Worlds of BBW Erotic Romance - Box Set (31 page)

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Authors: Jennie Primrose,Celia Demure

BOOK: Worlds of BBW Erotic Romance - Box Set
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Jessam glanced down at the slender man in her arms again, and Heather thought she saw something in that gaze… tenderness… and something else.

“It’s not just his sacrifices or history you’re impressed by, is it, sister?” Heather asked. “You have a thing for him, eh? You wanting to do a little Bonding of your own?”

Jessam shrugged. “That’s completely irrelevant.”

Heather shook her head. “Hey, more power to you, dewd. I just don’t get it. I guess he’s… pretty… in his own way, but compared to Gearon? He’s kind of a skinny Minnie. And in the manhood area he’s a bit lacking, hmm?”

Jessam actually blushed. Or perhaps it was just a reaction from her recent strain? “That matters nothing to me,
my
Lady!”
she snarled. “Do you truly think I valued Gearon for his physical attributes? In truth, I would have found that brutish, hard form of his repellant if not for his noble and idealistic nature. I loved his mind and soul only. But that is the past…”

Yeah,
Heather thought, I bet you NEVER enjoyed that hard, brutish body of his, huh babe? Sour grapes, anyone? But now I have that hard body AND his mind and soul… The whole package. Ooooh and what a package he has!

As if sensing her thoughts, Gearon
slid behind her, squeezing her arm, and she felt those rugged muscles of his form a supportive, loving wall against her back.

“But what will YOU do?” Jessam asked her.

“I’m not sure,” Heather admitted. “I hadn’t thought beyond defeating Grommalacht, really.”

“We could remain for some time and perhaps aid in the efforts of the humans to recover from the invasion, yes?” Gearon suggested.

Heather shook her head, surprising herself with her own decisiveness. “No, my Lord. There’d be too many questions. Maybe they’d want to probe us or something. I don’t know if they’re going to be in much of a mood to welcome ANY aliens when they realize what our Enpathian friends did to them.”

Gearon kissed her neck tenderly and caressed her hair. “So,” he said, “perhaps we can take a small voyage somewhere by ourselves, yes? If my Lady wishes it.”

“Oh, I wish it, hunny,” Heather purred, leaning back to offer her lips to him.

His lips closed on hers hungrily, his tongue hot and writhing in her mouth…

We need to get back to the ship, pronto
, she thought.

The Bonding ritual may be over, but the honeymoon’s just starting…

 

THE END

The BBW, the Punk and the Nerd

By Celia Demure

 

The
Boglesville bus station waiting room was an island of sterile yellow fluorescent light in a sea of cold darkness.  The town’s main street was just outside, through the big windows which faced the bench upon which Alyssin sat. It was very dark outside; there were no cars to be seen, just one faint, flickering streetlight and the angry howl of the February wind.

Alyssin was alone, and cold … and feeling colder by the minute, as her hopes dimmed.

Vinnie,
she thought.
Please get here.

Just then, a
twinge of pain shot through the right side of her abdomen. She cringed and massaged herself there, barely recognizing the pain for a moment.

Oh,
she thought,
it’s just THAT.

It was half-way through her cycle, or just about, right? She often had ovulation pains then. Usually, they went away after a few minutes.

It meant she’d have to be really careful about getting pregnant right now. But Vinnie always wore a condom, said he didn’t want any fucking kids …

Vinnie,
she thought, her mind returning to him.
Where are you? Are you still coming to get me?

Hours ago, at dusk, a
s the bus had approached the town, she’d been
soooo
excited, her heart pounding …

Surely Vinnie would be there
, she’d thought, waiting for her? His strong, warm arms around her, his rough little kisses on her neck to make her tingle all over, his cute little goatee scratching the soft skin of her cheek … They would hop into his car, maybe stop for a bite to eat before heading to his apartment a few towns over, then make long and passionate love to make up for lost time … Hold each other and keep each other warm all night.

But Vinnie hadn’t been waiting
for her.

So s
he’d texted him … and there’d been no response.

She knew he was pretty busy sometimes, that he might have
been called into work at the shop … So she’d waited another hour, trying to get comfortable on the bench.

It was a
Sunday night, the station hadn’t been busy, and few people had given her a second glance. So she’d sat there patiently: a heavyset young woman in her early twenties, wrapped in a worn gray ski jacket and brown woolen scarf, faded jeans and old hiking boots. The only bit of color was her thick auburn hair, peeking out from under the baby blue ski cap she wore.

An hour passed … She
’d sent another text.

V
IN – LUV U BABE – STILL W8TN 4 U ?

Minutes passed … no response.

She could never push it with Vinnie. If she called or texted too much, he would get angry. He would scream and call her a needy bitch.

That’s what le
ad to … when things had gotten bad before. He hadn’t come home the one night, she’d texted him a lot, called him, went to his work looking for him, to his mom’s--and he wasn’t there.

When he did finally come home, he’d been so mad he’d whacked her across the face three times, and broken one of her teeth. That’s when she’
d gone to Michigan to live with her mom, where she’d been the last three months.

She’d bee
n stupid, though, she finally realized. So needy, so annoying, throwing away everything she had with Vinnie over one incident of typical male temper.

But he’d agreed to take her back.

She had last spoken to him a week ago, when he’d told her he was happy about her coming back to town, and that he would pick her up at the bus station … She hadn’t checked up with him since because she didn’t want to bug him too much.

Another hour passed.

Now, it was getting really late. Very dark, and very cold. So cold, despite her heavy jacket and sweatshirt. The bus station was now empty, except for her.

She didn’t have money for a cab, or a motel, or anything. She needed Vinnie. She needed to call … But she was afraid.

Putting off the call for a moment, she rubbed her lips. The corners of her mouth hurt, and her lips felt dry and burned.

Alyssin
pulled her little pocket mirror from her purse and looked at her face. Her full, plump lips were her best feature, she’d been told—one of her high school teachers had once told her she had the “bee stung look,” which she’d always found amusing. But they were badly chapped now, and her skin cracked and red at the corners of her mouth. She got her strawberry Chapstick from her purse and smeared some on, soothing the irritation a little.

Before she put the mirror away, she took a long look at herself. Doubt was eating at her insides, twisting her stomach in cold pain (and part of that was hunger—since she hadn’t eaten
any dinner).

Was she a fool to think that Vinnie, or any guy, would actually want her? Her face was heavily freckled … Her mom had told her she
’d fussed too much about having sunscreen put on her face as a kid, so her mom had given up, and now, as an adult, her complexion was “ruined.” Her nose was too big, and also freckled, and you could see the large pores in the skin. Her eyes were simply brown and plain.

And her cheeks were red, and chubby. SHE was chubby. Over two hundred pounds … How much more, she didn’t know. The last few months, depressed and putting up with her alcoholic mom, she’d been eating a lot more
. Giant bags of chips at home—her mom always had those around—and then, working part-time at the burger place in Michigan, she’d had all the free, fried food she could handle.

Vinnie would certainly notice the weight gain. He’d say something nasty. That was probably good, though—she needed to keep in better shape for her man. Maybe she’d start a diet …

She didn’t care what Vinnie said; she just wanted him here, now. Finally, cold and making herself sick from all the waiting, she decided she HAD to call him.

The phone rang, and rang. Ten times, no answer.

It went to voicemail: “Yo, leave a message.”

Vinnie
hated
it when she left messages. So she hung up.

Ten minutes later, shaking a little, her mouth dry from anxiety, she called again.

The phone rang once, twice … five times …

“Who’s this?” asked an angry female voice.

“Uhh …” Alyssin choked, her tongue feeling numb.

“Girl, put down my phone!” came a male voice in the background.

Vinnie.

“The phone says ‘Alyssin,
’” said the female voice, muffled, as if she was talking to him. “That’s the fat bitch?”

“Yeah, honey, my ex. I told you, she won’t leave me alone, she’s psycho.”

“You want me to get rid of her?” asked the female.

“Sure,” Vinnie said in the background. “Umm … OK.”

Alyssin let out a choked sob.

She moved the phone away from her ear, not really hearing as the woman’s voice shouted
“LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU STUPID CU--”

She hung up
, dropped the phone in her lap. Her chest was tight and burned, and she breathed in quick, shallow breaths as her eyes pooled with hot tears, quickly cooling on her cheeks.

At that moment, she heard voices approaching. Two voices, males, at first unintelligible, and then …

“I told you, dear friend. Bus station skanks. We can’t be picky this late, but we’re going to be plowing some female’s eager pudenda tonight,” said one voice.

“But Jonnie, dude, there’s no one here,” came the other guy’s voice.  “
I don’t even think the busses are running this late. Can’t we just go to the diner or some---“


Whoa, comrade. What do I see here?”

They emerged from
around the corner, exiting the hallway behind her and to her right. Startled, she jerked her head to look at them.

One was a tall
dude wearing a long, black duster-type trenchcoat. He had a spiderweb-design neck tattoo that went up to his jaw on the right side, and lip and nose rings, and a satanic-looking little goatee and mustache. He was fairly young—maybe later twenties?—but had a slight receding hairline, his slicked-backed hair coming to a widow’s peak in front like an old-skool vampire  He looked lean and mean, with feral, ice-blue eyes that coolly assessed her, and a dangerous little smirk.

He reminded her of Vinnie, except … edgier. Not as handsome, no, but he had a look like he could stare through
you, see all your secrets and desires and  … just OWN you.

She’d never been one of the “cool kids,” and she wasn’t really sure what subculture this guy belonged to. Goth, punk, something … else? Punk seemed more appropriate. At any rate, there was something unique and powerful about his presence, those eyes transfixing her …

Even if she hadn’t been cold, she would have shivered. His eyes had something crude and powerful and alluring … pure male hunting animal. She couldn’t remember getting a look that intense from a guy before.

Sure, when you were over 200 pounds, the looks and smiles you got from guys—when you did get them--were mostly predatory. A lot of guys didn’t look
at all … But the ones who did, wanted your ass.

“I like what you got, big girl, and I can give you what you need,” they seemed to be thinking.

And sometimes … on a terribly, horribly cold and lonely night like this … Yeah, they might have something she needed. Just a little something: warmth, attention and male … affection.

But this one … He wasn’t
offering
her something.

H
is stare told her he knew he already HAD her.

That was new. Frightening … But
exciting.

Her tears had stopped flowing, and she wiped her eyes on the sleeve
of her jacket, tried to smile.

Vinnie’s face, which had been achingly dominating her thoughts, now faded … she could only see this new stranger’s features.

“Dude, what are you … Oh, hi,” said the second guy, giving her a little wave.

He was skinny, almost lost in the oversized anorak jacket he wore, the fur-lined hood hanging down behind him. He had a baby face that his close-shaved head and steel-framed glasses did nothing to offset. He was smiling shyly at her, lo
oking kind of nervous, standing besides the OTHER one, the intense one, who seemed to be his friend.

He was kinda cute. Under other circumstances, she would have paid him more attention …

But the intense one, the edgy punkish one, that
stare

He licked his lips now, showing off his tongue stud. “I never expected to find something so lovely
here. Such a surprise.”

“She looks like she’s been crying …” the baby-faced nerdy one commented.

Intense punk one held up a hand to “shush” him. 

“And what name might we have the pleasure of calling you?” the intense one asked her.

“Al … Alyssin …” she stammered.

He bowed slightly and
touched his palm to his chest. “Madam, I am Jonnie, and this is Matthew, my friend and  … pupil.” His mouth turned up at the corner as he said this last bit … As if it was something ironic, or an inside joke?

“I’m Matt,” said the nerdy guy. He whispered to the intense one, Jonnie …“Like, dude … Only my mom
and dad call me ‘Matthew.’”

Jonnie extended his hand to her. “This is
a harsh night to be alone, especially for a pretty and vulnerable young lady. Perhaps we could extend you some hospitality?”

“I’m … kinda hungry,” she told him.

“We could hit the diner?” Matt suggested.

 

#

 

The diner was lit by the same kind of sickly, pale fluorescent light as the bus station. The three of them were the only patrons at this late hour, the tired waitress obviously annoyed to be waiting on three young people who really didn’t look like the type to be heavy tippers.

Alyssin devoured her plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and home fries. She’d been SO hungry … Still, she stopped a few times to self-consciously dab her napkin at her mouth, and brush her thick, long auburn hair away from her face.

To her right, Jonnie was eating a cheeseburger … But he watched her as he ate. His eyes promised that the rough yet strangely sensuous way that he ripped off chunks of the burger with his teeth and gulped them down was reflective of his hunger for HER.

As the hot food filled her belly, she got warmer, felt her face flush, and
she felt herself getting warm between her legs, too, tingly … and a little damp. That made her feel a little embarrassed, but she didn’t think there would be anyway the guys could tell.

The o
ther guy—Matt—sat to her left. He was watching her, too, his baby blue eyes peering through his glasses as he swallowed forkfuls of pancake.

“So … Umm … You from around here, originally, you said?” the skinny, baby-faced young man asked her.

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