Free Craving For Curves #1 (BBW Erotic Romance) by Evelyn Rosado Page B

weight. A lingerie cover model I am not." I took another bite of my food. It was still warm. Like the back of my neck. It always sweated when I got nervous. I hated talking about my weight. It was a subject that I boxed up and put in a deep dark corner of my insecure subconscious.
    "What? Please. Those models don’t look sexy. They're borderline anorexic. I've met a lot of them. Their diet consists of water with a slice of lemon and cocaine on the side."
    "Oh dear god," I chuckled. He’s funny too, I thought. Wow, he was really dispelling the myths and stereotypes I had about artists. That damn grandma!
    "I like a woman to be a woman. Curvaceous, full figured, you know, meat on their bones. I'm not into the angst ridden thirteen year old pre-pubescent boy look that’s all the rage these days." He slowly scanned me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. "I want something to hold onto. So tell me, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
    Okay, time to exit stage left. The way he was looking at me made my pussy hotter than a California brush fire in July.
    I placed a ten and a five under my untouched glass of water. All the cubes had melted in the glass and there was a small puddle saturating the napkin it was resting under. Damn, even the ice cubes noticed how handsome he was.
    "Sheesh, look at the time, ” I said rustling my purse and what looked like me attempting to put my trench coat on. Knowing me, I probably put it on inside out.
    “You have to leave?”
    “Uh, yea. You see I have this thing I have to go to that I forgot about.”
    In a frenzy I attempted to button up my coat, but I failed to fasten them because of my nervousness.
    “It was nice meeting you, Cassie.” He had a look of reluctance on his face.
    “Nice meeting you too.” I jetted past him in reckless abandon. I’m sure he wondered why I was leaving hastily, but I had to get out of there.
    ***
    I turned the key to my apartment door. Home. Away from the world. Why do I always run from what I want? It was a question I was always afraid of answering. No matter who asked it – even me. It was a long night and the only thing on my mind was my bed. For twenty minutes, I lie there agitated. Replaying the earlier encounter from Nipsey's, I imagined Braxton’s body lying next to mine and using my body like every instrument in his band. Tickling my juicy clitoris like it were ivory keys on a grand piano. Strumming my mountainous breasts as if they were strings on an upright bass. Crashing into my thighs like cymbals with his wooden drumstick. I urgently grabbed my dildo out of the 'goodie bag' in my nightstand and slid it into my sticky walls. I was wetter than the Everglades.
    I closed my eyes tighter and imaged his hulking body next to mine. He was totally naked and fully erect. He was gliding his tongue over every soft fragment of my body. His teeth were nibbling on me like I were morsel of candy. Wetness was gushing from out of my pussy and his hand was massaging my drenched clitoris. The sensation I imagined him giving me by sucking my nipples was overwhelming. Was this reality or was I dreaming ? I slid the rubbery cock deeper inside me. The ridges on the dildo were riding against my walls making the pleasure more powerful.
    I faded deeper into my naughty vision where Braxton’s tongue traveled from my massive breasts down in between my moist thighs. My pussy was an ocean and he was lapping up every succulent wave. His warm lips pursed on my swollen clitoris, making my ass tense up from the pleasure-filled shockwaves. Reeling from the gratification, he slid two soft fingers slowly into my hot, pink passage.
    “ Mmmm. You like that, Cassie?”
    “ Yeeeesssss, baby. It feels so good baby. I want three fingers inside of me.”
    He was pumping two digits into me with a calculated rhythm and managed a third one into me. My tight pussy stretched to welcome the third penetration. Braxton began tickling my g spot back and forth; forth and back, almost