Full Figured 8

by Skyy

  Full Figured 8:

  Carl Weber Presents

  Full Figured 8:

  Carl Weber Presents

  Skyy and Treasure Hernandez

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Full Figured 8:

  Title Page

  A Lover’s Embrace?

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  You Only Live Once

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Copyright Page

  A Lover’s Embrace?

  by Skyy

  Chapter 1

  Hands.

  I could feel hands upon my body. They made their way from the bottom of my feet up my legs stopping at my stomach. The massive hands roamed around my mounds of flesh becoming familiar with my body as if they had explored my body before. They gripped my side pulling me close to them; I could feel the body against me, yet, I could not see who it was. All I knew was the hands were strong, stronger than any hands that had touched me in years, and for once I didn’t care that I was being touched in areas that I usually considered off-limits.

  I woke up from my slumber, body shivering from the intensity of my dream. I hadn’t wanted sex so bad since I went through my initial withdrawal period after my ex, almost five years ago. I needed a release. I got out of my bed, pulled open my dresser drawer and then rustled through the clothes until finding a small black box. I opened the box to find the only girlfriend I had known in years. I pressed the on button and my little silver friend began to vibrate in my hand. I rushed back to my bed; my body was in need of release. I lay on my back pressing my little silver girlfriend against my swollen clit. I pressed the little arrow on the control until achieving my favorite speed and pulsation allowing the vibrations to consume my body. I moved the bullet in a circular motion feeling my own wetness on my hand.

  I closed my eyes and thought about the strong hands. I pressed against my clit harder. I needed more. I needed more; it felt good but I wanted something more intense. I turned over on my stomach pressing my pussy against my mattress. I turned the bullet on full blast holding on to my pillow as I ground my body against my silver girlfriend. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I could feel the hands on me again, grabbing me with an unfamiliar roughness. I pushed my hand underneath my body pushing the bullet as far into me as I could. I ground it with intensity; my body jerked with each strong vibration.

  My orgasm was rising from my toes, creeping all the way through my body. I continued to grind, my body now jerking more than ever. I moaned as the intense orgasm reached the pit of my stomach. This was going to be an epic explosion my body needed more than ever. It was so close. My body began to jerk harder and harder, until the maximum pleasure was upon me. My legs began to tremble, switching in anticipation. I was ready, my body was ready, and it wanted it more than ever. Intensity took over my body causing one giant jerk. I gasped.

  Everything stopped. The vibration was gone. I turned over and looked at the controller; the lights were still on, yet, I had no vibe. Suddenly the cord felt loose. I pulled the cord but the silver bullet remained lodged inside my walls. My mouth dropped open as I stared at the dangling small wires that were once attached to my beloved electronic lover.

  “No, no. No!” I panicked as I attempted to push the wires back in the end of my bullet as if it had simply come unplugged. I frantically scanned the room with my eyes for something that could either fix my bullet or take its place for the final moments in the game. I was out of luck. I wanted to cry as I could feel my orgasm creeping back inside as I stared at the pathetic remains of my now-dead girlfriend. Just like my last real girlfriend, my bullet had left me heated and unfulfilled. I wanted to scream. I threw a small temper tantrum on my bed hitting my hands against my mattress. I thought about using my own fingers but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. I was never good at pleasuring myself. My stomach always seemed to get in the way whenever I tried.

  I let out a deep sigh and got out of my bed and headed down my long walkway toward my studio. The cold concrete floor took away remains of the orgasm I never had.

  I suddenly felt inspired. I grabbed the mound of my sculpting clay, grabbed my knife, and began to let my memory guide my hands. The cold wet clay began to take form as I shaped a torso with a round belly. I formed curves on the sides familiar to the curves I tried to hide with my Spanx daily. I closed my eyes and thought about those hands. I couldn’t get the hands out of my mind. My mind guided my hands as I sculpted the image.

  I looked over at the clock; three hours had passed before I had even known it. I took a step back from my work admiring my new creation. Something struck me as odd. I looked over at two of my other sculptures; the hands were very different. On my others my hands were soft, delicate, slender, and smooth. I glanced back at my new creation. These hands were different. They were strong, larger than normal, and there was nothing delicate about them. I stood there staring at my own body and clay form. These hands were definitely not the hands I was used to over my years of dating. These hands were masculine.

  Chapter 2

  My alarm clock freaked me out. I jumped up; my head pounded from the quick movement. I grabbed the alarm clock pulling it from the wall, throwing it with force until it crashed against my walls. I fell back on my pillow, putting my hand against my head. After my own snooze session I finally mustered the courage to get out of my bed.

  I took a long, hot shower and threw on the first outfit I could find in my newly washed pile of clothes. I brushed my long, thick hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. I applied some edge control to my edges, hoping they would stay in place for at least half the day. I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. I pulled my hair out of the ponytail, grabbed a headband, and put it on my head. I brushed my hair letting it fall down on my shoulders. I shrugged my shoulders; this look was going to have to do for the day.

  I rushed back into my bedroom to grab my cordless phone that was ringing. I knew it had to be one of two people, as no one ever called my home phone. I smiled when I saw the strange number appear on the screen.

  “Kev!” I squealed.

  “What’s up, chick?” My best friend Kevin’s deep baritone voice echoed through the phone. I hadn’t spoken to him in over a month.

  “I should be mad at you but I’m not going to be,” I pouted.

  “Sorry, sweets, you already know the business.”

  My smile covered my face. It had been over a year since I’d seen my best friend who had taken a job as a travel photographer with the Travel Channel. Kevin and I had been best friends since the sixth grade. While I focused on my art he focused on his, photography, becoming an amazing photographer. He took his dream job shooting for the Travel Channel, which kept him out on assignments all over the world. Over the years he had become more of a big brother to me than a friend.

  “It would be nice if my best friend could stop traveling the globe long enough to come and see his best friend, especi
ally with my opening coming up.”

  “I am trying, Rayne. I am hoping I don’t have to be in Australia then. I’m just waiting to hear from my boss.”

  “Well you need to tell your boss—”

  Before I could finish Kevin cut me off. “I need to tell my boss that my friend doesn’t care about my job if it comes in between her exhibits.”

  I sat silent as he attempted to mock me with a high-pitched voice. I walked into my studio and paused. There stood my creation from the night before. The big hands perplexed me. What made me create them or even dream about them.

  “Kevin, I had the strangest dream last night.” I continued to study the hands I created in clay.

  “Uh-oh, you been eating crazy food before going to sleep again?” Kevin laughed.

  His smart remark took my attention off of the sculpted hands. “No, but it was still odd.”

  “Rayne, babes, I gotta run. Can we pick this up at a later time?”

  “Only if you promise to really try to come to my opening.” I held the phone in anticipation of the response. I heard Kevin let out a loud moan.

  “I promise I will do all that I can to make it to your opening. I’ll call you later.”

  The phone hung up before I could give him a harder time. I looked at the clock sitting on my art table. I would have to think of the mysterious hands at a later time. I knew I couldn’t be late for work again, or my boss would also be up my ass. I grabbed a Pop-Tart and an individual-size bottle of orange juice and headed out the door.

  I walked into my office with my usual attitude, unhappy with the parking spot I landed about a mile away from the building. The large call center was buzzing as usual. I walked past the different sections from customer service to billing until making my way to the back of the building where my department resided.

  “What’s up, Jack?” I greeted one of my coworkers as he walked past me.

  “Sup, Rayne? Having a good day so far?” Jack gave me a high five as he walked backward to try to talk to me.

  “It could be better.” I continued to walk as Jack disappeared.

  I did my usual and headed over to my friend’s desk. I sat in the empty chair as Camille finished on a call with the customer. I wanted to laugh at the fake, proper accent she was using with the customer.

  “Thank you for calling and have a lovely day.” Camille smiled as the customer finally hung up. She pulled her headset off and threw it on her desk.

  “Wuz up, bitch?” She leaned back on her desk as she greeted me in her normal voice.

  “Nothing much.” I picked up a magazine off of her desk. “How is the day going?”

  Camille rolled her eyes. “Girl, bullshit is usual. What you been up to this morning? From the looks of that outfit you must have spent the whole night working again.”

  “Something like that.”

  We both turned around as we noticed a line of people coming from the training room. We watched as the new hires started to look around for their new desks.

  “Shit I forgot they start today.” Camille rolled her eyes again. “I know they bet not ask me nothing today. I am not in the mood.”

  Just then one of the new hires walked over to us. “Hi, um ...” she stuttered.

  I looked at the desk and noticed the new nametag that was pinned on the wall. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said as I stood up, pushing the chair back to her new desk. “I’m just sitting here in your seat.”

  “It’s okay.” The girl smiled. She was a cute, brown-skinned natural female. Her twist out was better than many that I’d seen around the office. It was obvious she had been natural for quite some time.

  “My name is Rayne and this is your neighbor, Camille. She’s one of the best so any questions make sure to ask her.” I smiled. I knew Camille wanted to slap me for volunteering her services. I winked as Camille threw her middle finger up at me as I walked away.

  I made my way over to my cubicle bay area. I greeted my other coworkers as they sat back watching the new hires settling into their desks. Janice and Rosalyn both couldn’t take their eyes off the far side of our section. They were two of the older workers who had been there for years and they made sure everyone knew it.

  “Hi, Rayne; it’s new hire day.” It had only taken me about a month to get use to Rosalyn’s thick Spanish accent. She smiled at me as she peeled an orange.

  “I guess.” I put my bag on my desk and sat down in my chair. “So who do we have over here?” I looked at the nametag on the desk next to mine. “Loyal Santos; are we getting a new Spanish rep?”

  The frown on Rosalyn’s face let me know the thought of a new Spanish agent didn’t sit well with her.

  “I didn’t hear we were getting a new one,” Janice chimed in as she pulled her reading glasses off.

  “What kind of name is Loyal?” I frowned as I sat in my seat.

  Between Janice and Rosalyn I knew anything and everything that happened in our call center. They were like the two gossiping women who never admitted to actually gossiping. I had grown used to them over the last year of being in my department. If nothing else they kept me laughing, and kept the normal drama of call centers away from our area. I never quite understood how they knew everything, yet never were seen talking to anyone outside of our little area. They both also knew every way to work the system. They schooled to programs like FMLA, which had become a godsend since I started working on my piece for my exhibit.

  “Well we don’t need another Spanish agent; I don’t get that many calls as is,” Rosalyn added just as her phone began to ring. Instantly she was speaking Spanish to the caller.

  “Loyal,” Janice grunted. “You know I never trust people with names like that. You know, Loyal, Cherish, Angel, Patience, Precious; usually folks with those names are polar opposites of whatever their name actually means. Angels be more like Devils.”

  We all laughed.

  I turned my computer on and prepared to start the day. While my computer started up, I headed over to the coffeemaker to find it empty as usual. I couldn’t understand why so many people drank the coffee but never thought to start a new batch when they drank the last. I opened the door only to see a canister of Folgers almost completely empty. I walked back over to my desk and opened my bottom drawer where I kept all of my special goodies. I pulled out a bag of vanilla Starbucks and headed back to the coffeemaker. Within moments the aroma filled the air causing some of the main coffee drinkers’ heads to pop up from their cubicles.

  “That smells amazing,” an unfamiliar male voice said behind me.

  I turned around to find an unfamiliar face to match the voice. He smiled. He was very polished, more than most of the men who worked in my department. His head was bald and very smooth. There wasn’t a trace of a hair follicle to be found on his head. He had a beard that was also lined perfectly with just enough hair to create the beard, nothing hanging down off of his face. His skin was a peculiar shade of brown, almost the same as a coffee with cream in it.

  “Would you like some?” I held a cup out to him.

  “Really? Thank you that would be wonderful. I’ll come and get it after I put my things down at my desk.” He smiled. He had a great smile to match the rest of his appearance.

  I let the coffee finish percolating, poured me a cup, and headed back to my desk. I stopped in my tracks when I saw the same guy settling into the desk connected to mine. I glanced at the look on Janice’s face. She was smiling harder than I had ever seen before. I noticed two of the other older women in my section also staring at the new eye candy. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. This was going to be very interesting.

  “Rayne, did you meet Loyal?” Janice extended her hand to present him.

  “We met briefly at the coffeemaker.” He smiled at me again.

  I didn’t know why I suddenly felt uneasy. I sat down at my desk and turned around to my computer.

  I stared at the computer screen as Janice and Rosalyn got to know our new associate. It didn’t take long to find
out he was forty-two, had one son, recently moved back to Memphis from living in St. Louis for the last few years and, of course, was single. I couldn’t help but laugh at the not-so-subtle flirting from Janice, who used her age as her excuse to say whatever she wanted to say.

  I pulled my art pad and pencil set out. The images from the night before were still etched in my brain. I began to sketch the sculpture I started working on the night before. I was still fixated on the hands. I didn’t know why I wanted to get them right. Before I knew it my break time finally had come.

  “And who is this?”

  I turned around when I heard Mrs. Loretta’s raspy voice headed in our direction. The four foot eight inch woman sashayed over to Janice’s desk putting her skinny arm on Janice’s shoulder.

  “Hello, I’m Loyal.”

  I shook my head as he flashed his smile to the wrong person. Ms. Loretta perked up instantly.

  “Loyal, huh?” Ms. Loretta looked him up and down. “You sure are a cutie pie.”

  “Down, Loretta.” Janice laughed.

  “How old are you, chile?” Ms. Loretta pushed her reading glasses up on her nose.

  “I’m forty-two.”

  Loretta waved him off with her hand. “Oh you just a baby.”

  “I wouldn’t say all that.” He smiled again.

  “Chile, please, what can I do with a forty-year-old?” Ms. Loretta shook her head.

  “Woman, who said he wanted you to do anything, hell even think anything?” Janice joked back. “You better shut up before I tell your husband.”

  Ms. Loretta frowned at Janice. They all laughed. He had a distinctive laugh that echoed in our little area.

  “Please ain’t nothing wrong with looking.” Ms. Loretta playfully put her hand on Loyal’s left bicep. “Oh, Lord, and he got muscles, too. Let me get away from this man before I end up divorced and in HR. Rayne, girl, did you meet Loyal?”