Curvy Girls Do It Better

by Scarlett Avery

  Luckily, when I walk into the room, there are a few of my colleagues chatting and catching up. I take advantage of the fact they’re busy socializing to find a strategic seat. Jennifer is standing in the corner of the boardroom laughing at something Molly Russell, one of the art directors on the plus-size division, said and I can’t help but notice her striking red suit. Have I ever seen Jennifer wear the same outfit twice since she started here six months ago? It’s good to be her.

  Jennifer is a very privileged woman who has never known hardship—her dad still lives in Hong Kong and he owns a manufacturing plant that spits out millions of plastic bags for retailers from around the world every month. Since she’s an only child, she’s poised to inherit her father’s colossal fortune.

  Five years ago she married Seth Weingarten, one of the wealthiest real-estate lords in New York. Seth’s grandfather is a legend in Manhattan. He came on a boat from Hungary with less than twenty dollars in his pockets and one change of clothes, but within ten years Yaakov Weingarten was king of the Big Apple’s real estate market. Rumors flooded New York’s papers and gossip blogs about tension and discord among the powerful Weingarten clan because Seth broke a tradition dating back centuries when he married outside of the Jewish faith. The only redeeming factor playing in his favor is the fact Jennifer is wife number three and the only non-Jew. Seth’s other wives ensured the bloodline remained intact thanks to a brood of children.

  As if being this privileged wasn’t irritating enough, Jennifer’s size-zero frame means she’s never had to deal with body image issues. She’s always the first one to gloat about how she’s been able to maintain the same dress size since she was a teenager even after giving birth to her son Malcolm. God, I want to puke every time she reminds us. She might be well off, but it’s too bad her personality sucks. What’s the point of having so much money if everybody abhors you?

  Jennifer has been awarded the name Maleficent thanks to her snooty and condescending attitude. She might be the queen bee around the office, but few of us trust her or even like her—I’m sure she wouldn’t hesitate to throw her own son under the bus if it meant she’d gain favor with the big bosses of the holding company that owns this magazine. I guess you could say Jennifer is my own version of Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada—except my devil wears Gucci.

  She turns my way and I’m forced to lower my eyes, conscious of the fact I’m staring at her. Fuck. Without leaving my gaze she announces the meeting is about to start.

  We all rally around the boardroom table like children about to start class. After going through the agenda, it’s clear we’re in for a long and boring meeting… or monologue, as I like to call them. My God, I hope this coffee keeps me awake.

  * * *

  Technically, I’m supposed to be paying a lot more attention during this team meeting than I actually am, but Jennifer is going over the same rhetoric she always rambles about. Jesus, this is painful. If only her voice wasn’t so monotone, perhaps it would help in keeping us somewhat interested in what she has to share. Just as I think I’m about to die from listening to Jennifer list a series of mundane goals we should reach as a division in the next quarter, a text comes across my phone. My eyes quickly dart down at my phone, which I strategically placed on my lap, and his name flashes across my screen. Max.

  I grab my phone and slide it under my notepad to be able to better read his message.

  The meeting ended early and I was hoping to see you before I leave the building. Can you get away for a few minutes?

  I look up at the clock on the wall and bite my lower lip. Crap. If I don’t sneak out of here, I’ll be stuck in here for another forty minutes and I’ll have missed Max. I furtively scan the room. My colleagues are either extremely fascinated by what Jennifer has to say or they’re sleeping with their eyes open. Most likely the latter given our past private chats.

  Yes. I can get away. Where do you want to meet?

  -----

  Good news. Let’s meet in the Fashion Archive room where we snuck into a little over one week ago after you stormed out of our meeting at your office.

  What? Has he lost his mind? Why on earth does he want us to meet there?

  You can’t possibly be serious?

  -----

  Sweetness, I’m as serious as my hard-on. Get yourself here right this instant to help me relieve it before I go mad.

  My eyes are glued to my phone and I’m still in shock at Max’s words when I notice Jennifer is no longer talking. Crap. I slowly look up and meet her disapproving stare.

  “Candy, is there something urgent I should know about?”

  I was so focused on answering Max, I didn’t notice Jennifer had turned her attention to me. As I look around the room, I’m mortified at the nine pairs of eyes darting my way. I’m so screwed right now.

  Think fast. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. I didn’t want to interrupt the meeting, but I just received an urgent text from our new advertiser and it seems there are a few things I should be aware of before I leave in a couple of days for Miami,” I lie. God, please don’t let me blush. “Can I step out for a few minutes to take care of this? I have a conference call with Sexy Curves Lingerie’s team tomorrow to talk about their upcoming features in the magazine. There might be a few last-minute details I need to provide to them.”

  I hope I sound convincing enough. I fully expect to feel the weight of her wrath on me like a meteor hitting the earth on Doomsday, but instead Jennifer’s eyes light up and her lips curl up in a smile. Lord, I’ve never even seen her grin. Money does talk.

  “Absolutely, Candy. Taking care of our top advertiser is your number-one priority. Why don’t I fill you in on a few things you might have missed later today? Please, grab your things and go take care of this right now.”

  Did she actually use the word “please”? “Thank you for your understanding. I do apologize, but this is so unexpected. I’ll see you later.” I avoid making eye contact with anyone in the room, afraid my colleagues might read my deception, and instead gather my things and run out of the boardroom.

  The second I step out of the meeting, I grab my phone again to answer his latest message.

  Did I lose you?

  -----

  No. Sorry. I had to find a way to get out of a meeting.

  -----

  Thank God, because this raging erection is threatening to rip apart these new expensive trousers I bought last month on Bond Street in London and I’d hate for a good suit to go to waste simply because you’re not attentive to my needs.

  -----

  I’m on my way.

  -----

  Come and get your quickie, Candy.

  Fuck, I’m already wet.

  BOOK 2—CURVY GIRLS DO IT BETTER

  Chapter Nine

  I stand in front of the Fashion Archive room like a policewoman standing vigil at the door of a wanted criminal. I scan the hallway before I muster up enough courage to open the door to meet Max at our secret rendezvous location. The man has balls.

  When I’m certain no one is paying attention, I knock on the door and he opens. I peer inside the room and when I finally step inside, a half-naked man greets me.

  “How on earth did you manage to get in here?” I really should be locked into his beautiful hazel eyes, but his hungry erection is way too distracting.

  “I rattled the handle of the door, and just like last week, it was open. I saw this as a sign we were destined to be misbehaving right here in your office,” he says with a devilish smile.

  “You’re very lucky someone isn’t doing their job properly because this door is supposed to remain locked at all times. We keep priceless archives of past issues and upper management is quite strict about protecting our assets.”

  “It’s good to see you too, sweetness. We can stand here chatting about office policies or you can get down on your hands and knees. I want you to crawl all the way here and put my aching cock into your wet mouth,” he commands.

  The rawness
of his words slaps me across the face with such force I take a step back. Holy Jesus.

  “Tick, tock, honey. I don’t have all day.” His self-assurance is an aphrodisiac. “Where do you want me to leave my mark?” Max continues without waiting for my answer while his gaze zeroes in on my breasts. “That’s a dangerously sexy top. I love how I can make out the outline of your bra. Damn, I’d give good money to see you strip right now and expose those luscious huge tits of yours.” His raunchy dialogue is going to set me on fire. “You know, during my meeting, I could only imagine licking your nipples as my cock stiffened. There was no way in hell I was leaving this building without seeing you—or should I say fucking you?” As if his words weren’t fuel enough, he strokes his hard cock and folds his lower lip into his mouth as a blatant invitation. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be so forward, since you are at work. I’m sorry, but it’s impossible for me to resist you.”

  “You really don’t sound sorry and your erection negates pretty much every word you’ve just said.”

  “I’m really not and you’re right, I do have a raging erection. I’m desperate to bury my cock deep down your throat and feel you shudder all over my dick, Candy.”

  Oh, hell, yeah. He was made to fit into my mouth.

  “So this is what you’ve been fantasizing about instead of paying attention during the meeting with the executives?” I glide towards him like a panther after a prey.

  He chuckles, but the sound dies when I hit my knees in front of him. Surprised by my suddenness, he shuffles backwards until his naked ass meets the edge of a filing cabinet. He braces both hands against it, trying to catch his breath. I unbutton his shirt, revealing his washboard abs, and I pause long enough to glance up at him and grin. My tongue flicks over the tip of his cock and then circles it, and he lets his head fall back with a groan.

  “Holy shit.”

  After three long strokes up his dick, he’s panting. Good. Once he’s glistening with moisture, my hand curls around his base, my lips eagerly sucking his crown. Slowly. Inch by inch. I want to make sure I prolong the pleasure—his and mine.

  “Jesus, Candy. I thought I had fucked you well enough this morning, but obviously I left you in need of more.” He reaches down to open my V-neck jersey top before shoving his hand down my bra.

  “Hmmm,” I moan into his cock.

  “Christ,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through my mane. He grabs the back of my head and pulls me closer towards him and I whimper as he pulls at my hair. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I can’t stand it anymore. You suck me so well, it’s surreal.”

  I haven’t even started yet.

  My tongue rolls around his shaft, teasing him mercilessly while my hand strokes him at his base. My other hand is busy cupping his balls and pressing hard enough to get another groan out of him. God, I love his balls—heavy and full.

  “Fuck. My entire life is focused between my legs in this moment, Candy. Nothing else matters but your lips around my dick. I’m going to fill your pretty little mouth as punishment for being this good.” He accentuates his words by pressing so hard on my right nipple, my body caves in and I stop breathing for a fraction of a second.

  “Harder. Suck me harder,” he commands in a low voice, pulling at my tangled hair harshly.

  I take as much of Max as I can into my mouth, pivoting back on my heels to give me more leverage. I grip the base with my left hand as the right moves to caress his stomach.

  He mumbles a string of inaudible words before letting out a muffled grunt. His hips bounce against the hard edge of the filing cabinets as he rocks himself into me inch by inch. I murmur around the thickness, relishing in the feeling of unbridled abandonment as my tongue runs over his cock in the most salacious way possible.

  “Holy Christ.” His hand moves to my neck and I flinch for a moment before I find my rhythm again. I pump him hard and fast, my mouth opening wider to take all of him in. I bob my head back and forth, overtaken by licentious horniness, oversexed by the most carnal love affair I’ve had so far.

  “Damn, I’m going to have to sneak into your office more often and demand you get down on your knees and suck me so royally.” His cock jerks in my hands the moment the words leave his lips. “Shit.”

  I slide my head back just enough so the tip of his cock is still inside my warm mouth, teasing and tempting it. He’ll never forget our smutty encounter in the Fashion Archive room. I close my hands tighter around his balls and feel them constrict against my grip. He’s so close. I tighten even more around his heavy balls as I firm my mouth around his cock. He grabs my hair so harshly it tingles. A small burst of his nectar spurts onto my tongue followed by one endless stream of his warm milk gushing down my throat.

  “Jesus, Candy.” His voice is deep, raw and low. I gently push him out of my mouth, relishing the moment, but a few drips of his milk land on my chin. I look up at him while I try to lick up the parts of him that escaped and I can tell he enjoyed this as much as I did. His eyes are still glazed from his powerful climax and he reaches down to help me scoop up every last drop, but he stops dead when we hear voices at the door.

  “Shhhh, don’t move,” I whisper, placing a finger against my lips. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Hey, Stella, what are you doing on our floor? I thought you guys from the executive office only sent emails requesting stuff and the rest of us scrambled to get it to you pronto.”

  This is not happening to me. Carl Applegate, my colleague, is entertaining Stella Cavill, the executive assistant to one of the VPs, a few feet away from where I’m still in this submissive position in front of Max’s dick. Can I be more screwed right now?

  The only relief in this situation is the panicked expression on Max’s face. I’m glad to see I’m not the only one worried to death. Both our gazes bounce from each other to the door. I’m so stricken with worry, I’m unable to move, afraid the slightest motion will call unwanted attention to us.

  “Carl, nonsense. I’m here in the flesh to grab a few back issues to bring up to a meeting with the VPs. As usual they have big plans.”

  “Which issues do you need? I have a shitload of them at my desk because I’m planning a few special sections for the upcoming Christmas edition for both the magazines and websites.”

  “I need to grab a few wedding editions and bring them back up pronto for a meeting my boss is having with a few of the other VPs.”

  “Then I can’t help you, child. You’ll have to dig your way out of the Fashion Archive room on your own.”

  I hear Carl’s boisterous laugh and I swallow hard.

  Oh, my Lord.

  I look up at Max, sweat running down my back, panicked.

  “Didn’t you lock the door behind you?” he whispers.

  “No, I was too turned on when I saw you standing there with your pants down around your knees and your signature I’m-going-to-fuck-your-mouth grin on your face. It slipped my mind.”

  “This is not going to end well if one of the VPs’ assistants opens the door and finds us in this compromising situation.”

  “You think?” I hiss.

  I stop breathing the second I hear a key slide into the keyhole as Stella rattles the door handle to get into the room.

  Oh, shit, we’re totally busted. I’m going to get fired for performing lewd acts at work. How do I explain being down on my knees with a major advertiser’s cock in my mouth and his warm release drizzling down my chin?

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  ***

  The story gets even steamier in Curves Envy—

  Book 3 Claimed By An Alpha.

  Grab your copy today to discover if Max and Candy Get Caught Red Handed!

  To Be Continued In Book 3

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