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Big Girls & Bad Boys: 8 Scorching Hot BBW Alpha Male Romance Novellas Box Set

Page 20

by D. H. Cameron


  “Come with me, Sweetie. I’m so close,” Margo pleaded. I giggled and nodded letting her know I was right there with her. I hyperventilated as Margo’s eyes fluttered and she panted quickly. Then her nails dug into my leg and I knew she was coming and a moment later, I joined her. We rubbed against each other as we screamed, moaned and clutched at one another. We both enjoyed the wild and wonderful waves of sheer ecstasy. Margo began to laugh even as she looked as if I was causing her great pain. I knew it was anything but, however.

  I couldn’t help but join her and soon we were both laughing and giggling like idiots and finally we gave up. My orgasm rattled around inside and I shivered as it faded. Margo took my head in her hands and looked into my eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine. She was smiling and I smiled back. Words couldn’t sum this up for me. It was too fresh and raw, too intense.

  “So?” Margo asked. I knew what she meant. She wasn’t demanding or insistent. Curious maybe as to what I thought.

  “I don’t know what to say. I can hardly get my head around this. I’ve never done anything like this before...with anyone...ever. It was beautiful,” I said and then kissed Margo. I pulled back after tasting her lips for a moment and smiled at her. I wasn’t sure what I wanted or where this might lead but I knew I wasn’t ready for this end. “Don’t go. I can’t promise you anything but I don’t want you to go. I want to do this more. A lot more,” I told Margo.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I lied. I wasn’t going anywhere no matter what you said. I don’t give up that easily. When I see something I want, I get it and I want you, Emily. I knew when I saw you last night and I’m even more sure know,” Margo told me. That was nearly as satisfying to hear as it was making love to her. But this euphoria wouldn’t last and my past and fears weren’t banished so easily. But for one night, I had a taste of bliss and right at that moment, I wanted more.

  >>O<<

  Or I thought I did. I awoke the next morning with Margo’s naked body pressed to mine. Like the hangover that follows a night of drinking, the fun of the previous night was gone and I was left with the feelings in its aftermath. If this was Margo’s house, I would have crept out of bed and left. But this was my house and I was trapped.

  Oh, the memories of the incredible night hadn’t faded. I wished they had. No, I remembered all too clearly making love to Margo, lesbian love, Sapphic love, girl love. Margo should have known better. I should have known better. I wasn’t ready for something as intense and daring as sex with another woman. I wasn’t ready for the emotions it generated. I just wasn’t ready, period.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Margo said suddenly and roused me from my thoughts.

  “Morning,” I said flatly.

  “You were fantastic last night,” Margo complimented me but I only heard a reminder of how I had let myself lose control.

  “I have to get up and go to work,” I said hoping Margo would take the hint. She didn’t.

  “Call in sick. We can repeat last night, maybe even top it,” Margo suggested.

  “I can’t,” was all I said.

  “Sure you can, sweetie,” she replied.

  “No! I can’t!” I said with an edge I didn’t necessarily intend.

  “Is something the matter?” Margo asked, a hint of concern mixed with surprise. I could have simply told her I had to be at work and brushed off her concerns. She would have left and I could have just forgotten about her and what happened. I didn’t.

  “I’m not a lesbian,” I said suddenly.

  “I never said you were,” Margo countered.

  “I can’t do this. I don’t want to see you again. I had a nice comfortable existence and you come along and tease me until I’m so worked up I don’t know what I’m doing. You took advantage,” I said, more grasping at straws than anything.

  “You seemed pretty in control when you were begging me to eat your pussy,” Margo said and I could clearly see the pain on her face.

  “I’m not what you think I am. You should go,” I said but it sounded much weaker than it did in my head.

  “Are you kidding? Fuck! Fine, I’ll go. Whatever. Sit here in your house and read your fucking books,” Margo said and climbed out of bed. She marched to the door, her clothes still downstairs, but stopped short. “Emily, this is probably my fault. I get that. But don’t you dare accuse me of coercing you. You did what you did willingly and if that makes you uncomfortable, that’s your problem. I guess I was wrong. There’s nothing special about you,” she said and left, slamming the bedroom door behind her, though it didn’t catch.

  I flopped on my back, not sure how to feel. Margo was upset and maybe she had a right. Then I heard her, just barely, and it sounded as if she was crying. The front door slammed. I heard her truck roar to life and the tires squeal as she drove away. I was deaf to it all, however. I refused to let it bother me. I was glad she was gone. I could forget about her and have my life back. As dreary as it was, it was mine. Boring yet comfortable. Not everyone could play the game. Some of us were meant to spectate and I was one of them.

  Inky pushed my door open and jumped up to see if I was OK. I wasn’t. I pet my affectionate kitty as I remembered the previous night. Did I really do that? Did I really sleep with another woman? What had I done? Then Puff joined us, unusually affectionate. She must’ve sensed something was wrong. Probably worried I might not feed her. I pet her anyway.

  I went to work even though I was feeling poorly. I felt somewhat ashamed of what I’d done. Look, sex was a foreign concept to me and sex with a woman even more so. I felt bad for Margo, though I wasn’t really able to admit that. I was still feeling she had taken advantage of me somehow. She must have to get me to do those things. Most of all, I felt vaguely depressed. I’m not sure I felt different than usual but I had something to compare my boring life to and it seemed even more drab than usual.

  “Morning, Emily,” Ted called out when he saw me.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “You feeling better?” he asked and I wondered how he knew what happened but then I remembered how Saturday night had ended.

  “No, not really,” I said. I should have told him I felt great. Now Ted was going to try to talk to me about it. I couldn’t tell him what happened. Even though he was gay, the idea of sleeping with Margo, of losing control like I did, was too humiliating.

  “What’s wrong? I know you were upset. Look, being a virgin isn’t the end of the world,” Ted offered. I looked around but the Library wasn’t open yet and the other employees were elsewhere. Funny he should say that though. I was for all intents and purposes a virgin on Saturday but I wasn’t anymore.

  “That’s not it,” I said abruptly hoping Ted would take the hint. Instead he saw it as an opening to analyze me further.

  “What is it? Is it that woman? Did she make you feel uncomfortable? You were in a gay bar, you know. She probably assumed you were a lesbian. You should be flattered even if you’re not into...,” Ted said and I just burst. I guess I was more upset about it than I was admitting.

  “I slept with her, Ted. OK!” I told him harshly. Ted’s jaw fell open as he stared at me and for once, he was speechless. I turned to go to my office but Ted followed me. I tried to close the door, but Ted was too quick.

  “Do you need to talk?” he asked concerned.

  “No!” I said and pushed the door closed. Ted stood outside my door, looking at me through the window. I sighed and opened the door. He wasn’t going to let it go and if I was being honest, and I wasn’t, I needed to talk about it. Instead, I pretended I was going to talk about it to get Ted off my back. Ted came in and I closed the door. He took a seat but I didn’t. I paced around my office.

  “Tell me,” was all he said. I did. I explained what she said on Saturday and the business card she gave me. I told him how I was intrigued by what she said and how I called Margo. I explained our dinner and the things Margo said about me and my life. I told Ted how it made me feel and finally that we made love. “And...what’s t
he problem?” Ted asked.

  “I’m not a lesbian, Ted!” I told him firmly.

  “So? Sounds like you had a good time. Lesbian is just a label,” he explained.

  “That’s not it, though. She pushed me to do it. She said stuff and sweet talked me. I lost control,” I said. I didn’t think that sounded stupid, but Ted must have.

  “So unless you’re telling me she raped you that sounds like a good time. Sweet talk, good sex, losing control. Yep, normal Saturday night,” Ted told me.

  “You don’t understand,” I said frustrated that I couldn’t explain how I felt. Probably because I didn’t know how I felt or wasn’t able to admit it to myself.

  “Sure I don’t. I’ve never had sex with a man and felt like maybe I did something I didn’t want to, something that was a little scary,” Ted told me with obvious sarcasm. “Let me tell you about my first time. I’d been with a few girls in high school. It felt good but it wasn’t anything miraculous. But I had these feelings I couldn’t deal with. Feelings for other boys. Well, the summer after I graduated I worked as a lifeguard at the lake. There was this older guy, twenty-five, maybe thirty,” Ted told me.

  “Well, he came on to me. Explained to me he thought I was cute. He cornered me in the men’s restroom and...well, let’s just say he had his way with me in one of the stalls. At first, I was terrified. Terrified of having sex, terrified I might be gay and terrified of how much I loved it. But I felt bad later. I felt guilty, dirty and like some kind of pervert. But when fall came around and I went to college, I had a boyfriend quicker than you can say homosexual,” Ted finished.

  “I’m not a lesbian. I don’t have thoughts about women. I don’t have thoughts about men much anymore either, but I used to. I’ve never wondered about women,” I countered. I appreciated his story and the point he was trying to make but I wasn’t buying it. Not yet.

  “You remember, David?” he asked and I told him I did. David was a guy Ted dated about a year before. “David’s like thirty-five. He’s married to a sweet woman. He never really thought about men until he was older. Long story short, his wife encouraged him to do what made him happy after he came out to her. I wasn’t his first, either. He prefers women, but sometimes he needs a man, especially when he’s dressed up like a girl,” Ted told me. I didn’t know that but I wasn’t sure how it applied to me.

  “I’m not into women,” I reminded him.

  “Look, what I’m trying to say is some people don’t figure this out until they are older. Some never figure it out. Some people are straight as an arrow but most are bisexual to a point. How would you know, Emily? You’re a virgin, or were I suppose. And maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re straight as an arrow. Maybe it’s not that Margo is a woman. Maybe it’s just who she is,” Ted told me. I hadn’t considered that. He was right. I wasn’t experienced. I gave up on love a long time ago. It was too hard and too painful most of the time.

  I knew it was at least partly me. I knew I was overweight but it was more. I never tried. I never sought out men. I never tried to appeal to them. I don’t know why but I’d come to terms with it. It’s not like I was the only woman in the history of women who gave up on love, marriage and men. I found a nice comfortable place to exist. Yes, it was boring and unexciting but it was mine.

  “I was scared when she came onto me. I’m still scared, Ted,” I admitted.

  “You don’t think that older man in the bathroom stall was scary? Scary and eye-opening. I still look back on that and it makes me excited. Scary can be good,” Ted said. Margo had said almost the exact same thing.

  “That’s what she told me too,” I said.

  “Let me tell you something. When you’re quote-unquote normal, this stuff is a little scary. But when your buddies slap you on the back after you have sex or when your dad puffs up with pride that his boy is becoming a man, it goes away. But when you’ve heard your whole life that gays are deviant, sick, and an abomination, that’s real fear. When you know your buddies will make fun of you if you’re lucky and beat you up if you’re not or your father will disown you, that’s scary,” Ted said and I was shocked to hear him speak so plainly.

  “I don’t know that woman you slept with but I bet she’s faced the same fears I have. Nobody congratulates you when you fall in love with someone of the same gender. They shun you instead. You’re an outcast. You’re not normal. Scary is good because scary means your living, scary means your following your dreams and desires and scary means you’re finally being who you really are. I bet that woman, Margo, would say the same thing. If you’re gay or lesbian, bisexual or trans you’ve faced a trial by fire to be who you are. It’s scary as hell but it feels so good to finally come to terms with it and just be you,” Ted explained.

  I think I got it. He was right. If I dated a man, got married, had kids, I’d be normal. People would look at me and see me as an upstanding citizen, they would congratulate me and they’d shower me with praise and support. That was easy compared to what Ted, and probably Margo, faced. But I wasn’t a lesbian and I told Ted once more time.

  “So what?” he said with emphasis. “Margo’s not a lesbian. I’m not gay. We’re all human though. Those are labels meant to classify and divide. Some people would argue interracial love is taboo and forbidden. Some people insist on finding someone of their same religion or from the same province of some eastern European country that doesn’t even exist anymore,” he said and I rolled my eyes. That was ridiculous.

  “You think that’s silly but so is what you’re saying. You’re human and so is Margo. She sees something in you that appeals to her. You and most the world insist she’s a lesbian. You sleep with her and now you are too, right?” he asked and I nodded. I saw what he was getting at but I played along. “Who cares? So you’re a lesbian, or bi or whatever. The world wants to define you. Let them, but the definition that really matters is how you define yourself. Maybe, you’re just a girl that finally found someone who finds her attractive, someone that sees the real you hidden under all those frumpy outfits and had the courage to approach you,” Ted said and again, that’s pretty much what Margo told me too.

  “So, maybe I just happen to be attracted to a woman but that doesn’t make me anything. It’s just the way things are,” I said completing Ted’s thought.

  “Exactly, Emily. We can’t always control who we fall for. Sometimes it’s the type of person we think it will be, but just as often it’s not. Maybe you are a lesbian, maybe you’re bisexual or maybe you’re straight but met a particular woman that you’re attracted to. Does it matter? Love is love. It’s precious. I know you just had one night with her and you’re not in love with Margo but how will you know if you don’t give her a chance?” Ted explained.

  It all made sense. Maybe I was a lesbian. But whether I was or not didn’t matter. Margo did things for me that no one had ever done before. She cared. She looked past the drab persona I let the world see, the shy and timid side I had embraced. She took the time to see something more. I wasn’t entirely sure I was the wild bitch she claimed but I think I liked that she said it. Maybe I was.

  Maybe Margo was right. Maybe I did long to be part of the adventure instead of just reading about it. Maybe not. I did know I never felt the way I had with her. However, I was scared out of my wits. Maybe I needed to finally face my fear and embrace it instead of running from it. I was awash in confusion but one thing I did know was I hurt Margo. I was unfair to her. I did what I did because I wanted to and just because I couldn’t handle it didn’t mean I had the right to blame her.

  “I’m not feeling well, Ted,” I said suddenly.

  “What’s the matter,” he asked.

  “I need to go home and take care of some things,” I said. Ted looked concerned for a moment but then he took my meaning.

  “Yeah, you do look a little pale. You should take the day off,” he said and winked at me.

  “I love you, Ted. You’re the best girlfriend a girl could ever wish for,” I said playfully.


  “I take that as a compliment,” he said and hugged me. I felt like a fool. I felt bad for hurting Margo. Ted straightened me out and I was going to make it up to her. I wasn’t sure how, but I had the beginnings of an idea. I was pretty sure it was the right thing to do because it scared the hell out of me.

  >>O<<

  Margo’s phone went to voice mail again. I’d already left three messages but I decided to leave another. “This is Emily. Please call me. I’m sorry about what I said. I just want to talk. Please, Margo?” I said and hung up. I wanted to believe she was out of town or busy but I had the feeling she just didn’t want to talk to me. I’d hoped to talk to her while I was off work supposedly sick, but she didn’t reply. I guess I couldn’t blame her. I’d said some pretty horrible things. I accused her of taking advantage of me, of all but forcing me to have sex with her.

  She didn’t. I probably was guilty of letting my excitement get away with me but if I was being honest, I loved our night together. Whether I enjoyed it because I was into women or because I was lonely and desperate didn’t matter. I enjoyed being with Margo and as I thought about it I wanted to experience that again. I found myself attracted to Margo in ways that went beyond mere sex, however.

  She seemed to enjoy books as much as I did. She was caring and had a subtle sense of humor. Most of all, she liked me in return. That was huge for a girl like me, a girl that didn’t believe anyone could like her in that way. I still didn’t know what she saw in me, besides the wild bitch she claimed lived inside of me, but it felt nice. It felt really nice.

  I waited for several days for a return call but it never came. I called every day and left messages. I probably seemed like a stalker but I really needed to make this right. One way or another, I wanted to tell Margo I was sorry and that I enjoyed our night together. Even if we never were together again, I wanted her to know what she did for me. I wanted her to know that she was right.

 

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