almost shockingly voluptuous. Joaquin's pants acquired a noticeable tightness.

They're not wearing bras.

Lily noticed too; not shocking in Aunt Laurie's case but her mother was always more modest.

"Oh come on, Agnes," Laurie chuckled, "We've teased them long enough. Well, come on you two. You can sleep in your old room."

The sisters helped the couple with their bags.

"It's a new diet, honey," Agnes explained. "The new apple crops around here have remarkable effects. The whole area is booming. Especially the Brooke orchards. You remember the Brookes?"

"Yes, of course," Lily remembered Jake from childhood; nice, friendly, very religious, devoted to his wife Edith. Good, solid, people of the earth.

"Well, they came out with this new apple hybrid, Red Voluptuous. It's just delicious, and people who eat them, ladies mostly, just seem to fill out, in good ways."

"I've never heard of apples doing that before," Lily said.

"I know, it's odd, but something about them works. It's even helped the local honey industry. The bees love the blossoms. Honey production's booming around here."

Lily and Joaquin were happy for the area but uneasy. Apples that transformed slender women into curvy bombshells seemed... weird.

"Can I take a look at these apples, after we're settled?"

"Of course, dear. We even made some apple fritters to welcome you."

"Thanks Mom," Lily smiled. She loved her mother's fritters. Joaquin smiled too. Lily sometimes made fritters from her mother's recipe.

This might not be a bad trip after all.

****

The young man woke, confused. He slowly came to full wakefulness, with a strong impression of laying on a soft, warm, damp cushion.

His head seemed placed between two huge pillows. Soft snores meant others were present.

He raised his body slowly, not from caution but stiffness. He ached everywhere, but much of it centered on his thighs and groin.

The young man blinked his eyes, blearily, and looked about. The questions, Where am I? What happened? How did I get here, vanished in quick realization.

The pillows on which his head rested were giant breasts. The warm, damp bed, a body.

"Oh fuck," he whispered, remembering the night before.

A night where giant women used every part of his body. In which one after another, end on end, huge pussies, and large, plush mouths devoured his cock. Where thick tongues slammed, stiflingly, down his throat.

His face was buried in giant melons, or wide vulvae. Plump fingers and fists rammed into his ass, and plunged deep. They even used his arms as dildos, forced deep into cum-slick tunnels.

Huge fleshy bodies smothered him. Giant hands and fingers squeezed, massaged, pumped, and milked cum and orgasms from his body.

The women bent him into shapes near bone-breaking, with only his natural flexibility preventing his body from snapping.

They made sure to keep his cock and balls pumped hard, always in a mouth or pussy, or in a giant stroking fist.

The women smothered his gasps with kisses. They gagged his pleas with tits. Their hot flesh and wet pussies soaked his tears.

Always, there were orgasms; overlapping, endless, and intense.

The women never stopped, keeping him tuned and wired past exhaustion, waking him when he passed out. They cared not for his lack of oxygen or fatigue. They pressed their heavy, warm bodies to his, caressing, stroking, fucking.

The experience, for a geek like Barry, should have been the ultimate erotic dream fulfilled. A bacchanal beyond anything his popular, Lothario, jock counterparts from his high school years could not even begin to imagine.

It was a nightmare; a nightmare of lust, desire, and sex forced down one's throat in massive, smothering quantities. People love chocolate; no one wants to drown in it.

Barry came close. The women's own fatigue saved him. The young intern knew not when the fucking stopped. He simply woke on a bed of flesh, with breasts for pillows.

"I feel... sticky," he moaned. The room was fetid with the thick smell of sweat and cum.

"I... have to get away." Barry knew if he stayed, these monster women would fuck him to death, but he could barely move. A layer of cum and sweat adhered his body to the woman beneath.

Giant women slept all around. He was in a den of lionesses, ready to be eaten.

"Careful... must be... careful."

Rising was difficult, like a sticker peeling from paper. His joints were akin to rusty hinges. He managed to creep off of the woman's body, pausing in terror when she stirred.

He couldn't stand, so he crawled, and wiggled around the women's bodies. His aim was not the door through which he entered, but the back door he'd darted for earlier.

"Please, please, please let it be unlocked," he begged, silently. He didn't know how he would make it to the motel, nor what he would say to Miss. Saringo.

I don't have clothes. What if some cop arrests me for indecent exposure.

Telling a cop or Ms. Saringo, a group of giant women trapped and gang banged him seemed such a fantastic tale, he barely believed it himself. Also, another question presented itself.

Something this crazy in a town like this? How do I know the cops aren't in on it?

Unfortunately for the young intern, any future stories and scoops were halted by the hand that wrapped around his ankle.

"Oh fuck!"

An eight foot tall, F-cupped Jayne Mansfield had him.

"And just where do you think you're going, bug?"

"No! Please!" he sobbed as she dragged his body, back into the forest of giant hands, mouths, breasts, and pussies to start the orgy all over again.

****

Olivia waited in the lobby, growing more pissed each passing second. Barry was late. It was 7:15. She decided to wait until seven twenty before checking on him.

Why the fuck did I get stuck with that moron?

A harsh lesson in punctuality was in order.

Seven thirty came and no sign of Barry. Olivia wasn't worried.

He overslept, the idiot.

She went to the front desk.

"Hey! Hellooo, I need you to make a call."

The woman on duty, Another fucking Penthouse model, smiled.

"Of course, Ma'am. May I ask the room?"

"320."

The phone rang for several minutes with no answer.

"He could still be in the shower," the desk officer suggested.

"Or he slept through the alarm. Nah, the phone would've woke him. You have a key?"

"I'll send the maid."

Five minutes later, Olivia was outside Barry's room, with the maid.

"Barry? Barry, open the door or you're fired."

Olivia looked at the maid, an unspoken command on her annoyed face. The maid inserted the key, the door unlocked, and the women stepped into an empty motel room.

"Well, this is annoying," Olivia fumed.

The maid left quietly. She didn't want to do her duty with this unpleasant woman around.

The shower was dry, unused. The bed sheets were rumpled slightly, but not slept in.

He sat on it but didn't sleep.

His jeans and white sneakers were on the floor. She searched his duffle bag.

His hoodie's gone. He's wearing his "ninja" outfit. Which meant he was snooping somewhere. Will that be a problem?

Annoying as her young intern could be, Olivia wasn't one to keep him on a leash. He needed to hone his investigative skills after all.

But if he gets into trouble, I'm going to have to bail him out. Annoying. Plus it could make my work difficult, such as it is. The idiot.

She contemplated firing him when he came back.

Or not, if he finds something interesting.

So, the order for the day was to find Barry.

So where would he be? The school looks good.

The drive to the school was uneventful. The activity nil. Olivia looked around.

"Pretty quiet," but not ominously so.

The door was locked. She looked up to see the cameras.

"Old school stuff," she thought, "Suspicious."

The school itself looked modern, only a few years old. She saw the sign.

Not a school. Dang! I should have noticed. Am I losing my touch?

A recreational center made more sense, but the building still seemed large and expensive for a small town.

Plus the cheap cameras. They spend the money on a new building, yet install security cameras out of date twenty years ago?

Olivia heard a car. She turned to see a small sedan cruise into the parking lot. The man who got out looked at Olivia, suspicious curiosity written on his face.

"Uh, may I help you?"

"Yes," Olivia strode forward, "My name is Olivia Saringo. I was hoping to find someone here. I'm a reporter covering the apple festival, and my assistant seems to have disappeared for the moment. He expressed some interest in the building. I came to see if he stopped by."

The man smiled. Olivia took an instant dislike to him. He was nice looking enough, late thirties or early forties, she estimated. His eyes were light blue, his hair, medium brown. He exuded a sleazy car salesman smell. She knew the type immediately.

He's a politician or connected to one.

He held out his hand. "Thom Barkley," he grinned. "I'm secretary to Mayor Harbor."

Olivia took his hand, flashing the disarming smile she used to put interviewees off their guard.

"Pleased to meet you." Cold and clammy hands, ugh!

"Same here. I don't think I can help you here. The recreation center's closed for the festival until Saturday. I'm just here for maintenance, and to get the place ready for the apple pie contest. It caps the festival."

"Oh! Well, since I'm here to cover the festival, would you mind if I accompany you? Maybe I can take a look inside, so I can advise the camera crew, when they arrive to cover the contest?"

Thom hesitated. The girls are underground. No trace of the kid. I say no, she'll get suspicious. "Of course Miss. Saringo. I'm happy to show off the center. It's our newest building."

Inside, Olivia gazed about, unimpressed. She affected a neutral look while Thom talked.

"Most of the community gathers here for pool and bingo. Everything else takes place in the gym."

On the way down the hall, Olivia remarked, "Your security system seems a little dated for a new building."

"Budget issues I'm afraid. Most of the money went into the center. After that, we pinched pennies. We got a used security system from a Portland high school. It was cheap. The Mayor figured since we had a low crime rate, we could make do 'til the budget would let us buy something better."

"Do you have recordings from last night? Maybe my assistant stopped by?"

"Can't help you there too, I'm afraid. The cameras are crap, and the recorder eats the tape. The security, which includes me, are just here to watch and call the police in case someone breaks in."

The gym was spacious and unremarkable.

"What's beyond the door at the end?"

"The community pool. Would you like to take a look?"

The pool was large, Olympic sized, with a faint chlorine smell. Nothing to distinguish it, and the building in general, from a typical small town community center, other than its size. Olivia would dismiss the place but... My spider sense is tingling.

Thom Barkley was too friendly, too watchful, and too close. He was calm, outwardly, but she saw the sweat, and subtle shifts in his eyes. She knew when someone was lying, and keeping a secret.

Nothing I can do at the moment.

Olivia was alone, in a small town, with a missing intern. The best tactic was to retreat, regroup, and plan an attack.

Barry is in trouble. This man likely has something to do with it. Cheap security my ass. This building has something better. The question is if this man's alone? "Well, it's been good to talk to you Mr. Barkley."

"Call me Thom," he grinned.

"Well, Thom. I'll make sure to tell my crew where to put the camera. Is there anyway to meet the Mayor so we can coordinate? I don't want to be a disturbance."

"No trouble at all. She's busy today but free at ten tomorrow. I'll schedule you there."

"Thanks." They shook hands.

Thom watched her drive away. She's going to be trouble. I better call the Mayor.

Olivia drove back to the La Quinta.

Where the fuck are you, Barry, and what kind of trouble are you in?

She wasn't about to spend the whole day fretting.

I'll take the continental breakfast first, then I'm off to take a look around. There's something off about this town, and Barry stumbled into it.

****

Barry moaned, grunted, and came. He was tired, so very tired, but they wouldn't stop. They just kept fucking him and fucking him.

He was buried in flesh. His head smothered in a cocoon of four gigantic breasts; his nude, sweat and cum-covered body sandwiched and ground between two giants.

His legs were entangled with their thick, long, and firm legs. His hands flailed, weakly, against soft but resilient skin.

Warm, wet walls caressed, squeezed, and drew seed from his deeply embedded cock.

Barry long ceased to beg for mercy. The women were too strong, too many, and too cruel. He lay, helpless, as they did things to his body, unimaginable in his craziest wet dreams.

The women switched out constantly, giving him a few seconds rest, before starting again. If boobs weren't grinding his head, it was a pussy. If a clit wasn't in his mouth, it was a nipple.

They fucked him to exhaustion and beyond. Sex infused all their actions upon him.

They carried him to one of the large toilets, in this strange underground bathroom prison, and stroked him while he urinated. If it was number two, they forced him to lick pussies while he sat on the toilet.

The women washed him in the shower, or the giant tub, treating him almost like a baby. They slathered soap, shampoo, and body wash on his body.

They force fed him, of all things, slices of apples, with large amounts of cider.

Barry wondered why apples? Not quite exclusively apples, other foods were included, but overwhelmingly apples.

The questions were vague, from what was left of his curiosity. Most conscious thoughts were drowned, as his body, in hot, sweaty flesh, and fucks.

Women's faces, when his vision wasn't obscured by a tit, or pussy, or bunghole, mocked him, with a cruel lust, and hunger satiated by his seed.

The young man's eyes started to close, either from exhaustion or merciful unconsciousness, before another orgasm brought him awake. He whimpered as another pussy descended towards his face.

****

Joaquin stretched and yawned. He lay gazing at the sleeping body of Lily. The morning was quiet. Dawn peaked through the window.

His thoughts dwelt upon the previous night. Dinner, roast beef and potatoes, with apple cider for drink, was delicious. The apple fritters for dessert, were sublime.

Agnes and Laurie set a bowl of apples on the table after dinner.

"Here they are," Laurie smiled, "Just look at them. The best in the country."

"They look perfect," Joaquin admitted.

Lily took one. "Large, deep red, shiny with no wax, and firm." She bit into it. "Wow! Crisp and sweet! How did Brooke come up with this?!"

"We don't know," Agnes said, "But it's so delicious. You can't stop with just one."

"I'll say. Joaquin, you have to try this."

Joaquin thought the apple juice and fritters were enough, but tried one for Lily's sake.

Crunch! "Wow! You're right Lily, these are good."

The couple ate two, joined by Agnes and Laurie.

"We should stop at two folks," said Agnes, "We shouldn't have too much in one sitting."