Drunk In Love: The Complete Series: BBW BDSM Erotica by Sasha Livingston Page A

anyway?” he’d said through slurred lips. That was the beers talking. It was always like him to turn things around to deflect the point.
    Sitting at home in our apartment staring at walls and crying, I came to a realization. If Trevor was fucking someone, then I could do it, too.
    A glance in the mirror revealed puffy eyes from crying, and wounded self-esteem pushed me to leave the house. Tonight, instead of doing something, I was looking to do some one .
    Shaking my head from those memories, I followed the direction of Brent’s grunting and the sound of equipment moving. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with my appearance for once.
    Unlike my usual workout attire, I made sure that I wore the tightest black yoga pants I owned, and my top matched perfectly. My double-D breasts bounced as I walked, as if they were ready to jump out the top of my tank top. I had a black jacket in hand just for show. I had no intention of covering up tonight.
    Pulling my auburn hair into a ponytail and applying light makeup finished off my masterpiece of seduction. Usually I didn’t care what I dressed like coming to the gym, but seducing Brent would take some added props.
    My bra was the best push up that money could buy, but my panties were absent. I wanted him to have no barriers to me tonight. If it was legal to walk in the gym naked, I would have done so.
    Before leaving the house, I’d swallowed a full glass of wine to calm my nerves. One glass was fine, but it was my fifth glass of the day, and now as I walked through the gym, the liquid courage was propelling my plan. After all, Gatorade and water weren’t strong enough to get me through this workout.
    Walking past the juice bar, I saw Brent sitting on a weight bench, his bare chest drenched in sweat. Of course he would be doing sets while he waited for me.
    He was the exact opposite of Trevor. He was a force of brute strength, with muscles built from days molding his body in the gym. He’d spent so much time there that he became a trainer to mold fat girls like me into works of art.
    “Hey, you. I’m glad you wanted to come in. Great way to stay devoted.” He smiled, revealing perfect teeth. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn they were veneers or something crafted from a dentist.
    His eyes glimmered when he saw me, traveling up my black yoga pants and thunder thighs, making his way up my mini-muffin top that I tried to cover in a loose-fitting tank top. When Brent looked at me, I always felt naked.
    “You look nice. I can see our sessions are paying off,” he said, giving me a wink as he grabbed hold of the pull up bar.
    Grunting, sweat beading, and muscles bulging, Brent pulled himself up like it was routine requiring no effort. I was impressed, wondering if he was as good in bed as he was working out. I wished he was lying under me, grunting and flexing his muscles as he slid deeper into my pussy.
    I turned my head, acting as if I was preoccupied with my shoes, but actually, my face was so hot that if I needed to collect myself before I turned into a tomato.
    The sweat beaded off his body as he did his sets, pulling himself up as the bars squeaked. It was almost the imitation of a bed squeaking under bodies doing the horizontal mambo. Was Brent thinking what I was thinking? Or maybe I was reading too much into things.
    I thought of his compliment and all of the elliptical machines and treadmills he put me on. The running always seemed to last for hours. He was probably just being nice; we had only been working out for a few sessions so far.
    But that was the reason I chose him. His flirting had not been missed by me. All the compliments, lingering hands on my body, and the electricity when he touched me wasn’t a coincidence.
    Trevor didn’t seem to notice me transforming. Or maybe he didn’t care. When he drank, I went from his beautiful girlfriend Samantha to Sam the fat ass.
    I had always been fat. Growing up, my mom sent me to Weight