ONE HOT KNIGHT BOX SET
Angelina Jenoire Hamilton
Copyright © 2013 Angelina Jenoire Hamilton
All rights reserved.
CURVES FOR A KNIGHT
As I stood looking at myself in the full-length dressing room mirror, I wanted to die. The white dress with blue polka dots I had chosen for the first day on my new job barely contained my massive figure. I felt like I had been squeezed into it, and remembering the struggle I had undertaken to get it on, that was an apt description. This size would have fit me only a couple of weeks ago. Was I getting even bigger? Was that even possible?
The huge mountains of my boobs spilled over the top of the dress, making it look like I was in one of those tight corset dresses of the Regency period. But no Regency girl would have worn one of those dresses that were the fashion of the day if she had a bust like mine. The twin creamy globes of smooth flesh wobbled like two domes of jello and my cleavage looked deep enough to lose a ruler in. I sighed and my eyes travelled down over my rounded belly that the dress’s wide belt did little to hide and the wide flare of my hips covered in the polka dot material. I stood sideways and looked at the curve of my ass, grimacing as it came into view. The phrase, ‘Does my bum look big in this?’ isn’t something I ever say; my bum looks big in everything.
‘This is no good,’ I shouted to my best friend Sara who was stood outside. ‘I...I need the next size larger. Make that two sizes.’
‘OK, Hun, you wait right there.’
Of course I would wait right here; there was no way I would be seen dead walking across the department store in this dress. I sighed and unzipped it, breathing out in relief as I got the constricting belt off and managed to extract myself from the tight garment.
I stood in the tiny space, trying not to look at myself in my bra and panties and wondering with horror if the mirrors were two-way and a security guard could be on the other side watching me and making sure I wasn’t shoplifting anything. If so, I pitied him or her. Could they even bear to watch as a whale like me got undressed in front of them? In a way, I was glad I was single because I couldn’t inflict all this weight and size on any man. Not that any man would want it anyway, of course.
I had been surprised when Mr Jacobs had given me the job at the bookstore...wasn’t he afraid I might scare potential customers off with my size?
‘Here you go, Amy,’ Sara said, handing me a dress through the curtains that were the only thing separating my underwear-clad body from the shoppers in the store. I manoeuvred myself so that I couldn’t be seen from the outside and I passed her the dress that was too small before pulling the curtains closed.
I got the larger dress on much easier but the material still stretched taut across my bust, belly and bum. Oh well, there was nothing I could do about that unless I wore a tent. I adjusted the belt and checked myself out in the mirror. I would do. At least my long auburn hair looked nice, and even I thought my face was pretty. My mother had always said I was pretty as a picture but I noticed in all our family photos that she only ever took pictures of me from the neck up. No need to subject unsuspecting viewers of our family album to my weighty body.
I removed the dress, again mentally apologizing to any security guard that might be behind the mirror, even though I think that’s just a rumour about two ways mirrors in dressing rooms. I put it back on the hanger and hung it on the plastic hook on the wall before putting the clothes I had arrived in back on. My jeans felt comfortable and safe and my baggy sweater did its best to hide my curves but Mr Jacobs had made it clear at the interview that the booksellers at Pulp And Paperbacks had to dress smartly so the jeans were no good for work. I pulled back the curtain and grabbed the dress on the hanger.
‘Well?’ Sara asked as I joined her among the clothing racks in the store. ‘Did it look nice?’
I shrugged. ‘As nice as anything could look on me.’
‘Oh, Amy, you have to stop thinking like that. This is a new beginning for you with the job and everything. I bet you’ll meet lots of men at the bookstore.’
‘I have a rumour that men read books,’ I said, ‘but I also heard that they like slim women.’
‘Oh, nonsense. Some men like brunettes and some like redheads, some like thin women and some like their women...bigger. It takes all kinds to make the world go round.’
‘Well I don’t know where those men are hiding because I’ve never met any.’ Most men gave me a wide berth...a very wide berth.
‘Amy, you look gorgeous. You really shouldn’t put yourself down. The right man will come along, you’ll see.’
I headed for the checkout and got in line. ‘I don’t think this is the right time in my life to meet a man. I have too much other stuff going on.’ As the words came out, they didn’t even sound convincing to me. Sara and I both knew that my life was hardly exciting or even busy. I had been unemployed for almost a year after being ‘let go’ from my mid-level government accounting job because of the recession. During that year, I had tried to find work but nothing had panned out until I saw an ad in the window of a small bookstore that said ‘Help Wanted’. I could help and I liked to be wanted so I talked to Mr Jacobs and he offered to employ me on a trial basis. Other than that, it had been a pretty crappy year. I had stayed at home mostly and made a nest on the sofa in front of the TV. Some days I hadn’t even bothered to change out of my pyjamas. Sara had tried her best to snap me out of my funk and so had my parents but I was in deep.
At least things were looking up now. I started at Pulp And Paperbacks the next morning and I was determined to get past Mr Jacobs’ probationary period and make a go at bookselling. I knew all about books; I loved them. I read all kinds of things from science fiction to fantasy to romance. If a customer came in wanting recommendations, I was their girl.
As for men? My last relationship had ended 18 months ago and he had been a bastard who treated me like dirt. At the time, I had taken it because I had believed that no other man would want me. I still believed that but now I had come to terms with the fact and was willing to just stay single forever.
So men were definitely off the menu.
* * *
‘Do you have any of the Gor novels by John Norman?’ He leaned over the counter and I looked up and flushed, feeling my heart do a little dance in my chest. His grey eyes were so intense!
‘Erm...yes. I’ll just check the Fantasy section for you.’ I got up from behind the counter and I felt those eyes drink me in. ‘Sorry, fella,’ I told him mentally, ‘I hate to disappoint you but I’m a big girl.’ It was times like these that I wished I didn’t eat and spent four hours a day in the gym. He was the kind of guy whose looks made you feel all melty inside. Not only that, I could feel my nipples harden against the cups of my bra. Just the guy’s looks pressed all my buttons...tight, muscular body beneath a black tee and faded blue denim jacket. Tight jeans that bulged at just the right place. I wanted him to turn around so I could see his ass. I knew it would be tight and perfect. Around those piercing eyes, his face was ruggedly handsome and his black hair reached the collar of the jacket. He looked to be in his early thirties and good enough to eat.
I suddenly felt even larger than usual. He was obviously into keeping fit and body image was important to him so what must he think of me? The big girl in the polka dot dress with hardening nipples on her huge breasts poking at him through the material. And in a moment when I led him to the Fantasy section at the back of the bookshop, he would get to see my big hips and ass. Nice. He’d probably tell all his friends about it at the gym later.
I walked to the back of the shop, past the pulpy-smelling stacks of books and haphazard rows of overflowing bookshelves, feeling his eyes on me th
e whole way. I tried to lessen the swing of my hips and the bounce in my ass but there wasn’t much I could do about either of them. We got past the maze of paperbacks and into the side room that had a white sign with the word ‘Fantasy’ over the doorway. I stepped into the tight space and indicated the shelves. ‘This is the Fantasy section. The Gorean books are on the shelf there and there might be a couple in that pile by the wall.’
‘You’re familiar with Gor?’ he asked. ‘You used the word Gorean. Only someone into the books...or the lifestyle...would use that word.’
‘Erm...I read a couple of them some years ago. If you find anything you like, just bring it to the checkout.’ I wanted to get out of there. The space seemed to be too small for both him and me. I felt like the walls were closing in, that it was getting suddenly hot in here. Mainly because of my size, I supposed. I wasn’t built for small spaces.
‘I’m sure I’ll find something I like,’ he said. ‘I already have.’ His eyes flashed a knowing look at me. Certain I had misinterpreted that look, because there was no way he could mean me, I hastily made my exit and trekked back through the avenues of books to the safety of the checkout counter. I had been working here for two weeks and in all that time, nothing had flustered me so much as the arrival of this customer. I stood behind the counter wishing that someone else would come into the store to distract me from the thought of the gorgeous guy looking for Gor books in the Fantasy section.
I smiled to myself. He had asked if I was into the Gorean lifestyle. That had been funny. Little did he know I wasn’t into any lifestyle. The guy was obviously into BDSM and domination. Norman’s books told of a fantasy world where men were big muscular barbarians and women were there to serve them and be treated as the men saw fit. I had to admit that when I read the books in my early twenties, I had found them...arousing. The thought of a man taking control definitely turned me on. The men I had slept with in my life...a grand total of two...were of the turn-the-lights-off vanilla sex wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am variety. I didn’t mind turning out the lights, in fact I insisted on it, but something more than missionary position and a time span of approximately two minutes would be nice.
The shop’s phone rang suddenly, pulling me out of my fantasy/depression. I picked it up and put on my professional voice.
‘Pulp and Paperbacks, how may I help?’
‘I need a little more assistance in the Fantasy department.’ It was him. The guy in the back of the store. My heart did a little flip.
‘Assistance?’ I asked.
‘There’s a book I want to look at on the top shelf. Do you have steps or something to reach up there?’
Mr Jacobs had sturdy wooden steps for getting to the top shelves but he had told me that in no way could customers be allowed to use them. Only store staff. He didn’t want a law suit on his hands. ‘We do have steps but I’ll have to get the book for you.’
‘Yeah, I saw the sign.’
‘Sign?’
‘There’s a set of wooden steps here but there’s a sign that says customers must ask the bookshop staff to get books from high shelves. And I’m a customer and you’re the bookshop staff so I’m asking you.’
So why the hell had he asked me if we had steps when he was looking at some right in front of him?
I sighed. ‘I’ll be right there.’
‘Thanks.’ He hung up.
I made my way back to the Fantasy room. He was standing there with a grin on his face. ‘Thanks for this, Amy,’ he said.
So he had managed to read my Pulp And Paperbacks name badge. That meant he had been looking at my chest. That meant he probably saw my nipples poking at the dress earlier. I felt hot again. I took the steps and positioned them against the shelf. Luckily they were sturdy and would take even my weight.
‘Which book was it that you wanted, Sir?’
‘No need for formalities. My name’s Jorn.’
‘Which book...Jorn?’ Strange name. Scandinavian?
He pointed to the very top shelf. ‘See that copy of Raiders Of Gor up there?’
I frowned. The Gor books were all shelved together much lower down. How had that one managed to get up there? There was no way a customer could have taken it from its usual place, looked at it, then replaced it up on the top shelf. Not without using the steps. And why would they do that anyway?
I climbed the steps, pressing my hands against the bookshelves to steady myself. Jorn looked up at me and I realized that the polka dot dress was short enough that he could see under the skirt. I took a quick mental stock of what he could see. My big thighs in dark stockings, probably my stocking tops and suspenders, my white knickers. He could probably see the cheeks of my ass where they weren’t covered by my panties. I cringed.
I looked up at the top shelf to avoid him seeing my blushing, mortified face. I reached for the book and just as my fingers contacted it, I felt something touch the back of my left calf. Jorn’s hand. It felt strong and confident and his fingers tested the soft stocking-clad flesh of my leg.
‘Sir, I...’
‘It’s Jorn,’ he told me. ‘You have beautiful legs.’
I didn’t know what to say or do. This was definitely wrong. But having a man touch me like this was something I had missed for so long and I didn’t want it to stop. His hand slid up over the back of my knee, making me tremble, then up the back of my thigh.
‘So soft,’ he whispered.
My nipples rose into excited twin towers and I felt warm dampness between my legs. I wanted to press myself back against his hand, to feel him touch me anywhere he wanted. I realized I was almost panting with excitement.
His fingers reached the swell of my bottom and they stroked over the bare cheek before moving inwards and over the taut cotton of my knickers, running over the cleft that told him where my ass crack was. He traced down it with one finger and I groaned and pressed myself against him.
Jorn’s touch was light but firm as he followed the crack of my bottom down to the dampness of my crotch. He touched my pussy lips through the cotton and I almost cried out but bit my lip to stop myself. My head felt like it was swimming in a heady mixture of sex chemicals that my body had suddenly released to switch me from Amy the girl who thought she was too fat to Amy the woman who needed a man.
He stroked over my lips through the panties and cupped my fleshy pubic mound with his strong hand. I wanted to grind myself against his palm and no sooner had I thought that then I was doing it, rolling my big hips against him and rubbing myself against the firm heel of his hand. My clit felt like it was on fire and every lick of flame held pleasurable sensations that shot through my belly like a spreading heat.
I moved my hips back and forth in a rhythmic motion, wondering what the sight was like to him...a big curvy girl in a polka dot dress pushing her huge ass back and forth to pleasure herself. I could feel my massive bust shaking and jiggling against the tight dress. Surely he didn’t like this did he? No man could possibly be turned on by a big girl with curves like me. But what he was doing under my skirt was undeniable. I threw my head back, my auburn hair trailing down my back. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sensations building up inside me.
‘I want to see you cum, Amy,’ he told me. His voice was deep and hoarse and he sounded excited.
‘Yes,’ I whispered. Then louder, ‘Yes.’ Then as I felt the pleasure in my belly build to a crescendo, I moaned, ‘Yes!’. My nipples felt like iron and the movement of my bra as I rocked back and forth pleased the sensitive towers of flesh. My pussy was slick and almost dripping my arousal. The panties were sodden and Jorn’s hand was covered with my sex juices. My clit throbbed and my pussy muscles fluttered. The crescendo suddenly became an explosion and I cried out, ‘I’m cumming!’
‘That’s it,’ he urged, ‘Cum for me.’
I gripped the bookshelves tightly and came, grinding myself hard against Jorn’s hand as the wave of pleasure inside me crashed on the shore of my delight. My brain sparked ecstatically and I let out a l
ong low moan as my large body gave itself up to pure joy. I shook and trembled with brilliant sensation. Jorn kept his hand pressed against me as I rode out the orgasm.
When it all subsided, I was a panting hot mess. I climbed down off the steps carefully and leaned against the wall trying to regain my composure.
‘That shouldn’t have happened,’ I said breathlessly. What the hell was I thinking? If Mr Jacobs found out, I could lose my job.
‘But it did happen. Didn’t you enjoy it?’
‘That’s beside the point.’
‘You looked amazing like that, pushing yourself back and forth. So sexy.’
‘Yeah, right,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘Like a beached whale.’
‘No, I...’
He stopped as the bookshop door opened and the bell that announced a new customer rang.
‘I have to go,’ I said, grateful for the chance to escape. I hurried along the aisles of shelves and stacks of books to the front of the store.
Mr Jacobs stood by the counter. He put a box of new books down and frowned at me over his glasses as I appeared from the back of the store. ‘Amy, you aren’t at the cash register.’
‘I was just helping a customer in the Fantasy section,’ I said. ‘He wanted a book from the top shelf.’ I realized I hadn’t brought the book down for Jorn. In all the...excitement...I had left it up there.
‘And you were very helpful, thank you,’ Jorn said, coming from the stacks. He held the copy of Raiders Of Gor in his hand, along with couple of other titles in the series. So he must have gone up on the steps himself to get it. I wondered if he had put it up there in the first place, just to get me to go up there so he could see up my dress.
I felt myself blush uncontrollably as memories of what he had done to me in the back room came flooding into my head. I rang up his purchases and took his money while Mr Jacobs went to the stock room to unpack the new books.
I bagged up Jorn’s books and handed them to him. He slid a slip of paper across the counter toward me. Numbers scrawled in blue pen. ‘Call me,’ he said in a low voice.
One Hot Knight Box Set Page 1