Island Curves (A BBW Romance) (3 page)

On the ship, our perfectly made-up hostess,
Charlene Laird, had a cell phone pressed to her ear. I envied the
fact that she was clean, wearing a pair of freshly laundered shorts
and a light blue blouse. Her legs went on for miles, tanned and
shapely, with gently curving calves. We sat at the stern on
specially layered seating, with the taller people in the back and
the shorter contestants at the front. The sound of water lapped
against the hull, and the floor swayed gently beneath us.

“We’re almost ready, people,” said a
crewmember.

I glanced at David and found his attention on
me. He’d worn a green t-shirt and shorts, his hair a tawny mess and
his expression bland, yet…strange. I began tingling horribly,
wondering why on earth I would have such a reaction to someone so
irritating. He was in his element, with his buddies, who thought
they were in total control, manipulating the other players into
submission. As far as I knew, I was staying tonight, but I was
still nervous and distrusting about the entire situation. I had
seen this game over the years on television, and I knew I had to
prepare myself for a possible blindside.

“We’re on in ten, nine, eight, seven…”

I sucked in a breath and prepared to face my
fate.

“Welcome to the first Judgment Panel of the
season,” said our hostess brightly. “It looks like we’re in for
some rain tonight.”

As the small talk commenced and questions
were asked and answered, I felt splashes of water on my back. We
were going to get doused at any minute by a torrential downpour.
The humidity made breathing difficult. It was like trying to inhale
water.

“David, who do you think deserves to go home
tonight?”

He grinned and shook his head. “It’s rather
obvious.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind about
who you’re voting out?” asked our hostess.

“Most people have.”

“What did you base your decision on?”

“I wanna see the strong go to the end. No
offense.” He glanced directly at me. “I’m sure there are some great
people here, but this is about being equal to the challenge, and,
if you can’t compete and win, then, you really don’t deserve to be
here.”

“I noticed you looked directly at Marissa. Is
she who you’re talking about?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Marissa. How do you feel about being singled
out?”

“I did the best I could. I’m not the most
athletic. I know there’ll be other challenges, and I hope I can
stay around long enough to prove myself.”

“Well, said. Now it’s time for the vote.”

After everyone had written down whom they
wanted off the show, I sat with Loren, and she held my hand. “It’s
gonna be fine, honey. Don’t worry.”

We were getting drenched from the rain; my
hair was soaked. My shirt clung to my breasts, a pink bra clearly
visible beneath the white material. I wondered how that would go
over with the primetime audience?

“I’ll read the votes.”

Charlene pulled out a card and read Ramon’s
name, then my name, then Ramon’s. When it came down to the final
vote, Loren squeezed my hand, and when Ramon’s name was uttered, my
shoulders slumped in relief.

Loren hugged me. “See girl. I told you, you
had nothin’ to worry about.”

Ramon said his goodbyes and grabbed his bag,
boarding a small motorboat, which would take him to shore.
Apparently, there was an exclusive resort on the other side of the
island.

“Well, I see the battle lines have been
drawn,” said Charlene. “This is when the importance of who you
align yourself with comes into play. You don’t necessarily have to
be the strongest to survive, and this vote proves it. See you in a
day.” She stood under an overhang, dry and happy, her hair
perfectly coiffed.

One of the directors announced, “We got it in
one take.”

“Have fun paddling back,” said Charlene,
grinning impishly. A rumble of thunder threatened in the
distance.

I resisted the urge to give her a dirty look.
We climbed into the catamarans and headed for the shore, while
being pounded by fat drops of rain. I’d never been so miserable in
my life, and, as we dragged the boats onto the beach, we returned
to a camp with a smoking fire and a shelter leaking water like a
sieve. It was going to be a long, miserable night.

By some stroke of luck, the downpour
lessened, the fast-moving rain clouds leaving the island. The men
worked to get the fire going, using wood that had been stashed
under the shelter. We gathered around the blaze trying to dry out.
I sat near Loren, while others were on makeshift chairs and plaited
palm fronds.

“Dangit! One of my braids came loose.”

“Where?”

Loren held up a piece of hair. “Can you fix
it?”

“Lemme see.”

While I messed around with Loren’s hair,
David stared at us, his expression blank, yet attentive.
Conversations were going on, while the cameramen hovered with their
night vision enabled. I’d changed into a dry shirt, which was
unbuttoned, revealing the top portion of my cleavage that could
hardly be contained. Most of my friends who had breastfed lost a
portion of their boobs to the process, resulting in deflated and
sagging breasts. Mine had engorged even more, which was alarming.
The same thing had happened to my mother. Tonight they felt sore
and itchy, pushing against my bra.

Matt and Greg appeared carrying green
bananas, which they passed around. I gratefully accepted one and
shared it with Loren. They weren’t ripe, but it didn’t matter.
Starving, my stomach grumbled in protest and demanded more.

David and Doug were talking.

“I finished the Iron Man triathlon in
October,” said David. “Came in sixteenth. I was tenth the year
before. I plan to hit Oahu again this fall. I also wanna climb
Bryce Canyon, this summer. I went with some buddies last year to
Wyoming to climb Devils Tower. It was fucking amazing.”

Ashley stared at him adoringly. “I’m scared
of heights. There’s no way you’d get me on top of a mountain.”

While I braided Loren’s hair, I felt his
attention on me, and I wondered why. I could have cared less about
his athletic aptitude or all the rocks he’d climbed. “There. I
think I got it.”

Loren patted her head. “Oh, thanks, hon.” We
had found a piece of driftwood earlier today. It functioned like a
wide toothed comb. “Lemme do your hair. You got the prettiest head
of blonde hair I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a mess.”

“Sit right here.”

I knelt before her, sitting even closer to
the fire, which felt wonderful. My stomach was momentarily
satisfied, having been filled with banana, and, now, my hair was
about to have the tangles taken out.

“I totally did like cheerleading for four
years. I was a back spot,” said Ashley. “Cheer camp kicked my ass
every summer.”

“My sister was a cheerleader,” said Chris.
“Her muscles were bigger than mine.”

While Loren untangled my hair, I smiled into
the fire, feeling blissfully happy. I loved having my hair played
with; the feel of fingers running through the strands was a
sensual, spine buzzing sensation.

“This hair is thick, girlfriend. I’d kill to
have your hair. You don’t even want to know what I go through with
mine. It’s so weak from straightening.”

“I’m sorry, Loren.”

“It’ll be a mess when I get back. My
hairdresser’s gonna flip when she sees it.”

Again, David’s eyes were on me. While Loren
ran the makeshift comb through my tangled strands, he seemed to be
watching every movement of her hand. His attention would then
return to my face, my neck, and lower. My nipples, ultra sensitive
tonight, hardened from his appraisal and pushed against my bra. The
heat of the fire and the feel of someone’s hands in my hair had
thoroughly relaxed me. The only thing missing was food. I craved a
juicy hamburger and…hot sex. I couldn’t remember the last time I
had enjoyed a wild night of lust with an amazing guy. It had been
far too long. I met David’s gaze, my tummy tingling.

This guy wanted to vote you out tonight. He
did vote you out! He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, Marissa. I know
he’s totally your type, but you’re not allowed to think about him
like that. No way, no how.

That night, as the cameramen disappeared into
the jungle, presumably to be picked up by production and taken to
the crew camp, I tried to make myself comfortable on the knobby and
hard branches we had strung together for a bed. I was exhausted,
not having slept much the night before. After getting up and
relieving myself behind a palm tree, I came back to find that
everyone had re-positioned themselves. The only space left on the
platform was on the end, next to David. I groaned inwardly, cursing
myself for having to urinate.

I sat on the wooden planks and sighed,
sliding my arms into the waterproof jacket. The hard wood pressed
against the bones in my back, producing a less than ideal sleeping
situation. How was I ever going to get used to this? There were
three inches before I rolled off the edge. I hated being on the
end, preferring to be cocooned in the center. Turning, I made eye
contact with David and felt a twinge of arousal and sensual
recognition that was beginning to worry me. It was a good hour
before I found a reasonable position, and, even then, my back
ached. After tossing and turning again repeatedly, strong hands
grabbed me, and I was suddenly pressed to the length of an overly
muscular man.

“Quit it,” he growled.

“Sorry. I’m…not comfortable.”

I was so close to him, I could smell his
body, the natural sweetness filling my lungs. His breath fanned out
over my forehead.

“Go to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”
How the fuck am I gonna sleep
now?

I tingled everywhere, my pussy pulsing, being
entirely uncooperative and demanding. I turned from him, offering
up my back, his arm draped around my midsection. There was an inch
of space between us, until he pulled me to him. The unmistakable
feel of his erection pressed against me, my shorts a poor barrier
to something so urgent and demanding.

Oh, shit!

His breath was on my neck, fanning out hotly
over my skin, causing delicious goose bumps to form on my arms.

“We should take a walk,” he whispered.

“We should?”

“Yes.” He got up from the makeshift bed and
grabbed my hand.

I wanted to refuse; I had been about to
object, but…he pulled me to my feet and I found myself on the beach
with the moon overhead, its glow glistening seductively off the
gentle waves. We were serenaded by a cacophony of croaking toads,
bleating from the foliage of the jungle.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere. Here.” He sat on the sand and
pulled me to him, his hardness pressing into my bottom. “Take this
stinking jacket off.”

“David!”

“Just get it off.”

Once the offending item had been removed, he
unbuttoned my shirt, and I found myself on my back, the sand a
comfortable resting place.

He tugged on the bra. “Take it
off…please.”

“I’m not sure what you think is going to
happen, Romeo, but I’m not used to being manhandled like this—” His
face was buried in my breasts, the rough feeling of his beard
chafing me. “Oh-my-God!”

“These are so amazing.”

He pressed the globes together and suckled
each nipple in turn, which had me gasping with pleasure. I was so
sensitive tonight that I jerked and thrashed, moaning at his
touch.

“No…I can’t…do this.” My objection sounded
breathy and hollow.

Instead of pushing him away, my fingers
threaded through his hair, and my panties became shockingly damp,
my arousal a creamy deluge, moistening the material. To illustrate
this point, his hand slid into my shorts, straight to my center,
where he began to finger me, plunging in deeply, wetting himself
with the evidence of my need.

“You have to stop,” I gasped. “I don’t even
like you.”

“You’re not my type either.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“No, really…you…have to stop…”

His lips were on my neck, biting, kissing,
and sucking. It would be a miracle, if I remained unblemished
tomorrow. He yanked my shorts down, along with the underwear, the
clothing thoughtlessly discarded. My hands dove under his shirt,
feeling the contours of his chest, each pectoral muscle a marvel of
construction, and the nipples were firm little pebbles. Pushing
against him, he fell onto his back.

“Just hold up there, Cowboy.”
You have to
gain some measure of control over this situation, Marissa.
Now!

“God, suck me. Fuck me. Do whatever you want
to me.”

I should have told him to go to hell. He
voted me out tonight. He was a spoiled little boy who lived for the
thrill of adventure without the burden of having to hold down a job
or be responsible for anything other than his climbing gear.

Enjoy him, Marissa. It’s just sex. You know
you want it.

I shouldn’t.

Why not?

Cause…I don’t know.

Take him, woman!

I could, couldn’t I? Who would know, if I
enjoyed this scrumptious man? We’re alone on the beach. There are
no cameras.

“Oh, the hell with it!” After giving myself
permission to indulge in the forbidden, I yanked on his shorts,
releasing a long, hard phallus, which twitched and stirred and
glistened with wetness. “Oh, my God.”

He sat up suddenly grabbing me. His hands
held my face. “You’re so…not my type.”

“I can tell.”

Our eyes met, and, for a long, heated moment,
our breaths mingled. The energy of the attraction buzzed between us
like an invisible force field.

“It’s just jungle insanity,” I murmured.
“None of it is real.”