Free Fatshionista by Vanessa McKnight

he pushed
his tongue lightly into the cleavage that the tight garment created.
     
    My fingers sunk
into his thick, black hair and I arched my back as he became more insistent
with his exploration of my hidden assets. He shifted me between his legs,
straddling my hips. He laid the scissors down on the pillow next to me and
leaned over me, trailing kisses from my stomach up to my breasts. I could
barely feel the pressure of his lips or the heat of his breath through the
tight Lycra.
     
    “Please…,” I
sighed. I was about to grab those scissors and make short work of this myself.
     
    “Please what, my
darling Millie? Please continue to tease me with your tongue? Please release me
from the bonds of this synthetic, man-made material? Why in the world you dream
yourself into this fabric is beyond me. You have a lush, gorgeous figure; why
would you want to confine it in this horrible contraption?”
     
    “Maybe I dream
myself into this impenetrable undergarment because I need a real man to get me
out of it. Only the best, the cleverest, and the one most worthy of the prize.”
My toes were curling at the idea of him being the best…purrrrrr.
     
    “Ahhhh, so this
is some type of test to see if I am worthy of your hidden bounties? Trust me,
my dear sweet Rapunzel, trapped in your tower of Lycra, I am just the man to
free you from this constricting prison. You cannot possibly want out of this
garment any more than I want you out of it. I’ve been dreaming about your
luscious shape for what seems like an eternity.”
     
    And I have
been waiting for your hot naked body plastered up against mine for years , I
thought as I wiggled deeper into the pillows.
     
    “And I swear to
God if I wake up twisting and turning and completely unfulfilled, I will never
invite you to another fantasy again!” Sexually frustrated Millie was simmering
right below the surface.
     
    “Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Patience, my sweet, Lycra-covered sex goddess. All good things come to those
who wait.” He reached down to pull his kurta up over his hips and then held my
gaze while he paused mid-strip.
     
    Then, slowly, he
pulled it over his head, mussing his hair and revealing a downright delicious-looking
chest. Not much hair—just a sprinkling in all the right places that led
down to the drawstring of his pants. I was thrumming with excitement and torn
between running my hands all over that golden goodness and slapping the crap
out of him because I was still stuck in this foundation garment!
     
    I opened my mouth
to issue yet another order and he covered it with one long, brown finger.
     
    “Shhhhh, I got
it. Just breathe; I got this.”
     
    He leaned down
and gently kissed my forehead, his stubble lightly grazing my skin. He kissed
my closed eyelids; he kissed the tip of my nose, while his thumb ran back and
forth over my bottom lip. My hips were arching up toward him, my whole body
straining to get closer to his. All of this with just his thumb touching my lip.
I was hard-pressed to imagine what would happen if he ever did get me out of
this garment.
     
    “Kiss me, Millie.
Kiss me long, slow, and wet, and maybe, just maybe, I will use the tools of my
trade and free you from this synthetic prison.”
     
    “Stop talking,” I
said as I grabbed his head and brought his lips down to mine.
     
    He refused to be
manhandled and resisted my pull on the back of his neck and just lightly
brushed his lips back and forth over mine. I could feel the heat of his breath
and see his smile as he teased me. This was completely unacceptable. I touched
the bottom of his lip with my tongue, then drew it into my mouth and gave it a
quick little bite.
     
    Something shifted
in his eyes and with a low growl he took my mouth. And it was his for the
taking. The man knew what to do. My eyes slammed shut and I was lost in the
heat of his kiss. All at once I couldn’t get enough; my hands were alternating
between running up and down the smooth skin of his back and delving