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  Copyright@2015 by Celia Styles

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  Long and Dirty Night

  By Celia Styles

  Chapter 1: Not the same anymore

  It was quiet but her moans were loud. Sensual pleasure at its highest. She was almost there… she could feel it… Almost… In and out, in and out, and Christine could feel every inch of herself begin to weaken and her legs begin to tremble.

  “Mmmmm.” she finally moaned, her legs beginning to quiver. The liquid juices poured out of her, and she quickly used a nearby napkin to wipe herself off.

  She pulled out the battery operated toy from inside her pussy, and stared at it for a moment. She admired how wet she managed to make herself, and how she managed to cope without Brandon. She cleaned it and safely hid it in the bottom drawer where she always hides it, then continued with a book by Sabrina Paige, ‘Cannon.’

  Erotica and masturbation had become Christine’s source of solace. With a husband that no longer touched her and barely looked at her, it was the only escape she could turn to that could allow her to continue with this marriage. Many times she had thought to leave, but each time the hope of change softened her resolve.

  How things had gone wrong she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that one minute she was a happy new bride and the next her husband couldn’t stand her. Had she known, she wouldn’t have gotten married to him at all.

  It was a quarter to 2 am when Brandon walked in. She noticed that his tie was askew and a button on his shirt was undone; the telltale signs of a love affair. He must have been with one of his many women again she presumed. Not that that’s anything new.

  He walked in, and didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he headed straight for a towel.

  “Why are you still awake?” he asked.

  “Just couldn’t sleep.” She politely replied.

  As is routine, he got undressed and went to take his shower, probably hoping to wash off the smell. She was used to this by now, so when he climbed into the sheets and turned off his side lamp, she knew that once again, there would be no love making tonight.

  She continued to read, drowning out the pain. Occasionally she stared at him, wondering who this stranger lying beside her was. When no answers to her questions could be found, Christine turned off her light and tried, though unsuccessfully, to get some sleep.

  Morning came and Christine laid motionless in bed. She drowned out the noise of Brandon snoring by imagining a better a life; a life in which she is married to a man who sees her for who she is; a man who appreciates her; one who loves her and respects her.

  That was definitely not Brandon though. He was just an asshole.

  He had been great during the wedding but after the honeymoon, he had completely changed. He became someone she couldn’t recognize. Someone who started staying out late and coming home even later, evidently satisfied. And though she tried hard to please him, she slowly watched him start to resent her. Her and her body. Hardly ever wanting her anymore.

  She wondered what she had done wrong, but in all honesty, there was absolutely nothing. It was him that had changed, not her. She had done everything that a wife should, everything humanly possible that is. She knew however that the few things that he wanted from her were things she couldn’t give, things such as rewinding history and making her parents emanate from wealthier backgrounds.

  She dreaded the family gatherings with his parents, and she all but just wished he were from a different family. Her efforts to bond with them failed and it turned Brandon into a much bigger pain in the ass.

  She arose, knowing that the dinner scheduled that night was going to be just as bad as the others. However she remained optimistic, hoping that somehow, they might have a change of heart. She decided to pick an outfit that might change their perception of her, and set out to the mall to buy one.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  The dress fit beautifully. It was the fifth one she’d tried on and this one just seemed to bring out the best in her curvaceous body. She turned around, staring at her ass in the mirror. She began to run her hands over it and then proceeded to caress her waist. What a beauty. Christine wondered if Brandon would like it. She had picked it just for him.

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” Brandon asked when he walked through the door, obviously annoyed.

  Somehow, she had gotten it wrong. Again.

  “Don’t you like it?” Christine responded, turning around so he could get a better look.

  “Mother won’t like it.” He answered sternly. “It’s too tight. You look fat.”

  Christine’s heart sank and she looked back into the mirror. Nothing she ever did these days felt good enough for him and all her efforts seemed futile. She sighed deeply, and brought her hands to the back of the dress, unzipping it as a tear fell down her cheek. She was tired of trying, and she felt like she no longer had any strength to endure Brandon’s torture.

  Brandon’s mother greeted them at the door at seven thirty, though their dinner appointment had been for eight. She had decided on a pair of loose fitting pants instead, those and a long sleeved top that hid her arms and hands.

  Their house was enormous, decorated with the most vintage artefacts that Brandon’s parents could find. They had tiled every inch of the house with a marble floor, and went on to decorate the walls with even more expensive décor. A large ebony piano flown in from Spain was one of the main attractions in their very spacious foyer, and one couldn’t imagine what they would find once they entered the living room.

  Without disappointing, the living room was majestic with a ceiling that towered the room two floors high. It stood with a white and brown theme, its couches milk white and the cushions coffee brown, and was undoubtedly definitely beautiful.

  All throughout dinner Brandon had talked about how she had started walking every day, hoping his family would be delighted that somewhere in the near future she just might start losing some weight. Christine sat silently at the center, her fingernails tapping on the wooden table. She was eager to leave, but Brandon didn’t flinch at any signal she gave. He was at peace in his home with his uppity family. The people who dictated everything about his life.

  “I’m sorry Christine, did I already ask? What did you say your parents do again?”

  This was the third time Brandon’s father had asked her what her father did for a living, and she was tired of the emotional badgering.

  “He’s a mechanic.” She replied. Unapologetic. And she watched as their faces became filled with repulsion. The silence that followed was by all means awkward, and the clinking of forks and knives against the enamel plates became deafening.

  “And your mother?” he asked, continuing to taunt.

  “Mother passed on.” She replied. “But she was a banker.” Christine added, knowing full well that she was feeding into the mockery.

  The night was too much to bear, and just as she’d sworn over and over again, she decided she wouldn’t dine with her husband’s family ever again, even if it meant that they would loathe her more than they already did.

  The following afternoon, Christine awoke, with exercise on her mind. There had to be a way in which her husband and his family
could accept her again. She decided to take a long walk to clear her mind, and this time she walked further than she had ever gone, finding herself in roads that she hadn’t traveled through before.

  Peaking from a distance behind a short bush was a house she had never noticed before. Hearing music and loud laughter, she became interested in what was going on. She edged closer, coming to a stop in front of a large gate, and stood amazed at the gigantic house that stared back at her.

  Chapter 2: The Ball

  She gaped at the large mansion that oddly stood in the concealment of these woods. How had she never been here before? She admired the garden, which was partitioned by several sidewalks, and covered what must have been several normal sized yards. She stood back, taking in the scenery which begun with a red brick driveway that went all the way up to two large statues on either side of a grand wooden door. All four corners of the yard were wired with a twisted fence that kept the house enclosed, and neatly trimmed hedges crept up on it.

  The yard had bushes trimmed into all sorts of shapes and people littered the parts of the lawn that were not taken up by the marble fountain, the flowers or the amazing animal shaped statues that were placed at every hundred yards. Water flowed from a statue of a woman that was perched at the top of the fountain, holding a vase and looking up at the sky. It then fell back down into its oval shaped base and the Assyrian feature had miniature versions of dolphins placed on each end, adding to its final touch.

  The burgundy coating of the paint that covered all but the front part of the house made it seem royal. Its roof was peaked, uniquely slanting at an angle. The windows were made of monochromatic sheet glass, and had royal purple curtains hanging on their insides. She could imagine them hanging all the way down, almost scraping the floor.

  “We’re late!” squealed two women who quickly rushed past her, then stopped. “What are you waiting for?” one lady asked, turning to face Christine.

  “Oh, I’m just looking. Sorry.” she replied.

  “Oh don’t be shy!” the other replied. “You made it this far!” She stepped back, took her by the hand and they all walked in.

  Christine looked around and noticed that there were many elegantly dressed women; all plus sized women. Women who resembled her in every aspect, though she doubted whether their husbands loathed them. There were hundreds of them, all here for some unknown purpose. They all wore elegant gowns, some flowing to the ground while others ended below the knee. There must be a million designs here, she thought to herself, and she looked at her own dress, thankful that she had chosen a pretty one that morning.

  Moments later, greeted by a woman wearing a red and black ball gown, hair set in perfect curls flowing down to her shoulders and a smile so wide it could melt any man’s heart. She welcomed Christine, "Hello, welcome to the pageant. Feel at home and you will be informed of any interests.”

  “Pageant?” she asked. “What for?”

  “I’m guessing you’ve never been here before.” She said giggling. “This is a pageant for big, large and most importantly, beautiful women. Contestants model down a ramp and you’ll be notified of any interests.”

  Interests? What did that mean?

  Christine decided to blend in and not ask too many questions. Sooner or later, she would find out what this was all about.

  The statues towered over her as if attempting to intimidate her, but she instead used them for shade. Had she known she would have carried an umbrella. A fashionable one that is.

  She heard loud echoing sounds from inside the mansion, announcements of some sort. She wondered what was going on inside there, but she decided against going in. She had already come this far uninvited. It was safer for her to just remain in arm’s length of the gate in case she needed to run.

  Christine studied her surroundings, and began to notice of the kind of people in attendance. The women were all plus sized, beautiful and seemingly wealthy. They were well poised, with graceful mannerisms and elegant statures. They all seemed to know what they were here for, and walked around frequently, as if parading themselves.

  Wait a minute, that’s exactly what they were doing.

  The men, whom she hadn’t really taken notice of till this point, stood afar, watching.

  Actually, not watching. Choosing.

  The men were picking their women.

  Many held pipes placed in between their forefingers and thumbs while other had them between their lips. They held tiny notebooks in their hands and expensive pens to write with. They were all clad in tailor made suits with shiny shoes, and would occasionally whisper amongst themselves with their eyes all set on a mutual target.

  Christine then noticed two men smiling, while pointed at her. In shyness, she turned to the side, just to see another gentleman scribbling in his notebook while he looked at her. The attention grew more evident and she couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant.

  “You are indeed very beautiful.” A woman said, joining her under the shade of a unicorn statue. It’s no surprise at all that the men are mesmerized by your beauty.”

  “I’m not sure that’s what it is.” Christine answered modestly. They must be looking at everyone that way.

  “Look around.” She said. “They are all looking at you.”

  Christine looked around and saw that sure enough, she had become the object of many men’s interest. She casually smiled when she could, but shied away when the gazes became too intense.

  “So what do I do now?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” The lady, whom she soon came to learn was Rosanna, continued, “You just wait.”

  Christine began to relax, realizing that nature would take its course no matter what she did. She then decided to enjoy herself, that having been the reason she had come in search of this escape in the first place.

  Time flew by and the sunset soon began to announce the arrival of night. She figured it was time to leave as another fight with Brandon was the last thing that she wanted.

  As Christine was about to turn and leave, she was halted by a smartly dressed woman.

  “Thank you for coming ma’am.” The lady with a tag labeled ‘Lisa Jensen. Coordinator’ said. “Daniel Strauss would like to personally invite you to be a model in the next event. In addition, here are your ‘interests’ of the day. Thank you and we hope to see you at the next event. ”

  Sweetly smiling, she handed Christine five notes, then walked away.

  Christine walked home knowing that the notes were letters to her from some of the men. She wondered what the notes would say.

  Once in her room she stood in the mirror, and stared at her huge breasts with the bright pink nipples that blended into a rather large brown areola. She had a small waist in comparison to her large hips and it had always made for a perfect hourglass figure. Brandon had often told her that he thought her tummy looked like a big pouch with a rather large dimple. It was his description that she saw and loathed every day when she looked in the mirror. Every day she resolved to lose weight, either by running or eating a little less. She turned around to look at her behind, and raised one ass cheek to reveal her plump vulva. Though it was big, she could see now that it was rather beautiful.

  Today, what she saw wasn’t the loathsome overweight awkward oaf. Today she saw a large voluptuous beautiful woman that had just moments before been the center of attraction for the largest group of good looking men that she had ever seen. Today she felt sexy. She touched her nipples and gently rubbed them as she remembered how all the men had stared at her and drooled. As the recollection came to mind she began to feel her panties dampen. Never before had the sight of her own body been so arousing. She found herself gently caressing her tummy, playing with her navel and slowly going down to the little tuft of hair between those now very sexy thighs. She gently slipped a finger inside herself, feeling the warmth, and watching the wetness dampen her fingers. She began to rub herself and gently move her fingers. This gave sensations that she had never felt during the sex tha
t she and her husband had.

  Sex with Brandon had always been in the darkness with the lights turned off and her body always out of his view. She had since then hated mirrors as they were a constant reminder of her being a misfit in a society that celebrated slender women. Through high school and college, men had walked past her like she did not exist. She instead jumped at Brandon who just happened to be the first man who gave her attention, and before they knew it they were married. She had always taken sex as a chore done in marriage and not once had she enjoyed to the fullest, however she hoped to one day find it fulfilling.

  Though she had spent the last few years at the mercy of Brandon and had learned to be accustomed to all the negative things he had to say, she came to the realization that maybe other men found her attractive.

  Chapter 3: Daniel Strauss

  Thursday, July 15th

  4:00pm