Dangerous Curves Ahead (BBW Erotic Romance)

Dangerous Curves
Ahead

By Arabella Quinn

Dangerous Curves Ahead

Published by Arabella Quinn at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Arabella Quinn

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Dangerous Curves Ahead

Sarah leaned towards us
from across the booth, yelling to be heard over the loud country
music and the raucous crowd. "What? You've never had an orgasm?"
Cursing myself for letting the words escape my lips, I felt a rush
of heat flushing my face.
Damn!
Only two drinks in and I was already getting
tipsy.

"Shhh!" I quickly glanced
around the bar, making sure no one had overheard. After a moment of
anxiety, we all broke out into giggles. "I didn't say I
never
had an orgasm.
I've had plenty. I just have to take care of business
myself."

Jenna turned toward me with eyebrows raised,
a confused expression on her face. "But, you've had lots of
boyfriends! Are you telling me that not one of them could give you
an orgasm?"

I shrugged my shoulders
wanting badly to change the subject. "I've had three boyfriends
that lasted more than a month - Ricky in high school, Dave in
college, and Tom. Believe me, none of them were exactly
skilled
in
bed."

The girls nodded their heads in sympathy.
Sarah looked at me hopefully, "What about that guy you were dating
last year, uh… George, was it?"

"John. And, no." Swallowing down the bitter
feelings, I shook my head. John had been a disaster. I had hung
onto that relationship for far too long, despite our utter lack of
chemistry. I had enjoyed going on dates and having plans for the
weekend, but certainly hadn't enjoyed the awkward pawing and banal
humping in the bedroom. Shuddering with disgust, I shook off the
awful memories and pasted on a fake smile.

Jenna looked downright depressed. "When was
the last time you got laid, anyway?"

"Yeah. It's been a while." I didn't want to
admit it had been over a year ago - since the last time I had been
with John.

I picked up my drink and swallowed down the
rest of the contents in one gulp, regretting that my offhand remark
had killed all the fun we had been having, while gossiping and
catching up with each other. Sarah had been dropping juicy tidbits
about sex with her latest fling, a hunky firefighter, when I
mumbled my confession. Maybe I was just jealous of all the fabulous
sex that seemed to find her? Now, unfortunately, my two best
friends were focused on my non-existent sex life.

Jenna interrupted my contemplation, "You
know, Krista, you're always dating responsible men, you know - the
pasty-faced accountant types. No wonder they don't do anything for
you!"

Jenna had a point. In fact, John fit that
description fairly accurately. But it wasn't like I was turning
away a bunch of hunky bad-boys. I didn't exactly have my pick of
the entire male species. The sexy studs that I fantasized about
didn't date women like me. They dated drop-dead gorgeous girls like
Sarah, girls with size 2 figures, fashionable clothes, manicured
nails, and high maintenance attitudes. And that was the opposite
description of me.

No, I wasn't hideous. In
fact, I was rather cute. I was painstaking with my wardrobe to find
clothes that were flattering and complimentary to my figure. I
wasn't high maintenance, but I did keep up with my hair, makeup and
accessories to look stylish and, I liked to think, to look somewhat
sophisticated. But I was completely aware of how people saw me.
"Wow, Krista has such a pretty face.
If
only she lost twenty pounds
…"

I shook my head, trying to clear the
negative internal dialogue that always seemed to crowd in and ruin
a good time. Where was that waiter? I needed another drink -
especially with the direction I saw this conversation heading.

The sparkle that suddenly
lit Sarah's eyes had me inwardly groaning. "I know
exactly
what Krista
needs. She needs a real manly man to get her juices flowing. No
more boring bean-counters for her. What she needs is a hot
cowboy!"

I turned to Jenna, but as I saw her eyes
light up with mischief, I realized there would be no help from that
corner. Jenna replied, "You're right! I've seen a lot of hot guys
here tonight that I wouldn't mind getting naughty with myself."

We all laughed as at just that moment Jenna
winked at a passing cowboy who in turn tipped his hat to her as he
walked by our table. Jenna was like that. She was never the most
beautiful woman in the room, but she sure got lots of attention.
She had a fun bubbly personality and exuded a confidence that
attracted men of all types. I, on the other hand, was a little more
reserved and more self-conscious around men.

Without a doubt, I knew my insecurities were
holding me back. But it was impossible to block out that little
voice inside my head. The voice that told me the handsome man
talking to me wasn't really interested, he was just being nice. The
voice that told me I wasn't worthy of my fantasy man. It was the
voice that I constantly argued with and debated, but rarely
won.

It was a few brief memories that always kept
me from winning that debate. Incidents like the time in college,
talking to the cute boy at the frat party when I overheard his
friends joking that when he woke up in the morning, the 'beer
goggles' would be off and he would see the 'fat chick'. Or the time
at work, when I overheard one of my colleagues joking that they
should 'get to the doughnuts before Krista found out about them'.
There were other comments about my weight, almost never said
directly to me; however, just as hurtful. Comments that left sharp
pinpricks of tears stinging to escape my eyes and a hard lump in my
throat as I swallowed down my shame.

While I was mature enough to realize I
should never allow a few jerks to dominate my self-image, those few
fleeting memories always seemed to chip away at my fragile
self-confidence. So I never even looked twice at good-looking men.
The inevitable sting of a nasty comment just wasn't worth it. An
average looking man who could overlook my flaws would do just
fine.

I shook off my depressing thoughts just in
time to notice Sarah and Jenna clinking their glasses together.
"C'mon, Jenna. We have work to do. We've got to find Krista a hot
cowboy stud for the night."

I squirmed uncomfortably in the booth. "You
know girls, I don't think hot cowboys are quite my type."

Jenna's eyes twinkled merrily. "Don't worry,
Krista, you don't have to marry the man. You just have to fuck
him!"

***

Jake hailed down a passing waiter and
ordered another beer. He had been nursing the last few sips of his
current beer for the past ten minutes, just as he had been nursing
his wounded pride. Had it only been two nights ago that he had
found out that his girlfriend had been cheating on him? Angrily, he
grabbed his beer and finished it in one swallow.

It had taken two days for the denial to pass
and reality to set in. He had lavished Lacey with anything she
wanted, and that was certainly no small endeavor. He had invested
two years of time, energy and money into her. And this is how she
repaid him?

Curiously, while the beer had slowly numbed
his anger, it had shed some light on his many failed relationships.
Lacey was just the last in a string of ex-girlfriends. Like many of
the women before her, Lacey was a shallow woman with no ideals or
convictions. Her only goals in life seemed to be snagging
invitations to the hottest social engagements and keeping up her
many beauty appointments. Lacey was a vacant gold digger who only
used him for his status and money.

In the cold light of
reality, he had never loved Lacey. He had used her just as much for
her stunning good looks, as she had used him. If he searched deep
in his heart, he realized that he wasn't that broken up after all.
In fact, maybe he was even slightly relieved.
My God, hadn't he even been casually thinking about proposing
to her?
When he really thought about it,
it was really only the hurt of betrayal and the humiliation of
being cheated on that had him so upset.

The waiter finally came around and delivered
a fresh beer. Jake scanned the crowded bar as he took a swig from
the chilled bottle. He liked to come down to this unpretentious bar
from time to time. Here, he didn't have to worry about people
recognizing him. He could pretend to be just a regular guy, not a
member of the ultra-rich society where your every word and action
was judged by impossibly snooty standards.

While some of the guys dressed in cowboy
hats and boots looked like posers, at least everybody seemed to be
having a good time. Even the corny line dancing looked fun. Jake
had brought Lacey to this bar one time, hoping he might coax her
into trying the line dancing. She had spent only five minutes,
complaining the entire time, before she demanded to leave. Her
snobbish attitude and lack of adventurous spirit were just a few of
the many signs that he had ignored, telling him that she was not
the right woman for him.

Well, who needed her? Maybe Jake would have
a few more beers and find a woman more willing to show him a good
time. Maybe he could find a partner willing to teach him a few
dance steps.

Jake lounged against the
corner of the booth, scoping out the ladies. He was checking out
his prospects when he heard a group of women in the adjacent booth
laughing. He didn't make much of it, until he realized that in this
position against the wall, he could hear their conversation as if
he were sharing a booth with them. And what really caught his
attention was their conversation about
orgasms,
of all things.

Jake wished he could see the women, in
particular Krista, but the partition between the adjoining booths
was quite high. Instead, he listened and got quite an earful.

If a cowboy stud was what the ladies wanted,
then so be it, he would give it to them. He could use a good
mindless fuck. It would clear Lacey out of his system and be a much
more stimulating way to drown his sorrows. And Jake was no slouch
in bed like those guys who Krista had dated; losers who couldn't
even satisfy a woman. He smiled to himself in anticipation. He
would give this chick a wild ride that she would not soon
forget.

All that he needed was a cowboy hat. He was
sure that he could get one of these fake cowboys to trade their hat
for his Rolex. Then the ladies would be putty in his hand.

***

I had successfully steered the conversation
back to Sarah's new boyfriend, but I knew I wouldn't get off that
easily. A few more drinks and the girls would be dragging men off
the dance floor to meet me. And they would be too tipsy to notice
the look of disappointment cross over the guys' faces when they
suddenly met the fat friend. No, this was a recipe for disaster. I
needed to think of an excuse to escape before they got started on
their mission.

Sarah finally paused for a moment after
entertaining us with a long list of reasons why her new boyfriend
was so much better than the last. Glancing at my watch, I feigned
tiredness. "Oh, wow. It's already ten o'clock. I really should get
going - I need to get up early tomorrow. I've got … lots of errands
to run."

"Hold on a minute!" Jenna grabbed onto my
arm, not letting me go. "You're not going anywhere. You're just
scared we're going to make you talk to a good-looking man. Krista,
you sell yourself too short!"

Sarah nodded her head in agreement. "Plus,
you're never going to get laid if you spend all your time hiding in
your apartment. C'mon Krista, stay out with us. I promise we won't
be too obvious."

I rolled my eyes at them. 'Obvious' was an
understatement. "I'll stay out longer if you promise you won't push
any men on me. I'm just not in the mood tonight."

They both agreed, but I could tell they were
disappointed to be losing their fun night's project. I really
didn't want to go home so early and spend the night sitting alone
inside my apartment. I was enjoying my night out with my two best
friends, but I didn't want to be put in a position where I could be
hurt or humiliated by their well-meaning antics.