Evan Loves Curves

Too easy? Maybe. I felt my mouth form a restrained smile because I was taught to be humble.

"Yeah, well, I got in trouble anyways."

She laughed again. "You did? For what?"

"Because my ex- was so jealous," I said and shrugged again. "She even called Anna and Anna said that I was the perfect gentleman-"

"Yeah, I remember that, actually. We were at our friend's where we were staying and your ex- called her, I was there. Anna told her you didn't flirt with me at all and she was surprised and I was like, yeah me too! I was getting the cold shoulder left and right."

"That's not me, I'm usually the opposite."

"That's what I'd heard. That's why I was so frustrated, like what's wrong with me?"

"Sorry to frustrate you, Samantha." I took a big sip of Dortmunder.

"Yeah, I'm usually the one doing the frustrating," she said, almost under her breath, but when she looked up at me, her eyes had that devious glint.

"Hey, I can be a nice guy tonight. I've got two tickets on the floor for the show, and it looks like Anna can't make it-"

"Awww, too bad, I haven't seen her in ages!" Mock disappointment.

"You can come down with me, and I heard they just scan the tickets at the gates so if your friends want to come down, we can take turns or whatever. I've seen the Chili Peppers a bunch of times, so..."

"Really! Yeeee! That sounds so great! That is really nice of you."

"See?"

She laughed and had to tug her top up again. Jesus Christ. I took another drink so I'd have something to swallow when I gulped. She saw me looking at her cleavage and clearly didn't mind since she looked away and leaned forward more. Fuck! The tops of her big tits were tan, smooth, soft looking and so large they were bulging up from the seam at the front of her top, like there was just too much breast in there. And there was.

"I knew Anna was right all along, but the way you were just flat out ignoring me did make me wonder."

"Wonder what, if I was a good guy?"

"Or bad."

"I didn't figure out until I was already trying to ignore you that you liked, you know, the bad boys." It sounded pretty awkward coming out of my mouth.

"Oh really?" she was amused. "Well then, is that why you were actually ignoring me? You were trying to be a bad boy?"

Had she figured me out? I just laughed in response and let her chew on that for a while. She kept giving me that inquisitive look though, like she wasn't letting it go. So I decided to level with her again. "Well, I was ignoring you because I was afraid if I paid you any attention at all, my wife would divorce me before the end of the night. Although, hindsight being twenty-twenty..." I let that hang in the air and took a swig from my mug.

It wasn't a good joke, but the sentiment made her laugh like I was Robin Fucking Williams spraying off-the-cuff gut-busting one-liners. It wasn't quite a guffaw, but it did make her pull her top up again. So that was awesome.

"It turned out, we had a fight about something else, but then she brought you up and I was like, dude, I barely even looked at her, let alone spoke to her. So then she called Anna to ask, and even when Anna backed me up, she was still mad. Like it's my fault you're so hot. I just can't win."

She laughed more, and I was rewarded with another top tug. The realization that I had wanted her was loosening her up now. I wondered if I still presented a challenge. My plan was unraveling, but the way she was smiling and flirting made it seem like maybe that didn't matter. She was going to the show with me, I told myself. And that was really the first goal of the plan.

A little while later, we were talking about music when she got a text. She looked up to my left and smiled and waved, and when I slowly looked over, there were her two friends, near the door, waving.

"Ready?"

"Let's hit it."

The way every eye in the place turned towards us when we stood up gave me a little head rush. I waited for her to get her purse and then I lightly touched the small of her back, which made her look up and smile at me for just a moment. I felt like more than a million bucks.

Burley introduced me to her friends. The blonde was Kelsey and the black girl was Tanisha, and they called her Nisha. They beamed at me. Both were very pretty girls up close, even if they were small town and it showed a little in their style and clothes and their sort of nervous, what-am-I-supposed-to-be-doing demeanor. I was my warm friendly self, the one that comes out after a couple of drinks, even in such company, perhaps especially in such company.

"So, we walking?" Nisha asked as we got out onto the busy Buffalo street.

"Where did you guys park?"

"I drove," Kelsey said. "It's at that lot down that street and around the corner, it was eight bucks."

"Yeah," Burley said, "it's not far right, we were just gonna wa-"

"My car is over here, and my hotel is right across from the arena. It's a real small car, but it's got four seats if you want to squeeze in." They looked at each other. "It's a quick trip," I added, and then pointed.

"Holy shit, that white Porsche?" Nisha blurted. She did the one-syllable pronunciation of the classic German sportscar manufacturer. I laughed and nodded.

It was not quite as hysterical as one of those how-many-coeds-fit-in-a-VW Bug stunts, but with Burley and me in the front seats with our knees just under our chins and the ladies folded in back, we did our best to motor away in style. In fact, they loved it. They loved the car, being seen in the car, being seen with the guy who owned the car, the whole shebang. Traffic was heavy, and it took about ten minutes to go the half mile or whatever it was. We got lots of thumbs up and several dozen camera phones snapped pictures of us. I was glad that Burley didn't offer to flash anyone. Not that she seemed like the type, but she didn't not seem like the type. Also, not stalling the damn thing was a big accomplishment, and my left leg was tired from pumping that stiff clutch.

At the hotel, we valeted again and I took the girls inside to use the restroom in the lobby. They thought it was a very fancy hotel. Walking across the street with them was sort of special. I wanted to hold Burley's hand or put my arm around her, but just standing beside her was pretty cool. We went through metal detectors and the girls had their bags searched, then we were inside and that's where we split up. Burley smiled up at me for a second, like, now we are alone. I liked the look in her eye.

We went down on the floor. It was packed. They were playing old funk on the PA and there was energy in the building, as you would expect of a big Chili Peppers show on a nice summer evening. We stopped at the bar for drinks-a 24oz Dortmunder and another cosmo-and then made our way down the aisle. The crowd grew thicker. I looked back and reached out and she took my hand, fingers intertwined. Awesome. We kept going down closer and closer to the stage and I glanced back a couple times to see her brows raised higher and higher.

"Front row???" she exclaimed over the clamor. I grinned at her. Our seats were on the right hand side of the stage, but of course we were standing. There were security guys around but everyone else looked like high rolling Buffalo hipsters up here with us. Some very pretty girls, but none as sexy as Burley. Not even close. Everyone was giving her the side eye, and I was just along for the ride.

When RHCP took the stage, Burley shrieked and hopped up and down like a 4-year old at Disney World. I just watched her tits shake. It was mind-bending. The show was fantastic, as always. The guys were looking old, except for the kid playing all of John Frusciante's guitar parts. We were on his side of the stage, although Flea and Anthony came over here too. Flea even did a double take at Burley's cleavage during the breakdown of 'Californication,' then looked over at me and gave me that signature gap-toothed grin. Worth the money.

Burley was a really good dancer. She had the body control of a stripper, no problem. The way she could move her hips and shoulders in an almost mechanical, mesmerizing way, without even trying. I tried to watch the show, but I think she was enjoying putting on a little show for me.

After about an hour, I leaned over and yelled in her ear to invite one of her girls down and I would meet that lucky friend at the concourse where we split. She made a frowny face and clutched my arm, but then smiled and whipped out her phone to text. I admired her cleavage glowing in her Samsung's screen lighting before I took off. Nisha met me and thanked me as we exchanged tickets. I took a leak, got a bottle of water and a cosmo and headed up, gave Kelsey the drink, like a nice guy. The seats weren't that bad, about 6 rows up on A deck. I pointed to where Burley and Nisha were. We could see Burley's red top in the stage lights.

A few songs later, Kelsey got a text, so I went down with her, where we met Burley. After they exchanged tickets, I got Burley another cosmo and the two of us went back up to the A deck seats, holding hands. "These seats suck," she said, laughing. I could tell she was getting a little tipsy, but she wasn't slurring her words or anything.

She started touching me to get my attention and tell me things during songs. It wasn't anything important, just, like, "I like this part!" or "I love singing the chorus of this one!" and some other stuff that I couldn't make out over the din. Her hip bumped me and rubbed me, our arms touched, but I could tell that she was saying things to me just to have an excuse to touch me, so it sure didn't bug me. Then, Anthony announced that they had one more, and Chad broke into the shuffling grind of 'Blood Sugar Sex Magik.'

"I fucking love this song," she said, though it was more of a moan than an exclaimed proclamation.

"Me too," I said, because I did. An old favorite.

She started dancing. It was a strip tease dance. I couldn't even watch the show, I was just watching her, the way her huge tits moved in her dress, the way her hips swayed, and she finally noticed and smiled, but it wasn't a big smile, more of a, let's get serious smile.

I'm not sure where she put her drink down, but her hands were empty and she moved in front of me. She reached back and took my hands, put them on her hips, then she started to dance again, and her ass was just too big not to bump my crotch. And I'm sure that was the whole point, but I tried to be a gentleman.

That wasn't what she had in mind. She wanted to give me a standing lapdance. I glanced around as the arena was bathed in blue and red laser lights and decided to let her. Her hair even smelled sexy somehow, not just clean but aromatic in an exotic way. I inhaled deeply. It smelled like tropical flowers and spices. My cock was throbbing, my balls were gurgling, my heart started pounding. The feel of her round bubble booty against my crotch was fucking ridiculous. It felt like a big slice of heaven. I couldn't help but pull back on her hips, and she turned her head to look at me over her left shoulder, leaned back, lifted her mouth for a kiss.

As soon as our lips touched, her tongue invaded my mouth. It slid in, warm and slippery, and began to slide over mine almost insistently. I loved it. Her mouth tasted like fruit and vodka and I slid my tongue over hers and right down into the back of her mouth. She moaned and her whole body melted against mine.

This was the first time I had kissed another (besides my ex obvi, duh) woman in over fifteen years. I nearly blasted both balls into my jeans just from this. I tried to get lost in the moment, because it was a truly special kiss, but at the same time, there was a portion of my brain comparing this to all of the single best kisses in my lifetime. Reports were, it measured favorably. Top five. And there was another portion of my brain going crazy like a student cheering section when the home town walk-on kid wins the damn game at the buzzer. Certified bananas and just going bonkers.

But just the feel of her snapped me back. This was going down tonight.

Her hands were on mine, on her hips, and now she tugged my arms more tightly around her, and she lifted one hand so her hefty right breast rested on my forearm. She broke the kiss and stared in my eyes, breathing heavily, then licked her lips and turned back to watch the show, dancing and grinding more. We were standing so close that I could easily look over her shoulder to see her heaving cleavage. God her breasts looked absolutely stellar. So soft and pillowy. My cock was trying to get stiff and i could tell that she could tell, because she kept dipping down to where it was stuck down the left leg of my jeans to rub it up and down with her amazing ass. It felt great. And she moved my hands a little to help me feel more tit, and when she looked at me, her eyes were narrowed in pleasure.

The song built in tension, and so did the lap dance. By the end, she was tossing her hair around, really into it, and as the band went off for a thunderous closing, she turned around and pressed those huge tits against me, one hand on my shoulder, the other around the back of my head, pulling me down for another kiss. I could feel my balls convulsing but I somehow held back the floodgates. Her tits felt unreal-I'd never even been given a friendly little hug by a woman so fantastically endowed, let alone had them smooshed all over me like this-and her kiss was almost desperate, which was so unbelievably hot. My hands found her hips and it took all I had not to grope her ass. This was a family event, after all. With the cymbals and guitars and Anthony's voice roaring in our ears, we kissed, and it was like being in a movie. At the last final beat, the crowd erupted, and I pulled away. "Wanna go?" I said. She had to read my lips, even inches away, she couldn't hear. But she just smiled and nodded.

I took her hand and led her to the aisle, excusing ourselves and pushing past. Only a few others were leaving, most of the crowd would stay for the encore. We were gonna do our own. I kept looking back at her, like is this really happening, and she kept smiling and biting her lip, like, yeah. We made it down to the outer concourse area and we stopped so she could text Anna and Nisha. The air was much cooler here, which was nice because I was sporting a pretty serious boner and had no way to hide it, and any drop in temperature would help for a moment. I briefly wondered what she messaged her friends, or if it was a foregone conclusion what was going on, and how often did something like this happen.

"Ready?" she said.

We held hands and walked out, the evening was cool-much quieter but far from quiet-and busy.

"My ears are still ringing," she laughed.

"Yeah, mine too. Need a smoke?"

"I quit."

"Me too."

"But maybe."

"Me too."

It only took a little while to get to the correct corner and cross the street. There were others doing the same thing, a small string of concert goers heading to the hotel. Just as we got to the revolving door, we heard a roar from deep within the arena and knew that the Peppers had taken the stage for the encore. But then we were inside. Most of the people went to the right in the lobby to hit the bar. I took Burley straight to the elevator. It dinged and the doors opened immediately, which was great because I felt like if I said anything else to her, it would ruin it. The elevator walls were mirrored and it was empty. Burley went inside, watched my reflection, put her hands on the mirror in front of her and arched her back.

As the doors slid closed behind me, I took her hips in my hands and pulled myself against her. She moaned. My hands slid up her belly to finally cup those huge jugs, and she moaned louder, eyes still on mine in the mirror, and as I squeezed, she closed them. God, her tits felt otherworldly. Soft over some firmness and just with so much mass and meat to them. I looked at them in the mirror as my hands lifted and made them bulge up more. I have large hands and they were indeed much, much more than a handful. She pulled her long mane of dark hair over to the right and turned her head around to the left to kiss me over her shoulder again.

This was the kiss she had wanted to do at the show, and she was pushing her ass against my dick and had her hands over mine, helping me feel her up. Her mouth was just open, soft, hot and wet, her breath was so sexy, the way she was breathing was just so sexy, little moaning gasps into my mouth. I could feel my fingers and toes tingling as all of the blood left my extremities headed for the most important one.

She only half broke the kiss, her mouth still on mine, our eyes open to slits in the bright lights of the elevator as she murmured, "Hit the button for your floor."

Oh. Right. I pulled her with me, which made her giggle, and I reached over and hit the button for the top floor. The elevator dinged and did its lurch. Burley gently pulled away from me. I could see her handprints high on the mirror behind her. She was smiling, biting her lip, her hair sort of in her face in a messy sexy way. One crimson-nailed fingertip reached up for the lacy hem at the neckline of her top and started tugging it down.

I just watched. How long had I wondered what her breasts looked like? How many times had I estimated size, density, tone, areola width and shade, nipple length? Like wondering what a Ferrari would be like to take for a canyon blast but only reading about it in a magazine or watching lousy youtube. She tugged more and more breast came into view of my starving eyes, and I got a special thrill when it didn't take long for the edge of her areola to peek. It was large, wide. I liked that. And it was a rosy shade, not pink, and I liked them darker. Teasingly, she then covered her breast with her hand-I should say partially covered, as it was just too much and there was plenty of ripe flesh showing for me-before finally tucking the top underneath and letting her immense right breast swing free.

Somehow, naked beside its sister still tucked and bulging into the tight red halter, her bare breast looked even larger than I had imagined. In most other senses, my imagination had been pretty spot on. How oddly interesting that you can look at a woman and judge by things like her skin, her nose, the amount of tone in her thighs and arms, the color and size of her mouth, what she might look like naked. I just somehow knew her areolas and nipples would be large and not pink, and that her breasts would sag a bit, and point slightly outwards. Cantaloupe sized, easily. Good lord.

I came over as though drawn by electro magnet. I don't recall bending or stooping, but I must have because in a moment, her nipple was in my mouth, her fingers were in my hair, I had a handful of her ass cheek and she was filling the elevator with moans. I just tried not to suck too hard. The elevator dinged. I heard the doors slide open, then Burley took a sharp breath and straightened, jerking her top up, making the tops of her tits smack my mouth. Then I saw in the mirror an elderly couple, the man registering shock, the woman already looking disgusted. I put my hand on Burley's waist and dragged her out, muttering my apologies.

I took her down the hall and as the elevator doors closed and it dinged, we looked at each other and laughed like school kids getting caught frenching in the library. I fumbled for the key card. As I tried to stick it in the slot, Burley leaned back against the door and reached for the front of my pants. Her palm found the base of my cock and rubbed downwards, down my pants leg, her eyebrows seeming to rise in accord with how far down her fingertips got until they touched the rim of my dick head more than halfway down my thigh.

"Oh my god," she breathed, "I heard you were big but this is...big!"