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.
