Natural Curves

Natural Curves1

Prologue – Mary Jane1

Chapter One – In The Beginning4

Chapter Two – Natural Curves9

Chapter Three – The Princess & The Motel14

Chapter Four22

------------------------------

Natural Curves

------------------------------

Okay, here’s a note to the reader. This tale really starts at Chapter One but I figured that this prologue is a bit of a taster, an hors douvre if you will. I hope you enjoy this story, I have no idea how many chapters it will finally run to but I do know that there will be a LOT more sex action in subsequent installments. There’s no actual group sex in this section but there most certainly will be in the next!

Please let me know what you think, love it or hate it.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Then we’ll begin….

Prologue – Mary Jane

Her dark, some might say cold, brown eyes were incongruously full of warmth and affection for me. Impishness danced in there too. There was a permanent grin on her beautiful face, cheeky, elfin, mischievous. Given time I could love this woman.

“Are you glad you came?” She asked.

“I haven’t cum yet.” I answered.

“I have.” She said gently touching her full lips against mine, her tongue slithered into my mouth, it was soft, wet and warm. “In fact I’ve cum four times.” she continued. “Princess was right, you DO have magic hands and a wicked tongue.”

Once again, my cock grew hard, it had been hard for about 24 hours or so it seemed. In the two hours that had passed since I first arrived at MJ’s London flat we had talked, laughed, smoked a few spliffs and generally done as much touching as two thirty something adults could do without removing all of their clothes. In fact the only discarded garment was MJ’s scarlet red thong. It lay off to our left where I had dropped it moments before burying my face in her pussy. It wasn’t that we were fumbling lovers, teenagers exploring another's body for the first time, instead we seemed to have an unspoken agreement that as we had the whole night and the following day we would make the liaison last. Each sensation would be drawn out so that the maximum pleasure might be taken from it.

Placing my left hand behind her head, caressing her neck I kissed her again, softly at first and then with more passion. Our tongues duelled. She broke the kiss and pressed a perfectly manicured finger nail against my lips. I could still smell the faint odour of her nail varnish over her subtle but alluring Organza perfume. “Lets have another joint.”

I nodded as Mary Jane rose from the couch and moved to the coffee table, kneeling beside it she began the process of skinning up a spliff using her tobacco and finest Thai weed. Not only was the woman physically stunning with covergirl looks but she was sweet and kind with a heart the size of a lioness; oh and she rolled the best joints I have ever smoked.

I sat there on the soft couch and looked at her. She was five feet five inches tall, red haired and brown eyed. Mary Jane was a BBW but she was not a real ‘plumper’ like Dawn French or Vanessa Feltz before she lost her weight. If one is required I guess Reubenesque might be a better label for Mary Jane.

Her thighs were thick and shapely and they flowed into her gorgeous round ass which was soft and curvaceous but not flabby in any way. On her feet she was wearing high heeled sandals that lifted her ankles and made her look statuesque. In fact

everything

about her was soft and curvy. Her breasts were big, soft and full, completely natural with large thick nipples; she loved them to be softly chewed with lips and teeth. One of her orgasms had been reached by me simply holding her heavy E cup tits and switching between one nipple and the other.

I could see this magnificent body through the almost gossamer black dress she wore over a red bustier and the of course the now discarded thong. Her beautiful legs were encased in super sheer and expensive black silk hold up stockings. The black dress buttoned up the front, the first four or five were undone, MJ’s tits were out of the bustier but still mostly in the dress.

I wondered if she was comfortable. I guessed that if she was not she would do something about it.

Kneeling down as she rolled the joint MJ glanced up at me and smiled. “Enjoying the view?”

“Very much.” I replied. “Shall I get us a refill?” I held up our tumbler glasses.

“Why not..” Said MJ. “...your Vodka Martini’s and this Thai grass go together like hard cock and wet pussy.” She giggled softly and again flashed me that smile, God this woman was something else.

I entered the kitchen and began to mix the drinks in a large pitcher. The Vodka had been properly chilled in the freezer until it was fairly thick and almost viscous. The Martini came straight from the fridge. After adding just the right measure of clear lemonade and stirring with a whisk I tipped some crushed ice into the glasses. I slowly poured the Vodkatini mix over the ice allowing the crystals to rise up to the top of the glasses.

As I turned to leave the kitchen I noticed a 2003 calendar on the wall above the worktop. Each month had a different breed of cat. I was looking at an impossibly haughty black and white tomcat. Beneath the picture were the thirty one days of January. In the box for the twelfth was my name, Jason written in the flowing hand of a confident woman.

I smiled as I remembered how this utterly crazy adventure had started. It was only a matter of weeks but it seemed so long ago now.

Chapter One – In The Beginning

My name is Jason Pearl. This is my story.

In the summer of 2000 I bought a National Lottery ticket. I chose the same six numbers I have always used since the first time I played in 1998.

My numbers came up.

I won eight million pounds. Foreign readers can check their exchange rates and do the maths but in any currency it was a lot of money. It was, in fact, what Bon Jovi once referred to as a ‘ Kings ransom in dimes’.

To put it bluntly, for a single man of thirty five who had never really had any spare cash it was like, well it was like winning the lottery really.

I was absolutely over the fucking moon.

On the day the cheque cleared I quit my job as a computer

salesman. I won’t bore you with the details but over the next eight months I did a lot of travelling, bought a nice house in Cornwall and treated myself to a top of the range Mercedes. When I returned home to Cornwall I began to surf the Net and buy myself some of the gadgets I’d always wanted. I ordered a DVD player and then a stack of movies. I joined a couple of adult websites, bought some DVD porno.

You might think that I could find all the porn I wanted but I’m not interested in stick insect models with fake tits. I like real women, and yes I absolutely adore larger ladies. Not these frighteningly obese ones that you might see in tabloid magazines like Bizarre but beautiful women who just happen to be bigger than average. Now I’m not sure about dress sizes in other countries but in the UK they work like this.

Kylie Monogue would be an 8 or a 10.

Her sister Danni would be a 10 or a 12 because she has tits.

J’Lo would be a 12 to 14.

The sizes then go from 14-16, 16-18 and so on. I think bra sizes are pretty much universal working on the basis that Pamela Anderson [yuk no thank you] would be DD cup.

I hope that helps paint a picture.

So, where was I? Oh yeah. I was looking for porn. Eventually I found what I was looking for and like I said I joined a couple of sites and bought some movies. Everything arrived within a week and I spent the next few weeks getting my new house just how I wanted it. I installed the TV’s and hi-fi units, set up my new PC. I even built a small workshop as I’ve always liked fiddling with electronics and machinery.

I had a few friends that came to stay. I had already given financial gifts to my family and a couple of people I had known most of my life.

I was happy. Alone but happy. One thing was missing in my life, I wanted a companion. There were plenty of women who would have been happy to go out with me but they all knew I was fairly wealthy. I’m a decent looking guy and in good shape; I didn’t want to be wanted for my money, I wanted to be wanted for who I was.

So I went back to the Net and found some dating sites, I joined them and supplied a photo of myself. To be safe I always called myself an IT Consultant and set my annual income at about 50k. I had lots of replies but none that really floated my boat.

Then I got lucky for a second time and to be honest I’d have given up the money for it if necessary.

I remember the date. It was a fortnight after 9/11. Incidentally I was in my living room watching Sky News when I saw that first plane fly into the WTC; where were you?

So two weeks after that awful day I was unpacking my grocery shopping, it was early evening and I had the news on in the living room. The date was September 25th, 2001. My phone rang. The voice on the other end belonged to a guy called Mickey Vantor.

Mickey was a retired Australian dope smuggler who had given up the life and retired to Cornwall. He was in his fifties and was one of the nicest people I had ever met, he still lives less than a mile from me and we’re great mates. Even though he was no longer a smuggler, he could still obtain small amounts of good quality gear and always shared what he had with me.

I should point out at this juncture that I’ve never taken hard drugs, I don’t condone their use but nor do I vilify those who use them. Dealers in hard drugs are vile people but men like Mickey only dealt in what he called the ‘Mother’ business. He smuggled cannabis, marijuana or whatever you want to call it. There is a difference readers, a man who deals in hash or grass is not like a Columbian coke lord.

I like to smoke a joint but I don’t drink a lot. I’ve never known anyone to get stoned on hash then go out and beat the crap out of someone. If you want to see that take a look in the main street of your town on a Saturday night. It’s a weird world where booze is legal and grass isn’t.

So on that night Mickey rang me and said he had a bag on the best Skunk around. I went straight round and picked it up. We had a couple of joints and a good chat. I left the car there and walked back home. It was about 10.30pm and I had a good buzz on.

Normally when I’m stoned I’ll watch a little porn, browse Literotica and read some stories and then when I finally jack off I always cum so fucking hard! Until that night this is what I’d always done when I didn’t have a girlfriend. It was what I intended to do when I got home. If you’ve never got stoned and jacked off or had sex then you’re missing out. Everything is amplified, there’s nothing like it.

Looking back, I know that if Mickey hadn’t phoned then none of the following would have happened.

I got back home, made a pot of tea and put on David Gray’s White Ladder CD while I rolled a few joints.

As I finished my first joint the David Gray CD ended so I put some of my favourite discs into the CD changer and let it play tracks at random.

I’m not sure why but I found myself sitting at the computer and surfing the Net. On a whim I did a search for UK+Dating+BBW. A bunch of UK dating sites came up and at the bottom I found an obscure link to a site called Natural Curves UK. At first I thought I had found another porno site, I was about to bookmark it when the main page completed loading.

In my semi stoned dream state and most certainly against the run of play, I hit the motherlode. I had found a site run privately and not for profit by two former swingers called Matt and Jenny.

Natural Curves was a dating site for big women and the men who love them. It was like a swingers site but it was very exclusive. Relationships were the main reason members joined but safe recreational sex was also encouraged as were frequent ‘Bar Meets’ at swinging clubs throughout the UK.

I paid the monthly membership and filled in the detailed application form online and attached a picture of myself. Seconds after I sent the page, a message flashed up on my screen.

Your application is being processed.

If your application is successful you will receive

Your username and password by email in the next 24 hours.

Your joining fee will be refunded if you are deemed unsuitable.

Thank you.

I was very stoned by this point. I didn’t realise that the site would be doing a background check on me. Thankfully, I’d answered all the questions honestly. I shut down the PC and flopped down on the couch.

Seconds later my phone rang. I picked it up.

“Hello.”

“Jason Pearl?” Said the male voice.

“Yes.”

“I’m John from Natural Curves. I’m just calling to confirm that you’ve just applied to join our site. Can you confirm this?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you Mr Pearl. Please check your email after noon tomorrow.”

I remember thinking that it was a bit surreal at the time but being stoned I sort of forgot about it. I relaxed on the couch, put on a Buttman big tit special [John Stagliano likes all natural girls too] and I masturbated for an hour or so. When I came it was fantastic, my orgasm was of almost biblical proportions.

That night I slept like a baby.

Chapter Two – Natural Curves

The next day I woke about 11am and went out to get a paper and some cigarettes.

When I got back I powered up my PC [I’d forgotten about Natural Curves]. I checked my mail.

I received this…

Dear Mr Pearl.

You have been accepted as a member of Natural Curves UK. Your picture has been posted on the site. Please add a profile of yourself. No details as to income or financial status should be posted. You are now free to contact as many ladies as you wish from the 160 UK members of the site. Additonally, should a female member like your profile they may contact you.

Your username and password are ~~~~~~~ and ~~~~~~~~ . Logging on to the site is an acceptance of terms and conditions.

Faithfully,

Matt & Jenny.

I logged on straight away. And within half an hour I had a pretty good 200 word profile of myself written so I added it to my picture.

Under my photo was…

Name: Jason Pearl

Age: 35

Status: Single and unattached

Area: South West UK

Travel: Anywhere

Looking For: Physical Relationship perhaps more with right woman.

Swinging Parties: Yes

Email: ~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~.com

My full profile was underneath the basic version. I’d never been a swinger but I knew what it entailed I had no problems with the idea of an orgy! I was looking for someone permanent but I was also looking for sex and I wasn’t going to turn attractive women down.

I spent the next few hours working through the adverts of the women on the site. There were so many. Some were not my type but lots were. I was just starting on the F section when my mail browser notified me that I had e-mail.

I opened up the message to find a picture of a woman called Priscilla. She was my age, pretty and with a lovely voluptuous figure. Priscilla liked to refer to herself as Princess, she was a confirmed swinger and not looking for anything more. She liked my picture and profile and asked for my phone number.

I spoke to Princess that evening and we made a date for the following day. She lived in Bristol so I travelled up to meet her. I set out at 11am and cruised up the M5 to Bristol. WE had agreed to meet at a motoryway service area. The truck stop had a Holiday Inn Express, McDonalds and a full restaurant/mall complex with video games and other amusements for kids as well as a selection of big name high street stores.

The prices were outrageous! Convenience does not come cheap I guess.

At exactly 2pm I stepped out of my Merc and walked up to the main doors of the mall complex. There were lots of places to sit, the weather was warm so I took a pew. We had agreed to meet outside and I was a little early so I went into the Starbucks concession and got a coffee [remember the days when you could just have a simple cup of coffee? Now it seems you need a degree just to order one!]. Back outside I lit a cigarette and sipped my coffee which seemed to have been brewed and maintained at somewhere only slightly below the boiling point of water. I scalded my tongue but the discomfort went away almost instantly the moment I saw her.

I could have been forgiven for not recongising her as her hair was much longer than in the picture she sent me and was full of soft curls. But the smile on her face was exactly the same. She didn’t have a conventionally pretty face but she was certainly striking. Her features were slightly angular but her blue eyes caught your attention. Her lips were full and please forgive me but in the instant that I saw her up close I had a mental picture of those lips wrapped around my cock.

In the flesh she was perhaps 5 feet 8 inches tall, the boots she wore beneath her trousers probably added a couple of inches.

The word Amazon popped into my head but whilst that often conjures up the image of a dominant and slightly imposing woman here it did the opposite.

Her long legs and shortish body made me hard just looking at her. She walked with a confidence that I thought might have been fuelled by bravado. Whether it was an act or not Priscilla radiated sexual heat and class in equal measure.

As she reached me we both leaned forward and shared a brief kiss, it was hardly more than lips touching, a graze. Her perfume was intoxicating. She wore a black knee length leather coat, white satin blouse and black leather trousers. The boots were plain and black, the heels high and spiked.

She stepped back slightly. “Hi there.”

“Hi back.” I replied.

I pride myself on being a gentleman but I’m almost ashamed to say that I was entranced by her tits. They were huge, so big that they kind of took my attention. I think it’s disrespectful for a man to talk to a womans chest so I apologised.

“That’s okay.” Priscilla said. “I’m used to it. I’ve had these since I was seventeen.”

She didn’t seem offended and I took that as a good sign.

I suggested that we get some lunch and a drink so we went to a nearby restaurant, she linked her arm with mine as we walked.

Over the meal we talked a lot, she told me how she had been married young to an abusive man and that her only child, a girl, had died not long after being born. She had been divorced for ten years and was now the same age as me. We talked about love, life and politics, finally we got onto the subject of Natural Curves and she explained that she had been a member for two years. I was the first man she had met in a one on one situation, she usually just went to the parties, sometimes she took part sometimes she didn’t.

Neither of us mentioned what we did for a living. This seemed to be some kind of rule so I didn’t ask.

I discovered that Priscilla was a tortured soul and whilst she wasn’t schizophrenic, the side of her that liked to be called Princess was almost an alter ego. Whilst Priscilla was warm and slightly vulnerable, I found out later that day that Princess was, in some ways, almost the complete opposite. As we talked I noticed that when the subject turned to sex her manner changed, she became bolder maybe even slightly predatory.

I was enchanted, challenged and a little scared!

Oh, and I was horny as hell.

--------

By 4pm we had finished our meal and two bottles of wine though neither of us were even slightly drunk. I have strict rules for myself about drinking and driving so I told her I planned to stay at the motel overnight.

“Are you propositioning me?” She asked.

I smiled. I hadn’t been but it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. “No, unless you want me to.”

Under the table I felt the heel of one of her boots rubbing against my calf. I reached out and placed my hand on hers.