I stride naked to the countertop where I left the plan book and flip it open to today’s date. Manicure, facial—who needs one when you’ve got the natural glow that I’ve just achieved, I mean, come on—and ah, there it is. NFL players interview for five o’clock at the Rainbow Room.
Wait, what?
Oh man. Football players. At one of the best restaurants in town. With the classiest, most high-profile bar in the entire town. I could sing, I really could, but unfortunately, a good voice does not come with these glorious curves. Ah, who cares?
I bounce past the mirror again, happy as a clam.
Five o’clock. Marissa, you naughty girl. Well, not the original Marissa. I enter the players’ names into an Internet search engine and their photos leave me almost breathless. These are the types of hunks I would never even allow to enter my fantasies, they’re so hot. I love those big, muscly types with bodies like well-carved trucks and faces like Alain Delon, that French actor who was all boyishly handsome even into his late fifties.
Come to mama.
Now, ordinarily, I wouldn’t even entertain any thoughts about men like this, but hello, I look like the high priestess of everything feminine.
If only Rob could see me now. He’d eat his damn words in a minute, and he would be so bowled over by what I look like he’d forget his name, address, and telephone number.
And so what if the two NFL players look like him a little bit? I’m not shy, I’ll admit it—a little revenge flirting might be just the thing to kick up my spirits. And what if I wake up tomorrow and this Marissa’s gone, you know? I deserve this, more than anyone else I know. In case you forgot, there was a bottle with the Reaper in it with my name on the label.
Five o’clock. Plenty of time to get prepped.
First, I go shopping. Marissa tells me all the stores she goes to; I ask mainly because I like to live vicariously through her, but this time, it actually helps because now I know where to go. Thank goodness I live around the block from one of those boutiques, because all I can fit over my new body is this huge oversized T-shirt that I like to hide in—I mean wear because it’s so cozy.
The salesladies take one look at me and assume that I’m doing what seems to be Marissa’s typical walk of shame. They flutter around me like those birds in Disney’s Cinderella, until I’m fully clothed from head to toe. I look hot. Incredible, even. I’ve got this red bodycon dress on that emphasizes that full, full hourglass I’ve got going, and my cleavage is eye-catching. I can’t stop turning in front of the mirror, black stiletto heels shaping my calves into works of art.
As I leave the store, swinging the bag with some extra things in it for good measure, I can feel all eyes on me. Marissa, even when she was Marissa, never walked like this. She was grounded and self-assured, whereas I feel like I’m floating on air, making a statement with every step that I take. I purse my lips at passerby, and heads are swiveling. I thought that only happened in the movies. Not so, not so. Va-va-va-voom, baby.
I get my hair styled in Marissa’s favorite salon, and take a long walk around some of the more high profile areas of the city. I can’t get enough of the attention. Men in suits, the type of men who date those reedy-looking girls but everyone knows secretly desire the bigger ladies, are making fools of themselves, slaving over me with their eyes. Tiny Japanese men breathe me in, and a bunch of college guys almost literally have to wipe up some of their drool off of their chins. I feel as if every pore in my body is screaming, “Look at me now, boys!” I am a walking sex bomb.
Now, I’m not going to lie to you, I’m not a big sports fan. I did my research before I left the house, and I can think of one or two questions I can ask the two NFL players at the bar, but what I’m really hoping for is that one of them will ask me out to dinner at the restaurant. With all the attention I’ve gotten today, it doesn’t seem to be too far of a stretch to picture that.
I’m sitting at the bar. I was hoping for one of those movie moments where the bar is crowded with people and then the hot girl parts it like it’s the Red Sea and approaches the bartender, who instantly grants her her drink wish, but the fact of the matter is that this is a class-A bar, and there are no crowds. I guess I’ll just have to try out that fantasy tomorrow. Agh, there are just so many things I haven’t done yet!
The two football players enter the restaurant, and I can’t believe that nobody is squealing. The hostess walks them over to the bar, they’re that famous, and when they see me, their eyes light up. Now, nobody ever credited athletes for their brains, but this pair is very charming. Turns out they’re both college-educated and have been lifelong buddies. This is fantastic. Whenever they’re quiet, I suddenly find myself talking about all the research I’ve done as an engineer—I pass it off as a change of career—and they’re hanging on my every word as if I’m, oh wow, as if I’m Marissa.
Huh. So this is what it feels like to be gorgeous. I’m not going to lie, it feels pretty darn great.
They both ask me to join them for dinner, which is an unexpected twist. During the meal, the blonde stares at my mouth as I eat, as if he’s picturing it around his cock or something. The brunette keeps sliding closer and closer, and I tell myself it’s because he can’t wait to get snuggly with all this satin skin. From the way he keeps glancing down at my cleavage, I would say that that guess isn’t far off at all.
I am everything and everywhere. I have one hand on the blonde’s wrist, stroking the fine hair there saucily with my fingers, and I’m sliding one of my heeled feet up the calf of the brunette. Who is this woman? I could have never thought that this is who I would be. Is she kind of slutty? Now what kind of talk is that? Like I said before, I deserve this, and amazingly, both guys look clued in on what‘s happening and they don’t seem to mind. That mind-blowing fact is further evidenced when the brunette, who has these cocoa-brown eyes and a dimple in his cheek that makes me want to lick him, asks if the blonde and I would like to go to his loft for a nightcap.
Claire wouldn’t. But Claire in Marissa’s body sails outside of herself and watches the two footballers stare at her ass as she makes her way out of the restaurant.
Time seems to blur. I don’t even notice how we got to that loft, but here we are. The brunette is playing soft jazz, and the blonde is pouring me some champagne as I stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the breathtaking lights of the city spread out before me. God, is this really happening to me?
“To this meeting,” the blonde tells me, clinking his champagne flute to mine, and that’s when I notice that his eyes are blue, like Rob’s. I shake the little negative thought from my brain and drain the champagne. It fills me with this odd peaceful feeling, but it’s also like my stomach has gone out from my body for a little vacation. It’s strange, but as someone begins to rub my shoulders through the straps of my dress, I choose not to focus on it.
I turn around and lock eyes with the blonde. We don’t wait, because what is the use of words anymore, really? We all know we came here to play. Because I haven’t quite settled on the fact that I am in Marissa’s body right now, I almost can’t believe that this man is kissing me. I mean, he’s too gorgeous to even be real, and as his tongue probes my mouth and his hands roam over my ass, I can feel his erection against my leg and I cannot believe that it is me, little old me, who has caused that. I feel like I’ve died and gone back to high school as a curvy girl.
Fine, so you figured out my approximation of heaven. So sue me.
The air fills with the smacking and sucking sounds of our mouths, and that’s when I feel someone gently sliding the zipper of my dress down my back. I tilt my head back and it’s the brunette, his pupils so large and dark now that I can’t distinguish them from the brown of his eyes. He’s slipped his hands inside my dress and is touching me, first on my hips, then up my sides, and now he’s got his hands on my tits and he’s slipping the dress of my shoulders.
Hot mama.
What happened after that, I mean, I might as well spare y
ou the details.
Oh, who am I kidding?
There were tongues everywhere. The brunette was painting my mouth and tits like they were the Sistine Chapel and he was Michelangelo. The brunette had his lips to my asscrack and was licking me where the sun clearly don’t ever shine. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I’ve heard about anal orgasms, but I had no idea they even existed before I met that pro footballer and his equally professional tongue. I can just imagine what that looked like, his little pink tongue tucking in around my little pink asshole.
They never even asked me to suck their cocks, like the one other guy I’ve ever been with did. Instead, they asked me what I wanted them to do, and I told them to suck each other, which they did with an incredible alacrity. I guess we all have secrets. Mine is that I’m a skinny girl caught in a gorgeous woman’s body, and there is that they’ve been hot for each other for a long time now. You should have seen them go at it. I didn’t know that two people could bend like that. They lay down, end to end, and deep-throated each other in tandem for all they were worth. Those smart boys, they built themselves up almost to the breaking point before turning to me like hungry little beasts.
I got on top of the blonde while the brunette watched. I buried his face into my tits, smothering him and not caring if he suffocated. I mean, what a way to go, right? When I finally lifted his face from my chest, he looked like a boy on Christmas Eve who got to unwrap the biggest present under the tree. When I finally took his cock inside of me, I could hear the other one panting as he watched. It was unbelievable, that now I could roll my hips as I rocked him inside of me, that I could slap him in the face with my breasts, and that he quickly grew so excited that he could barely keep me on top of him on the couch.
We were bucking, his balls were slapping against me, and he had squeezed his eyes shut and was murmuring something under his breath. It was seriously distracting me, so I got off his penis, feeling it slide out from beneath me, wet with my fluids, and put my pussy right on his mouth. He got to work straight away, not even disappointed, and I heard his buddy groan out loud from where he was watching us. I guess he really liked what he saw, because I got hit in the back with his cum a few minutes later when he walked over to finish near us.
Blondie was sucking on my clit as if his life depended on it, and pretty soon, the tremors had overtaken me. I clamped my full thighs around his head as I gushed into his mouth, squeezing my tits so hard it almost hurt. When I was done, I was light-headed, it was so good. I flopped down on the couch next to him, gasping with the exertion.
“Nice work,” I told him, patting his naked thigh.
“Thanks, you were great, too, Claire,” he answered.
“Well, aren’t you just—what did you just call me?”
I’m sailing back into my body, and everything is rushing, like those poorly-filmed telenovelas where you can tell it’s all live action. I don’t want to, but I turn around and look at the blond NFL pro.
It’s Rob.
“It’s good now that you’ve got all these great curves,” he says, his voice seeming to float out above my head, and he moves so he’s framing me with his arms on the couch. “Never thought I’d fuck you, Claire.”
What the HELL is happening?
And that’s when I hear it, all around me. Claire. Claire. Claire. And it’s getting louder and louder, and everything around me is growing dimmer. The men’s faces are morphing, oozing and stretching in front of me like taffy candy, and suddenly, I’ve got this horrendous headache and my mouth tastes all funny and gritty.
“Claire.”
No.
“Claire, stay with me. The doctors are with you now.”
No, not you. I AM you.
“Go away,” I mumble, and my tongue is thick.
“She’s back!” I hear Marissa’s voice cry out happily. “Damn woman, I thought we lost you,” she whispers to me, like it’s a secret.
I close my eyes again, unwilling to accept that there’s no tomorrow. I try to block out her voice, but it’s cutting through my every will to drop through a hole and die right here, right now.
There are no footballers. No leopard thongs. No red dresses and black stiletto heels.
There’s just my gorgeous, curvy friend, and I’ll be damned if she hasn’t turned out to be a keeper.
THE END
Threesome Desires
Trey Robson was standing looking down from his 10th floor office onto the busy street below. This was one of his favorite places and it always brought good memories for him. He loved to look out from here and since his room was situated in the corner it gave him a magnificent view of the business district from three sides. In fact he had chosen the office because of the view it offered. The glass from the floor to the ceiling gave him an unrestricted view and he loved to see the dying rays of the setting sun filtering in leaving a glowing warmth in the room.
He was happy with his life; he was at a place he had planned to be and he knew where he wanted to go. His mid sized business had given good returns to the investors and now he had targeted a new merger, which if it came through would take him into the big league. But his thoughts stopped there, because getting small deals is one thing but getting into the big league was another story altogether. It had been months since he had been working on this merger and a lot was at stake on this deal. He just didn’t want to lose this chance, he couldn’t afford to. In fact unknown to anyone else he had taken a huge loan from a disreputable source and he was already feeling the heat from them regarding returning the money. He had to get the deal done, at any cost!
Tomorrow a lot depended on the negotiating and convincing part of his company’s legal team headed by Sophia. The thought of Sophia and the fact that he couldn’t tell her everything about the loan made him a bit sad. He liked to share everything with his legal head and wife. But he knew if Sophia came to know about the risk he had taken, she would be furious. A lot depended on her and her skills; Trey wondered how she would use them.
Whenever Trey thought of Sophia it filled him with a warm rush, it had been around ten years now and it amazed Trey how her thought still stirred something deep within him.
He had met Sophia when he was first interning in a law firm fresh out of college and though ideally he didn’t believe in love at first sight, he was bewitched by her. Trey had studied law only at his father’s insistence, his passion laid elsewhere. He started off his career as a lawyer; he simply bided his time there until he found the right opportunity to start his business in information technology. Once he had done that, there was really no looking back. He had taken a great risk, but then Trey always liked taking risks.
He still remembered the first day that he had gone to the law firm and as he waited in the reception, his eyes fell on a beautiful woman, tall with auburn hair cascading down her shoulders to reach just below her breasts. And though it was extremely unseemly, Trey could not take his eyes off her breasts. They were full and heavy, but most importantly they were womanly. The curves around her waist reached down to a fuller rump. Sophia had always been a woman and that is what attracted Trey most about her. Trey never understood the fascination for waif like figures, the reason why he couldn’t stand models. He liked his women to be ripe, to be ‘clutch -able’ as he liked to call it. Most of the women he had dated before had always been slightly older to him, because he felt age added a certain lusciousness to women but Sophia was slightly younger to him yet she was the most womanly woman he had ever met.
Unlike Trey, Sophia came from a family where she was the first one to go to college and though she didn’t go to an Ivy League she knew how to find her way up. She was hardworking, relentless and ruthless and didn’t allow anything to stand in her way. While her college mates were busy dating and partying she used to be cooped up in her room studying. Not that she had any dearth of suitors, there were at least three guys from her college who made it amply clear that they liked her, but she wouldn’t have any. She didn’t want to jeopard
ize a chance to make it big for any reason and least of all for some frat guys.
However there was one other reason too, she also was not attracted to them enough. She didn’t like college boys, she preferred big, burly older men; their manly strength was something she found herself drawn towards. But most of all she liked success, she liked power, it turned her on, the reason why she started liking Trey in the first place.
When they first met, Trey didn’t make much of an impression on her, he was not bad in any way, he was tall and very handsome, he didn’t have a toned body but it was naturally lean. In fact most of the office girls were swooning over him already, but he seemed to have eyes only for Sophia. She avoided him a bit in the earlier days but as she came to know him, his drive, his intellect, his ambition she started spending more time with him.
At that time, Sophia was in her mid-twenties and in a relationship with one of the partners in the firm; he was older to her by almost 20 years and was very much married. But Sophia had never wanted to be the unknown mistress; it soon led to her breaking up with him. Trey seemed to have been waiting for this opportunity and was exactly where Sophia wanted him to be. They were soon deeply in love and in less than a year after that Sophia joined another firm while Trey started his own business.
****
Trey was a robust man with a more than average sexual appetite and Sophia was able to match him perfectly. They complemented each other and found each other’s taste to be surprisingly similar too. It is very uncommon to see a marriage where both the partners are open to experimenting and even comfortable with the idea of allowing a third partner. It was actually Trey’s idea. Trey got immense satisfaction from seeing his wife getting exploited. He liked to see Sophia in her most vulnerable state and at the mercy of another man who had no emotional feelings for her. The possibility of her getting abused and mistreated where she had no power to say no turned him on immensely.
ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) Page 91