Curve Couture

by H. M. Irwing

  Still, there was nothing usual about the warm hand wrapped about my person—not in the industry sense and definitely not in a personal sense. My senses, as it were, went clamouring wildly with every exquisite sensation his touch invoked on me.

  “So, Erin, who are you taking to the show tonight?” called out Rafael, impishly hoping to stir up trouble. That finally snapped me out of it. Jolted back to a sudden awareness to my surroundings, I pulled helplessly against Erin’s arm, still feeling terribly weak in the limbs. My release was excruciatingly slow in coming. Drawing his hand away slowly, letting it drift to slide across my stomach, he caressed the underside of my heavy breasts as he withdrew.

  I moved away then, weakly, to hide behind drawn curtains while I changed. Listening avidly for his answer as I went.

  “None of your business,” said Erin mildly.

  “Rumor has it you’re taking Janice?”

  I paused amidst drawing up my pants. It stung that he would go out with my sister after… after… after he’d flirted so shamelessly with me. I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid for letting him touch me. Why would he be at all interested in me when beautiful Janice was around? I pulled on my shirt and buttoned it up, not bothering donning on my bra. I just wanted to leave as quickly as I could. I stuffed my belongings into my duffle and rushed out, calling my goodbyes as I went.

  “Wait up. I’ll give you a lift,” called out Erin as he moved to hurry after me.

  “No thanks!” I called back, not slowing down. With the temper I was in, I’d rather walk the whole block home than accept a ride with him.

  In this too, as with all things else, the fates sided against me.

  The ride in the car was as tensed as before. Only this time, it was mostly due to my compressed anger rather than some ridiculous assumptions from an overactive imagination. Sexual tension indeed! As if Erin Robertson had even a remote interest in jumping my bones.

  I sat there, fuming. I didn’t appreciate being duped—or manhandled, for that matter. I hadn’t, after all, gotten into this car with him voluntarily. Enticing though that offer had been, I couldn’t allow it in principal. Thankfully, he paid me no heed, and I ended up in his car regardless. Still, that did not mean I had to appear happy about it. Or sit hear listening to what he had to say. I blew out a huff of hot air and, deliberately, though with some effort, drew my eyes away from his alluring profile to stare out the window. Refusing to pay heed over his attempts to reason with me, I stared out mutely at the passing cars, the footpaths littered with people, most dressed in suits. Erin’s cajoling tone washed over me, strengthening an already undeniable hold that he had over me. He was just so irresistible. But I was so over being played with.

  Although, to be fair, I’d only been played once, and it had been mutual. Colin was a grand mistake never to be repeated, and Erin would be a mistake that would likely never even happen.

  With a heavy sigh, I gave up an attempt to peer out the window and turned eager eyes back to rest on him—still mid-fuming, of course. I may not be able to deny his visual appeal, but that didn’t mean I had to give in to the guy completely. Who was I kidding? This man could walk all over me, and I would still roll over at the slightest lift to the corner of his luscious lips. I could still appreciate his raw appeal. Just thinking of the pressure he had applied to my forearm earlier to redirect me to his car was enough to bring out the hunger for more. And that was always underlying the tension brimming all over us. I could pounce on him and tear off his clothing … and…

  We were here.

  I promptly gathered my duffel and slammed out of his car to march angrily to my home without a backward glance at him. I ignored the niggling thoughts that he had given me a ride home, so I did owe him a thank you at the very least. Proudly resisting the urge to fall onto my knees and grovel with him to come in after me and …

  I was already at my door and heaving a sigh of relief as I stepped into its cool, inviting depths when a well-shod foot shoved itself between the closing door. Even knowing that foot could belong to none other than Erin, I still gasped to find that he had followed me in.

  Without an explanation and with an inscrutable expression, he reached out to grab at my shirt and start unbuttoning.

  “Wha-?” I stuttered in shock. “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded finally after organizing my thoughts back.

  “I’m undressing you,” he murmured softly, his head bent in attention to what he was doing. “Can you not tell?”— lifting his hooded eyes to pierce me with their startling blue— “As my date for tonight, you cannot possibly go out in this. In fact, we have no time at all.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he drew out his mobile and set it to call. Keeping his mesmerizing eyes trained on mine, he murmured into the phone. “I am calling in a favor. Send a team over. Hair, makeup, and bring over a suitable dress for tonight. Heels and accessories too, I think.” He hung up then and bent to tap out my directions into his phone.

  “I am not going with you,” I felt compelled to say even if I died inside saying it.

  “Sure, you will,” he said soothingly, reaching out to resume his unbuttoning of my shirt. By now, the gaping in my bodice was already positively indecent, but he persisted regardless ‘til both halves fell apart to hang uselessly, framing my larger than life mammaries. His gaze rested there then—intent and unmoving. He reached out a trembling hand to sweep a long, slender index finger to swipe at the underside of one breast. I swayed forward suddenly, weak limbed. My hands reached up to grasp about his clenched biceps even as his hands settled about my waist, holding me up and drawing me in to him. I went willingly, no longer able to even fake an attempt to resist.

  “In the meantime,” he whispered huskily, before he dropped his head down to take another swipe, only this time, with his tongue—only this time, on my distended nipples. I shivered and helplessly thrust my torso out further, silently asking for more. “In the meantime, I will punish you.”

  “Huh?” That had me blinking.

  “It’s time you learned some manners,” he murmured casually, leaning back to deliver me a rakish smile with an irrepressibly evil glint to his eye. “And be polite to your manager so that he will continue to grant you such favors, no?” He reached between my gaping lapels of my shirt to cup a mound in his palm and squeeze lightly.

  Punish me with sexual frustrations? Yeah! Bring it on.

  “To your bedroom, I think,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes trained on my not unimpressive assets. I held them up proudly, unable to stop myself from preening under his obvious interest.

  “I am not going to bed with you. I don’t even know you,” I declared adamantly, proud of my ability to protest and deny myself a bedding with the God among men. Was I insane?

  “I don’t share my cock with just anyone, love. I’m sure you’ve heard. But I cannot deny the pull of these magnificent beasts,” he paused to gaze on admiringly.

  “I think you mean breasts,” I said, helping him out.

  “These are so much more. It’s as if they have a life of their own,” he whispered mesmerized.

  “It’s because they’re not silicone implants,” I whispered back furiously.

  “Hmm… you could be right,” Erin replied with an up-to-no-good goofy grin.

  “Come,” he said, grabbing my arm in a grip that couldn’t be broken and tugging me off to my room. I seriously did consider protesting and resisting, but Erin has always been my secret desire, and I was not stupid to pass up this chance.

  “Get on the bed,” he demanded, and I did, uncaring that the gesture afforded him an up close and personal view of my jiggling ass.

  “I won’t have sex with you,” I protested half-heartedly, out of principal.

  “You sure won’t,” he agreed all too readily before moving to join me on the bed.

  “I mean it,” I said breathlessly, feeling the need to make a final attempt to appease my conscience. My eyes zoomed in and stayed with the movements of his fing
ers leisurely unbuttoning his shirt. I silently urged them on.

  “I know,” he replied soothingly. Then, his shirt was falling away, and just like that, I very nearly pounced on him. His perfect abs were mouth-watering, and that was not the only part of me swimming in a pool of lust.

  “Sex is not just about me stuffing my cock up your pussy,” Erin was saying, sending another wave of hot flush of lust, rushing to my nerve endings, making me crave for just that. To have his … up my…

  “Oh, God,” I muttered, already so incredibly turned on to a melting point. It wouldn’t take much to send me over the edge.

  But then, he was reaching out to push aside my shirt ‘til it fell off my shoulders, closing in the distance between us and pressing himself up against me. The contact of skin against skin had a guttural moan of longing leaving my lips me even as I cried out for more.

  “Soon, baby,” he whispered soothingly before lowering his lips to brush tenderly across my ears. The shudders that racked through me then had a reciprocating effect with Erin clutching me in closer and burying his open mouth in the curve of my neck where he moved to work his way down to my waiting tits.

  “More,” I begged as he evaded the aching areolas to rain kisses down the valley between my massive mounds.

  “More what, darling? You’ll have to tell me,” he urged huskily.

  Just then, the doorbell pealed, causing a cry of denial to burst forth out of my throbbing but still untouched lips. But Erin was already moving away, picking up his shirt. He shrugged into it and then moved to my chest of drawers to tug them open and pushed them shut randomly.

  I huffed out a frustrated breath as I fell back onto my bed, my eyes still raking him in greedily. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He lifted a large-cupped bra in response, waving it triumphantly as he made his way back to the bed.

  “Get off, and I’ll strap you in,” he said as if the bra were some sort of harness. I felt like tossing his teasing ass across my bed and having my way with him, but as it were, I only meekly complied, feeling utterly disappointed.

  “Turn around,” he muttered just as the bell impatiently pealed again. I pushed my arm through the strap and waited for him to slot the hooks in. It was a wait in vain.

  The doorbell rang again, then again… and still, he struggled on.

  “I’ll do it,” I offered for the umpteenth time.

  “I can manage,” he gritted out for the umpteenth time.

  He tugged and pulled then stuck his hand in to grab a tit and try to forcefully shove it into the cups.

  “Your bra is too small,” he insisted again.

  “No, it isn’t,” I vehemently denied, not quite truthfully, for I was sure they were swelled up in lust for him, and his rough handling of them weren’t helping.

  The bell pealed again.

  “I’ll do it,” I offered again, getting annoyed. I could have done it twice over already in the time it was taking him to do up my bra.

  “I will not let these,” he muttered, cupping my breasts in his hands, “defeat me.” Then, he tried stuffing them into the bra again.

  “I can understand you’ve only had experience in removing the contraption, not so much as slapping them back on,” I said snidely, unable to help myself.

  “I’ll have you know that I’ve done both, and I will not cave in to these Everest,” he exclaimed insistently.

  Suddenly, I’d had enough. Reaching out, I shoved his hands away then pulled on and hooked up the bra myself before twisting it back and slipping my arms in. I ignored the gasp from behind me, no doubt at how quickly I had conquered the Everest and grabbed at my shirt, buttoning up as I went to open the door.

  “Hot as fuck!” he called softly after me, his words instantly deflating my anger and simultaneously firing up my blood. The rush of lust never far beneath the surface resurged with a vengeance.

  I opened the door and exclaimed, “Colin?”

  Chapter 4

  “Colin?” I stared in amazement.

  “What the fuck is he doing here?” cried Colin as he pushed past me to stride into the living room as if he owned it.

  Erin ignored him as he continued to button up his shirt before moving to take a casual seat on the lounging chair.

  “Look, it doesn’t matter why he’s here. What are you doing here?” I demanded, dead annoyed at having quite possibly my only chance ever to get it on with Erin interrupted by this piece of shit. There’s a famous saying here somewhere. … Be careful whom you sleep with, for they might just come back to fuck you.

  “I came on behalf of your sister, Janice,” he stated pompously. “Have you no shame, flaunting your fat ass to the world in some poor representation of a model? Plus-size model. The very notion is an antithesis to the term model. How can a plus-size anything be a model to society? It doesn’t take any effort or skill to binge on garbage and then strut about, flaunting it all on excess fanny.”

  Alright, the man had issues.

  If I’d been feeling shitty all day, this would be the low of all lows. I could feel my blood boil in response. Without any conscious thoughts, my hand lifted and slammed across his cheek with enough strength to give him whiplash.

  The howl of laughter that erupted from the vicinity of the couch did not help sooth my ruffled feathers, so I found myself airborne and then crashing into Colin to land in a thump on his scrawny six-pack abs.

  Then, it was as if all hell broke loose. The doorbell pealed almost simultaneously, announcing the arrival of my dressers, and from the sofa, the howls of laughter grew nearly hysterical. Then, right within the impact zone I was being buffeted with, “Get the fucking hell off me! You fat ass!”

  So naturally, I burst into an outpour of tears.

  I ignored the vitriol that continued to be heard sprouting out from an enraged Colin as I rose unseeingly to my feet. But then, Erin was there, reaching out to haul me up and into his arms before he reached down threateningly to do the same and then a little more to Colin. Colin unwisely accepted his proffered hand then regretted it instantly with a howl of pain. I stepped back more than a little, confused. Then, at the consistent peal of the doorbell, I swung around to go answer it, suddenly eager for that something to do.

  I couldn’t imagine what I ever saw in Colin that had me letting him be my very first. The last-man-standing or, more appropriately, the only-man-ever-likely, was no longer a good enough justification for my stupidity. I was deep in a void of my own creation, standing, staring unseeingly at my closed front door. The doorbell must have rung again, for my hand was reaching out to grasp the door handle to open it.

  “What the fuck is going on in here? I was ringing that bell for ages,” said an exotic svelte blonde who clicked her way in with precise strides that was sheer eroticism.

  “Chantel!” cried out Colin. “What are you doing here?” he asked, scrambling to his feet and glaring at a grinning Erin all the way. I glared at Erin too, but Chantel was a distraction that was difficult to avoid. She very nearly screamed for attention, and in a room with two egoistical male supermodels, that was saying something.

  “I come to do Erin a favor and attire his new foundling for tonight,” she declared unconcerned. Then, staring at me, she declared, “I will make you the show stopper tonight. You will put them all to shame.”

  I managed a watery smile at that. I was already ashamed of myself, so that would be an appreciated turn of events. Closing my eyes, I resigned myself to the inevitable—yet more primping and prodding. That would surely be the norm from this moment on. Taking a deep breath, I took a step forward, clearly offering myself up for the deconstruction and reconstruction process of making me presentable. Never would I be able to simply just brush my teeth and head out the door again. But I guess glam was just the price I had to pay to be a part of all this. It was surprising really, that in all my years of managing Janice, I’d never picked up the finer points of dressing up. “I am all yours. Do with me what you will.”

&nb
sp; A statement I’d later regret.

  My scalp hurt.

  Chantel seemed to have been fighting some personal vendetta of her own that she happily took out on my hair as she brutally tugged and tore out half of it before brow beating my mane into the slick lines it was now sporting.

  I took unsteady steps forward and concentrated on not toppling over on the ridiculously thin heels that miraculously had not yet snapped under the strain of my weight. I took mincing steps forward and gripped harder on Erin’s rock-hard arms to haul him back into a slower pace. The skirts of my red leather dress were pencil thin and form fitting, so my strides were limited. The plunging neckline spilled to my navel, displaying the curves of my creamy tits for all to ogle. The back of my dress was as risqué, the low back caressing the top of my buttocks. I was naked beneath the dress and uncomfortable in the extreme. I turned my head to frown warningly at Erin, who had continued to burst into chuckles throughout the evening so far.

  The bejewelled leather straps that circled my neck and held the bodice of my dress up also served to hold my head up high and restrict my movements. This whole ensemble was some ludicrous torture device, designed for the dumber women, and here I was, modeling it for all to buy. I knew the dress and accessories were from sponsors, as would be most of my wardrobe from here on out. I would be using my body to sell things.

  “Will you stop laughing? You are looking quite insane!” I said sarcastically, not at all happy to be the cause of all that laughter, especially, when they were all at my expense. Still, Erin looked anything but insane. He couldn’t look anything but gorgeous, and that was no laughing matter, at least not for me.