Becoming Blue (Chubby Chasers, Inc. #1)

by Angie M. Brashears

  “I don’t even look like myself,” I say, floored by the transformation. The bullet bra she’s provided brings my tits up to my ears where they jut straight out.

  High-waisted panties lie under white garters... “I’m sexy,” I breathe.

  “You are, dear.” She pats my shoulder, then removes her glasses and wipes tears from her eyes.

  After a quick spritz with Chanel No. 5, I’m led to a back door right next to the waxing area and brought into the photography area.

  Feeling like I’m dreaming, I meet Virg, my photographer. She’s sexy with eyes to die for, Spanish, and makes me feel right at ease with her professionalism. She guides me to the middle of the room to test the lighting. There’s a green screen behind me. I try to look to the edges of the room, but see only dark shadows.

  “You look divine.” My cheeks blush at the compliment. I tilt my head down and she snaps. “So beautiful.” This time I lift a shoulder and look at her through my long, black lashes. “Keep going.” I do, remembering that Sara with no H is not here. Tonight it’s all about Bonita Belle. I give her smoking, sultry looks for Javi, and playful, cheeky looks for Sasha. I give confidence for me, and sweet and pink for Gretchen. A little submissive for Daisy, and finally, dark and sexy for Esmeralda.

  Virg gets it all, frequently changing my positioning but never once trying to direct me. She can see I’ve got this.

  Chapter 29

  Later, at our moonlight dinner with all the ladies, my beauty team included, we toast to me. I raise my glass high, adding a loud, “Hear, hear,” before downing the champagne. It’s late, but the trendy eatery by the beach is packed. Our table sits in the middle of the room. Me, a girl who couldn’t make it down to the corner brunch café.

  I’m in full pinup mode wearing the red and white polka-dot dress along with bright yellow wedges. When I sneak peeks around the room, a local celebrity catches my eye. He nods my way, tilts his glass to me, and winks. I smile, raise my own chin in return, and then give my full attention back to the table of ladies celebrating with me. Tonight there are many eyes on me. Men give me appreciative looks over their girlfriend’s shoulders. Two waiters break their necks trying to get my chair out as I stand to go to the restroom and powder my nose. Sasha smirks and follows me.

  “Some night, huh?” I agree, and we squat next to each other in the stalls, lost in our own thoughts.

  “Sasha, where is he? I really need to see him. I miss him.” I dry my hands before turning back to her, looking her directly in the eye.

  “It’s eleven. On a Sunday night. Shouldn’t be a problem.” She winks, and we head out arm in arm.

  Depositing me at the table, she motions towards her phone and the door. I nod. She’s making it happen. I smile wide at the ladies around the table and finish my chocolate mousse.

  Our chatting is interrupted by a waiter with a chilled bottle of Cristal. “From the gentleman.” He nods towards the leading man who caught my eye earlier. I smile back, all red lips and teeth while the waiter pours.

  “Oh, Blue, you’ve got an admirer.” Gretchen smiles, handing me my very own silver case, wrapped in an electric blue bow. I clap and reach for it, removing the bow. My silver case has a raised cursive B on the cover. I smile at the table and open the clasp.

  My cards are electric blue. Same slogan: Chase me…I don’t waddle too fast. It brings a feeling of pride now. My number ‘13’ is printed in raised black lettering. I feel the code bar along the bottom. “They’re beautiful.” I beam at Gretchen.

  “And it looks like I gave them to you just in time,” she adds, nodding to the blond gentleman who stands just to the left of my chair. For a quick second, I freak and want to run, but my inner Blue cuts loose before I can make a move.

  I raise the glass, along with my eyebrows, and look pointedly at the drink. Watching his reaction, I lick the rim nice and slow before throwing my head back, swallowing it all in one swoop. Puckering my lips, I use just the corner of a napkin to dab before saying, in some crazy breathless voice. “Thank you, kind sir.”

  I offer him my hand, palm down, and he leans down and kisses it. Holy shit! His fingers stroke my palm, but he doesn’t let go. “I’m Bradley.” Like I didn’t know, but all I do is smile.

  He smiles wide. “Do you have a name, lovely?”

  Gretchen, all southern belle, stands to make the introduction. “This is Blue Belle.”

  He remembers where he is and that he’s interrupting. “Where are my manners? I’m Bradley.” He nods around the table, but doesn’t remove his hand from mine.

  I’ve said nothing after the initial thanks. He apologizes for interrupting our dinner, smiles and nods to everyone, and bends to my ear, smelling like cinnamon gum and coffee. “Can I have a word?”

  I nod, using his hand to help me stand, and we head outside just out of Sasha’s earshot. She sees us coming, gives me a quick thumbs up, and turns away.

  He leads me down the steps, using my hand like a rudder, and guides me to a low break wall, motioning for me to sit. The sounds of the waves crashing behind us add to the sensual vibes he’s giving off. When I’m fully seated, he releases my hand and leans on the wall next to me, too close.

  “Miss Belle, you are a vision.” I offer a shy smile, and I tilt my head towards him but say nothing. “Since the minute you walked in, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. When you stood, I saw a flash of garter…” His other hand rubs his face. He looks down, then leans in, “And I’ve been dying to see what they’re attached to.” The sheepish grin on his face makes him look ready to eat.

  “Oh,” I say, my hand coming to rest on my exposed breasts. I’m practically hyperventilating at his confession. He’s a southern boy, and my southern girl wants to come out and play.

  He leans in, gesturing towards my legs. “May I?”

  And I say you sure as hell may! By giving a quick nod. He straddles my legs, hiding me from view. Both hands slide up my satin-covered thighs, taking my dress and petticoat with them. We both watch as the tops of my garters are exposed, nice and slow, then the tiniest swatch of white silky triangle is revealed. Wet, I see. He sucks in a breath, muttering, “I knew you’d be perfect.” I steal a peek at his thick cock pressing against his linen pants. It’s only fair, right?

  “That one’s for free.” Sasha stomps up behind him, pulling my dress down hastily and breaking our sex spell. I’m pretty sure I would’ve let him have me right here without her intervention. “Belle, where’s your box?” I look between my legs before realizing she means the silver case. “I left it on the table.”

  She nods, expecting as much. She turns to the movie star. “She’s got a previous engagement we need to get to.” He nods as if my dance card would always be filled. Following behind, hands deep in his pockets, he makes some last minute adjustments before we reach our table.

  With an arched eyebrow, she points to my box and takes her seat.

  I take a deep breath, pull out one of my cards, palming it to him. I use a finger to motion him down to my level, his face inches from my heaving boobs. “I’m lucky number ‘13’ if you’re interested.” So breathy.

  Staring directly at my boobs, he replies. “Oh, I am.” Standing tall, his dick on display for the whole restaurant, he says to our waiter. “Dinner’s on me,” before nodding to the table. “Ladies,” he says with a nod and smile, before heading back to his own table.

  “Thanks for dinner, Bullet Bra!” Esmeralda reaches over and squeezes my boobs. Her unexpected antics cause us all to giggle. “I wanna motorboat these muthas so bad right now.” She’s never spoken one word to me, and now she’s motor-boating? I throw back my head and laugh, loud and long, not caring whose watching. I reach over and give her a kiss on the cheek, leaving a red print.

  I blow a Marilyn Monroe-sized kiss to Bradley on the way out. He catches it. How hot is that?

  Sasha spanks my ass hard. She’s not a fan of boys who pull up girls dresses, I see. “He just wanted to know what was under there,
jeez.” I say with an eye roll, feigning exasperation at her.

  She nods, not buying it. “Let’s go, Peep show.”

  Hugs all around in the parking lot and then Sash and I hit the road, top up tonight. She knows before I even have to say anything that I want Javi to see me like this. And I wanna look good.

  We pull into the parking lot just before midnight. She pats my hand and motions towards the door. It’s swank, that’s for sure. Even in the dead of night, this place screams money, and I mean lots of it. Stalling, I pull the lighted mirror down from the visor, checking my stay-put Shameless Red lips. Perfect. I pucker and blow a kiss anyway, waiting for my nerves to stop jangling.

  Softly, with none of her usual flair, she says, “Call me if you need me. He’s waiting up for you.”

  I nod, hoping I won’t have to see him in a straitjacket. I pull up my big-girl panties and go to him.

  A nurse at the front desk smiles at me as soon as I walk in. Are they going to roll the red carpet out, too? “You must be Javi’s girlfriend. Bonita, is it?” I nod. This man has no boundaries. She turns a clipboard my way and asks me to sign. I almost sign as my alter ego, Blue Belle, but stop myself. This might be official, I think, and scrawl plain old Sara—with no H—Patterson. My shoulders already feel droopier at the use of the old name. I follow her through corridors into an elevator.

  “I love your shoes,” she gushes, and I want to tell her there’s no need for small talk. But she insists. “Where’d you get them? The little bows on the back are divine. And I absolutely love your dress.” Is she pandering for a tip?

  I tap a toe, showing her how impatient I am. “Kmart.” Her eyes open wide. I wave my hand down my body. “And just so we don’t have to go through every item of my wardrobe, everything you see is a blue-light special, direct from Kmart.” Her mouth forms into a tiny O at my snide comment.

  The doors open, and I’m off, not even knowing where I’m going. What I’m even doing here. I feel like I might throw up. Why is he even here? In this place? I lean against a pale green wall, waiting for her to catch the fuck up.

  “This way,” she says all business-like, the former flattery long gone. She received my bitchy message loud and clear.

  I’m taken to a metal door with a small window in it. “In here?” I ask. “Is this even safe?” She looks at me sideways, straight down her skinny nose. Ah, the first real look I’ve gotten since I moved into the house.

  “What? Did you expect armed guards?” Hmm. Don’t like this snarky attitude on her; liked the small talker better. She opens the door, which thankfully is unlocked, and waits for me to enter.

  “Bonita!” he yells at the sight of me, jumping up and pulling me so close. “I’ve missed you so much!” He says while raining kisses on my face and hair. His hard body, dressed in sweats and a white T-shirt jumps in my hands, he’s so wired. I pull away, putting the Holy Ghost between us, and push him to arm’s length. The nurse is gone. I half-expected her to chaperone the whole meeting, but there’s just a closed door. It’s just me and him here.

  His eyes never leave my face as I take in the room. It looks like a very nice, no-cockroaches-or-cum-stains Motel 6 in here.

  “This is nice,” I mutter, walking a circle around the room. Now I’m the small-talker. I move to stand in front of his desk, and look at what’s on it. He’s making lists. Shopping lists. For food. My names at the top.

  I turn away from that and back to him. He is quiet, letting me absorb it all. From deep inside, anger rears its ugly head, and I spit out, “Why did you give me so much attention and then leave me?” I want to be mad. I do. At him, at the situation, at losing my past shitty life, at them—yes, all of them—for giving me this new glamourous one. It feels like I’m in the middle of a fat girl fairytale and it’s all just come to an end when I find my handsome prince is locked in a tower.

  “Is this how you get your kicks? Making fat girls need you and then abandoning them?” This last part I scream out, automatically cringing, waiting for the nurse to come kick me out for disturbing the peace. His strong arms hold me tight, my face pressed to his chest. I know I’m leaving a perfect red kiss on his shirt, but I don’t care. This is where I want to be, here with him, or there with him, just with him wherever he is. “I’ve missed you.”

  Tears are falling now. I couldn’t stop them if I tried. I’m just bone-tired, exhausted from all the great things that are happening to me, wonderful things, really. Even good stress is still stress. Yet… “I don’t deserve all of this,” I wail, and sob harder into his fresh shirt.

  Somehow, I don’t know what he does for a workout, he lifts me and places me gently down on his bed. I lose a shoe somewhere in the process. Standing over me, his white shirt ruined, he says, “You deserve all of this and more, Bonita.” He bends, making a show of smoothing my skirt and ruffled dress around me. “You are my beautiful angel, and I’ve missed you more than you will ever know.” He removes my other shoe rubbing my stockinged foot. “I just want to make sure I do not ruin you with my madness.” A soft kiss is placed on the arch of my foot.

  “Why couldn’t you just talk to me? At least tell me you were leaving, that you needed help, I could’ve…”

  “No, Bonita, shhh.” He places a finger over my lips, but I’m feeling bratty, and between Bradley the movie star and now hunky home-repair guy, a little unfulfilled, so I suck that finger into my mouth and bite it. Hard.

  He sucks his breath in but leaves his finger in my mouth, pinning my tongue. “Oh, Bonita, are you hungry, little one?”

  I nod, pouting my lower lip out, rubbing it on his finger. I’m so bad. I’m tempting a lunatic right now, God help me. I suck his finger hard, watching his eyes which never leave my red lips.

  “Just for you, Javi.” In my mind it sounds sexy. My ears just hear a garbled mess. Saliva runs down my chin as I continue to suck his fingers. My hands reach for his belt, wanting something more substantial. Pulling back, he pops his finger out of my mouth like a cork. “One sec,” he says and he’s heading for the door.

  “Javi, no! Not food. You.” But I’m talking to an empty room. “Ugh!” I throw a hand over my eyes. This man is so frustrating. I hope he’s not escaping.

  When he comes back in, he’s got a pink pastry box. Of course.

  I sit, my legs under me, eager to start. “What, no flan?” I’m asking for it, I know, and by the hot looks he’s flashing me, he’s gonna give it to me.

  “Zip it, Bonita, until I tell you to open those beautiful lips just for me.” Oh. Hot HJavi is now bossy Javi. I like it.

  He puts the pastry box down, forgotten for a moment, and comes back to me. “Finish what you started. Make me bare.” Oh, he’s so fucking hot with his crazy dirty talk. I reach for his pants, zipping the belt through the buckles. His hips jerk, pushing his cock—no, his monkey—towards my face. “Does your monkey want a kiss?”

  A moan falls from his lips, and I rush to get his pants down. Just briefs between us.

  I see it peeking at me. So big, engorged with blood. Glistening with wetness, begging for my lips, my tongue. I look up with wide eyes, the picture of innocence and look deep into his hooded ones. He’s not giving anything away. I bend down, breathing on the tip of it. Aww, there’s a moan. My tongue darts out. I turn my head so he can see me lick it clean. Just the tip. I feel him shaking against me, but I just give it an innocent little kiss.

  He pulls away, moaning, and pinches the tip hard. “No, nothing passes through your lips but sweetness.” He shakes his head. “Oh, my Bonita, you’re gonna kill me,” He turns, regaining his composure, his back to me. He rips his shirt off and throws it in the corner. Keeping his back to me, he says, “Stand and get out of that dress please.” The ‘please’ sounds like a curse word falling from his lips. I can’t wait. I stand, facing his broad back, and untie the bow of my halter dress.

  Holding the bodice of the dress against my chest, my resolve leaves me. I’m feeling all kinds of nerves rolling through me, as I w
hisper, “I’m a virgin, Javi. Please go slow,” through chattering teeth.

  He gives a curt nod but doesn’t turn to me. “I know this, Bonita. You were made for me.” Very quietly, as if in prayer, he says, “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Once I move my hand, the dress falls to my feet. Still facing away from me, he holds his hand out to his side. I bend, pick up the dress, and lay it over his outstretched arm. I stand and stare at the flex of his back while he gently folds it in half, then in half again. He lifts the folded parcel to his nose deeply.

  Fidgeting from foot to foot, I feel like I might have to pee. “Javi,” I start, but he turns and I see the hurt in his eyes. “What is it?” I cry, moving to hug him.

  Lifting his chin, proud and naked, he chastises me. “Bonita, I may be crazy, well, in the eyes of the State of California, maybe, but I would never take your flower here.” He looks around the room in disgust. “No, my love, you will be on our wedding bed before I have your virtue.” Striking his bare chest with his fist for emphasis, he declares, “This I promise you.”

  I hug him to me, but he gives me a grandfatherly hug, his crotch firmly out of reach, and pushes me away ever so gently, shaking his head.

  “I’m so in love with you, Bonita, it hurts.” I nod, not sure if he’s really in love with me or just infatuated. “I want to be truthful in all things, and what you said earlier about the flan...” I feel bad now and grimace at his words. “Don’t frown, Bonita. Your face will get stuck like that.” He reaches down, tenderly stroking my cheek. “I would’ve preferred it actually.” sensing a laugh in his words, I look up and catch the smirk. “But this will have to do.” He steps back, reaching for the box, pushing the lid back and revealing his prize. “This may be my only night with you. After this, you might just sign the papers to keep me here indefinitely.”