The Ugly Sister (7 page)

Chapter 17

Transformation

I do something I’ve never done in my entire life.  I accrue a balance on my credit card that I won’t be able to pay off at the end of the month, something my fiscally responsible father drilled into me never, ever to do on penalty of crushing debt and eventual bankruptcy.

But it’s worth the risk, because I just dropped the money on a bunch of lingerie to celebrate the fact that for the first time ever, I love the way I look naked. 

I’m sure some women out there lose a bunch of weight and then fixate on something else they don’t like about themselves, but not me.  I’ve always despised being fat—it‘s the one thing I’ve always deeply and truly hated about myself.  And now that’s it’s gone, I finally feel free in a way I’ve never felt before.

I could admire myself in the mirror for hours, and I do.  Hey, after all the years I’ve spent hating myself and all the suffering I’ve done at the gym for the past five months, I’m allowed to be a little vain.  Plus I can’t eat anything delicious anymore, so I might as well enjoy the upside.

I expected my boobs to shrink, which they did.  But I still overflow a C cup, and my butt hasn’t gone anywhere either. 

Since April has always been a skinny waif, I figured that when I lost weight, I’d look the same way. But it turns out we have totally different body types, and while the rest of me has shrunk down to a size 8 and all my unacceptable bulges are smaller and sleeker, I still have curves, and I imagine I still will when I shed another two sizes and reach my final goal.

In the meantime, I buy sexy lingerie for the first time.  A lot of it, even if it’s not going to fit for much longer.  I simply can’t resist.  I pick out a lacy red bra and panty set, a delicate pink bra and thong and several slip nighties in various colors. They’re nothing like the nighties Brian used to buy me.  They’re completely sheer and leave nothing to the imagination.  But my piece de resistance is a black bra and thong set with a matching garter belt, which looks like something a gorgeous celebrity would wear in a movie. I have no idea who will end up being my first fling after Brian, but he’s a lucky man with a lot of boners in his future.

And I’m ready for him.  Beyond ready.  I haven’t had sex forever, and even though my sessions with Rio have left me constantly hot and bothered, I can’t get any relief. 

Lately I’ve been exaggerating my stretches, lunges and forward bends to show off my new figure during our sessions, but he’s completely tuned me out. The other day I was putting my butt in the air provocatively while stretching my calves, and when I looked over to see if he was sneaking a peek, he was sniffing his armpit. 

Rio and I are on the mat working on planks when the gym manager comes over.  He knows me well since I’m a regular fixture here, though he started paying a lot more attention to me once I dropped below a size ten. 

“Looking good, Ember!” he says.  “Hey, I have something to ask you.  Can we put a before and after shot of you on the
Total Impact
website?”

I come up from my plank and wipe my forehead with a gym towel.  “Sorry but I’d rather not.  I’m kind of shy about having my picture plastered all over the place.”

“Aw, but it’ll be such good motivation for other people!”

And good advertising for the gym at the expense of my dignity.
  “I don’t want people looking at my fat picture and thinking about how shitty I used to look.  And what if I gain the weight back and look shitty again—that would be even more embarrassing.”

“Then don’t gain the weight back,” Rio says.

“You know what I mean,” I say.

Rio shrugs.  “I have my picture on the site.  What’s the harm?”

“What if someone I know sees it?”

“So?” Rio says.  “They’ll think, ‘Wow, there’s December Snowe looking hot as hell.’ What’s wrong with that?”

“I just don’t like to be the center of attention, so I’d rather not have a picture of me made so public.  Sorry.”

“It’s not like you’ll be on the home page,” says the manager. “It’s on a little side tab with a hundred other before and after shots.”

“And my name will be listed next to your picture,” Rio chimes in.  “So anyone who sees it will know I’m your trainer and can contact me. You’re an example of my best work.”

“Come on Ember,” says the manager.  “Help Rio here make a living.  The guy has bills to pay.”

“Ugh, fine!  But I want a month free at the gym so I get something out of this.  I have bills to pay too, you know.”

“Deal,” says the manager.  “Rio, make sure you get a before picture of her soon before she changes her mind.”

Chapter 18

Photo Op

I’ve had many fantasies about bringing Rio back to my place.  But in none of them did he come over to retrieve one of my old fat pictures so he could post it on a website to get business. 

“Come on,” I sigh as I lead Rio into my apartment, making no attempt to hide my annoyance.  “I’m not even sure I have a good fat picture.  I was always careful to take pictures at flattering angles.  If I looked fat in a picture, I’d destroy it immediately.”

“I’m sure you can find something,” Rio says as he sits down on my couch and rests his ankle on his knee.  Looking at his large body taking up half my couch cheers me up a little, and I pull out my laptop and sit beside him. I scroll through some poorly organized files of pictures, tilting the laptop so he can see the screen.

I click on a folder, and of course the first picture that pops up is Brian and I at our high school prom. 
“Who’s that joker?” Rio asks, and I laugh in spite of myself.

“That’s my ex-husband,” I say.  And taking a page from him, I don’t elaborate.
More prom pictures come up.  There’s a whole series of Brian and I at an after-party sitting on a ratty couch in someone’s basement drinking beer out of red Solo cups.

“So this guy was your prom date?”

“Yeah, and my ex-husband—I wasn’t kidding about that.  See?”  I pull up another folder entitled “Engagement party” and bring up a picture of Brian and I standing under a banner that declares, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT!

“You were married? How do I not know about this?  You’ve been holding out on me, December.  Here I thought you were this sweet innocent girl, and you’re…a jaded divorcee?”

“Actually the marriage never went though so technically, I didn’t get divorced.  We got married and changed our minds before the paperwork was filed. But I have been married before, so it counts in a way.”

“I think you need to explain how this happened,” Rio says, taking over the computer and flipping through my photos. 
I tell him the whole sordid tale of Brian dumping me at the altar while Rio clicks through countless photos with rapt attention.  I even include the part about April upstaging me with her tiffany blue dress, and how my goal to be a size four is so that I can fit into it.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t marry this twerp, December.  You’re a late bloomer.  Now that you’ve bloomed, you can do much better than this guy. He probably doesn’t have a single muscle in his entire body.”

I cut my eyes over to Rio, who’s staring at a picture of Brian and I at the beach with disgust.  I wonder if he’s jealous and find myself hoping he is. 

“That was such a romantic day,” I tell him. “It was the Fourth of July and we hung out on the beach all afternoon, then watched fireworks that night. We kept kissing each other during the grand finale.”

He grimaces. “I don’t know what could be enjoyable about having one of those skinny, noodle arms wrapped around you, but hey. Not my business.”

I giggle inwardly, loving that this big, beautiful man is jealous of dorky old Brian. 

“How about this one?” he asks, stopping at a full body shot of me at the boardwalk wearing a yellow sundress.  “For the website.”

I don’t look particularly hideous in it, and my face looks pretty enough, so I agree and send it to his phone.

“Now let’s get an after picture,” he says, standing up and fiddling with his phone. “Do you want to take it over there?” He points to the far wall.

“You can’t take my after picture with a phone camera,” I say,” “It’ll come out all grainy.  If you’re going to put the picture up in public, at least make sure it’s good.  Let me get my digital camera and we can make sure the settings are right.”

I locate my camera and then check myself in the mirror, but I’m unhappy with the way I’m dressed.  I’m wearing workout clothes, no makeup and a pony tail.

I’ve worked hard for this picture, and suddenly I want to make it count.

I look around my room for something better to wear.  My eyes settle on a Victoria’s Secret bag in the corner, and I get a crazy idea.

Chapter 19

Stripped Bare

I take a deep breath and give myself one last glance in the mirror.  I’ve been trying to get Rio to notice me as more than a client for way too long, and now I’m about to pull out the big guns.

I’m wearing my black lace bra, thong, garter belt and stockings, and I’ve even added a touch of make-up and fixed my hair so it falls over my shoulders. 

When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I feel a tinge of doubt, wondering if I’m taking things too far.  And yet I know it doesn’t matter.  Because even if this is a horrible choice and I’m about to make my most humiliating mistake to date, the truth is, I don’t have a choice at all. I’m completely incapable of stopping this thing with Rio, whatever it is, until its run its course and I’ve seen it through to the very end.  Whatever that end may be.

I take a fortifying breath and step into the living room.

Rio is looking at the computer in his lap, one foot perched on the coffee table and an arm draped casually across the top of the couch. 

When I shut the door behind me, he turns and looks up at to me.  The only thing that moves are his eyes, which slowly rake up and down my body before meeting my gaze.  And when he does, there’s a hungry, predatory gleam in them I’ve never seen before. I take a step back, only to feel the cool wall against my back.

I make an awkward little “ta da” gesture that resembles jazz hands, realizing I look more dorky than sexy, and suddenly feeling completely exposed and utterly stupid for throwing myself at someone with zero interest in me.

Rio continues to stare at me with hooded eyes, then he shifts slightly in his seat.

“You like to tease me, don’t you December?” he says, carefully setting the laptop on the coffee table without breaking our stare.  “I’ve warned you time and time again that this is not a good idea, but you just don’t listen.  You just don’t listen.  And now this.”

  He stands up and I’m struck by how large and physically imposing he appears in my small living room.  He seems to suck all the air out of the room as he slowly moves toward me, sending my heartbeat racing and blood rushing to my ears.

After closing the distance, he gently raises a hand and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.  His lips part as if he’s going to say something, and there’s a question in his eyes.  But he doesn’t say a word. 

Instead, he cradles my face in his hands and kisses me so gently and with such restraint that I’m completely undone.  And the only thing I know is that every cell in my body is vibrantly, brilliantly alive with wanting him.  This beautiful man who’s kissing me with heartbreaking tenderness.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs in a husky whisper against my lips.  “You know that?  You have no idea, no idea how fucking beautiful you are.” Then he presses his lips to mine even more softly this time.

After wanting him for so long, his calm, steady restraint is more than I can stand.  I’m a fiery ball of need and I melt against his body, kissing him with everything I have.  Crushing my breasts against his rock hard chest and tangling my fingers in his hair.  He responds by deepening the kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth and humming low in his throat.

Then he moves his mouth down and weaves a scorching trail of kisses of down my neck.  I tip my head back and sigh at the exquisite torture.  The combination of soft lips and sandpapery stubble burning a trail of fire on my oversensitized skin.

Then his hands grasp the globes of my ass and I feel myself being lifted up, my back pressed against the wall as he continues to rain kisses along my neck and collarbone.

I wrap my legs around him and smooth my hands over his shoulders and biceps, savoring the feel of his powerful body suspending me in air.  Delighting in the way his hard chest presses against mine, his strong arms supporting my weight as if it’s nothing, and the rich male scent of him all around as his mouth moves over my throat.  The gentle rhythm of his hips pumping ever so slightly as something hard and massive presses against the softest part of me.

For months I’ve wanted this man—craved him—and now that it’s happening, and it feels even more amazing than I ever imagined.

His lips move lower and he pulls the cups of my bra down, worshiping my breasts with his mouth.  As his tongue moves over my nipple, liquid heat shoots straight to my sex and my clit throbs.  I grind myself against his hardness with abandon, needing him inside me to take away the vast, aching emptiness.

He meets my eyes and gives me a half smile, “Patience, December.  Good things come to those who wait.”

“I don’t want to wait, I want to come,” I plead, breathless with wanting him.

He groans low in his throat and then carries me to the bedroom.  The next thing I know, his weight is pressing me into the mattress and his lips are on mine. His hand travels possessively down my body, clutching and kneading, while his knee nudges my thigh and parts my legs.

I respond by wrapping my legs around him and pulling him closer to align my sex with his.  I want to be as close to him as possible, and I want it now.  I reach a hand down and…

“Holy shit, Rio.” I blurt out as my fingers trace the massive column in his athletic shorts.

He rolls to the side as I continue to move my hand over him, taking in his substantial length and girth.  He leans back and peels off his shirt, revealing the most beautifully sculpted chest I’ve ever seen.  His pecks and abs are perfectly defined and at the center of his chest is the slightest smattering of fuzz. Then he lowers his shorts, and my breath catches in my throat.

Rio’s cock is enormous.  The head is almost as big as a doorknob, and the shaft gets even thicker as it extends toward the base.  It’s not heavily veined but smooth and straight with thick ridges up the center.  It extends up past his belly button, pressing tight and flat against his belly. 

I glide my hand down his length until I reach the small nest of black curls at the base, then I stroke up again, admiring how small my hand looks in comparison. 

“I know I’m big,” he says apologetically. “I’ll be careful not to hurt you.  We’ll make sure you’re ready first, okay?” 

It’s all I can do to nod as he traces his thumb over the hem of my panties, then slips it underneath the elastic.  His fingers play lightly along my flesh, sliding along the slick folds.  “Looks like you’re almost there,” he says in a low voice. “You’re wet for me.  I like that.”

Then he stands up beside the bed and proceeds to undress me with agonizing patience.

First he slowly unclips and peels off each black stocking, carefully folding them and before setting them on my dresser. Next he lowers the garter belt and slips it down my thighs, and then he peels away my bra until I’m wearing nothing but a small black thong.

As he lies down beside me, I can’t take his eyes off his massive cock.  I reach out to touch it again, but he grabs my hand and pins it over my head.  Then he captures my other wrist and holds them both in one hand.  He gazes into my eyes while his free hand traces my wet slit through my silk panties. Back and forth, back and forth his fingers move until I spread my legs wide and whimper for more.

He kisses my forehead, my hands still pinned above my head as he slowly peels my underwear down.  I assist by sliding and wriggling to get out of them, then lifting my throbbing sex to meet his fingers.  He slides a finger into me easily, then adds a second, then a third, moving them in and out while his thumb makes tiny circles around my clit.  The friction and the stretching sensation are magnificent, but it’s not enough—I need more.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Let me look at you.”  He lets go of my hands and slides down on the bed.  Suddenly shy, I bring my knees together but he stops me, spreading my legs wide and staring straight into my sex.

It’s the first time a man has ever looked at me so intimately, and I feel nervous.  But when Rio looks back up at me with lust contorting his features, puts his hand on his cock and pumps it, all my fear fades away.

He moves lower on the bed. “God you’re beautiful,” he says, his breath a hot whisper against my sex. 

I close my eyes and moan when his tongue makes contact with my clit and his fingers spread me open.  He gently licks around my opening, his tongue moving over every inch of my parted sex. I hear a soft moaning and realize it’s coming from me.  It mingles with the soft wet sounds of Rio’s lips and tongue moving over my sex.

He puts his fingers inside me again, first one, then another, then another.  And I know that he’s stretching me, preparing me for him. 

The sensations are exquisite, and I feel an orgasm beginning to crest.  But before it swells and crashes over me, Rio stops abruptly and pulls his hand away, ripping a cry of frustration from my throat.

“Not yet,” he says sweetly, moving over me on the bed.  “I’m going to take you now. We’ll come together, okay?”

“Please—“ 

I feel his wide tip nudge my opening and begin to slide in.  Another delightful stretching sensation begins, but it’s more intense than the one he created with his fingers.  He slowly glides forward, entering me inch by delectable inch.  And just when I think I can’t take any more, I feel him slide another inch into me.  He’s above me now, leaning on an elbow, his eyes fixed on mine.  A lock of hair falls over his forehead, and once again I’m struck by how gorgeous he is.

“You okay?” he asks as he pushes into me a little more without breaking our stare.  “You’re really tight.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

I just nod, letting out a small gasp as he pushes forward the rest of the way.  He doesn’t move then, just remains perfectly still while my body grows used to accommodating him.

I feel myself relaxing around him, and then he begins a steady rocking motion.  I hold onto his shoulders and close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his shaft gliding back and forth over my inner walls.  I can tell by the tension in his muscles that he’s holding back, but I’m afraid to give him permission to pick up the pace, so I just smile up at him and say, “You’re so fucking sexy.”

He smiles back, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”  He continues to glide in and out of me slowly, and I’m awash in sensation.  Floating in space and time as he fills me over and over and over.  Gradually he picks up his rhythm until he’s pistoning in and out of me.  I hold him tighter and cling to him, allowing the blissful sensations to blossom and expand.

His breathing grows thicker, coming out in short pants, and his movements more frenzied.  When he leans down and captures my lips, a massive wave of pleasure breaks over me, and keeps breaking again and again.  I scream my orgasm against his lips, and then he presses his face into the curve of my neck and groans, and I feel his cock spasm and jerk as he drains himself into me. 

When the spasming tapers off, he collapses on top of me, and we lay tangled in a heap, panting and spent. 

I absently run my hand over his bicep, coated with a cool sheen of sweat.  He raises himself on an elbow and looks down with a mischievous half smile. “My sweet December.”  He shakes his head.  “Look what you’ve gone and done now.”