Free The Harem by Paul Preston Page A

me. Bye, mousy girl. First come, first served. I hope you figure out a way to catch your share of the cheese. Jeremy grabbed my hand and whisked me out of there. On the way to our “room”, he put his arm around the blubber on my waist.
    “I’m so glad you came, Cynthia.”
    My mouth always got me in trouble. Sometimes things just slip out of my pie hole, unbidden.
    “You haven’t made me come yet, Jeremy.”
    Jeremy gave me a deep-throated chuckle and squeezed me tighter around my spare tire. That’s right, Jeremy. I’m a sex kitten and not a chicken-shit. The bigger the cushion, the better the pushing, right? Despite my bravura, I started to get nervous. Suddenly I wanted to get the hell out of there. We kept walking.
    He led me down a long corridor and into a lovely bedroom. There was a four poster bed in the center of the room with a wrapped present sitting on it and a massage table set up nearby. We sat down together in front of a vanity table mirror. Jeremy stared at me as I twisted my fingers together and pressed them into my lap.
    “It’s good to see you, Cynthia. I’m so glad you showed up tonight. You’re welcome here anytime, day or night. I’d like your cell phone number so we can talk, maybe see each other privately during the week. Call me or text me your number. I slipped my personal cell number into the back pocket of those sexy jeans of yours a minute ago. Did you notice?”
    “I didn’t feel it through all the layers of flab on my ass…”
    I know it sounds terrible but I talk about myself like that sometimes, especially when I’m nervous. Why not just get it out in the open what everyone else is thinking? Making a joke about it defuses the tension, I figure.
    Jeremy reacted in a nice way. He stood up, ignoring my self-deprecating remark, and stood behind my chair. Looking deeply into my eyes in the reflection of the mirror, he brushed strands of hair around my ears and placed his large warm hands around my throat.
    “You have the prettiest eyes, Cynthia.”
    “That’s kind of you to say, Jeremy. How long have you been a chubby chaser?”
    Jeremy responded by unbuttoning my white shirt down to my naval. He opened the collar slightly, revealing my cleavage. With his fingertips, he stroked very lightly down my breasts and under the elastic of my bra.
    “You have such nice creamy, white skin, Cynthia, and such full breasts…”
    I couldn’t stop myself.
    “You mean full like the teats of huge fucking cow?”
    Jeremy’s hands drifted up to the back of my neck and he kneaded my tight shoulder muscles. It felt heavenly. Why couldn’t I stop my mouth? I was ruining it.
    “Would you like that massage now, Cynthia?”
    I quickly buttoned up my shirt and stood up to leave.
    “Listen, Jeremy, you really are a very charming man and I know you’d like to find partners to play along with your sexy games and I’m very flattered you invited me here but seriously, why are you wasting your time on me? By now I’m sure you have more attractive and slender women, like Evelyn, waiting for you, with their contracts signed, all ready to go. Shall we call it a night?”
    “Have I done something to make you nervous or uncomfortable, Cynthia?”
    “No, not at all. You’ve been fine, Jeremy. It’s just me. I’m just a little cranky and hungry I guess. There’s a Burger King over on Shady Grove Road calling out my name.”
    As I spoke, Jeremy ignored me. He dimmed the lights, lit a candle and put on some soothing music, sounds recorded in a rainforest. I heard exotic birds chirping, rainfall dropping through trees, leaves rustling. He took my hand and attempted to lead me over to the massage table. But when I want to be, I’m an immovable object, no matter how big or strong you are. I took my hand back from his grasp.
    “Thank you, Jeremy. I’m not in the mood for a massage.”
    “Are you sure? I don’t mean to boast, but I’m fairly good at it.”
    “I have no doubt about that. But I’m…