Page 7 of Curvalicious

Really? Her real name was Mia. For some reason, I hadn’t thought it was, but now that she had revealed it, I realized she’d been so naive in giving her real name. Not only was she a virgin, but she was completley innocent about the real world. I felt bad for taking advantage of her, by giving her so much money.

I shouldn’t think like that. I never forced her. She had done this of her own freewill.

“But we can’t stay in touch, and I can’t pay you another million for the night.”

She nodded, sitting up. “I understand. I wasn’t expecting you to. But I want to continue satisfying you, again and again. I just need you to show me how.”

A smile crept across my face as I leaned closer, gently stroking her chin. Her innocence captivated me, replacing my need for alcohol. We could stay, but we had to be out by seven. As she mentioned, she wouldn’t require further payment, but as I pressed my lips against hers, ready for another round, I wondered if I would willingly offer her more money, not just for the morning but for another night.

I had to find a way to regain emotional stability. I would enjoy her body until the early morning and then get ready for my move, now that my house had sold. The change of scenery and my new job might help me feel better, just like this night with Mia had done.

Epilogue

Three Months Later….

Mia

Iwalked into my first lecture at college, filled with excitement and confidence. The auditorium was bustling with students, and the air was filled with conversations and the sound of papers rustling.

After the memorable night at Club Curve, my perspective had undergone a transformation. I no longer viewed my body as a curse, but rather the opposite. I no longer worried about showing skin or fretted about shopping for clothes. Instead, I focused on how I felt wearing them, prioritizing my comfort and confidence over societal expectations. The newfound friendships I had formed in my first week at USC had given me a sense of belonging and empowerment. Lily, in particular, had been incredibly supportive, and I had expressed my gratitude to her.

Just as the class was about to begin, someone caught my attention as they entered the room. It was Ethan, the man I thought I would never see again. My heart skipped a beat, and a rush of emotions washed over me.

He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that emphasized his strong physique. His dark eyes held an air of intensity and mystery, drawing me in with their magnetic gaze. As for myself, I had embraced a more stylish and professional wardrobe, no longer feeling like just a woman, but rather a young lady, especially after the night at Club Curve. I had transformed not only my mindset but also my closet to reflect the new me.

Watching him, hearing him spell his name on the board and announce that he would be our Business Management professor made me realize that perhaps he needed that night at Club Curve more than I had at the time.

Throughout the lecture, he remained focused on his computer and the projector, never once diverting his attention to the audience. I tried smiling a few times, hoping to catch his eye, but apart from the initial introduction and his reasons for why we should stay in the class, his gaze remained fixed on the screen.

For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, recalling the sensation of his fingers on my skin. I’d never expected to see him again, but there he was, right in front of me, and all I could think about was wanting more.

He didn’t have to pay me.

I would do it for free as I no longer needed the money. I’d already paid my tuition fees and even helped my parents pay off their mortgage by sending funds anonymously, making it seem like a gift from a distant relative. They had tried to trace the source but to no avail. It was remarkable what money could accomplish—a fabricated identity and the time to become the woman I had always desired to be but never thought I could achieve.

As the lecture drew to a close, I mustered up my courage and approached him. A mixture of joy and anticipation coursed through my veins as I walked up to him, catching his attention.

“If you want a repeat performance, Professor, you know where to find me,” I winked at him, as I drew closer.

Ethan’s expression flickered with surprise and perhaps a hint of desire, but then his face contorted into a mix of concern and seriousness. He paused for a moment before revealing the truth that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I’m your professor!”

Ethan’s dark eyes bore into mine, his expression a mixture of caution and longing. A flicker of conflict danced across his face as if he grappled with his own desires and the responsibility of his position. The tension between us was palpable, hanging in the air like an electric charge.

I took a step closer, my voice barely a whisper as I leaned in. “I know it’s risky, but isn’t that part of what makes it so thrilling? I’ll be your forbidden fruit.”

His voice, husky yet filled with restraint, responded, “Mia, we can’t… It’s not appropriate.”

“But Ethan, there’s something between us. Something undeniable. Can you honestly say you don’t feel it, too?”

He didn’t answer, but his dark eyes spoke volumes. Having had an alcoholic uncle, I recognized the signs that most people wouldn’t unless they had experienced it up close. The thermos he’d placed on the table wasn’t filled with water or coffee; it was likely vodka, the alcoholic’s paradise that masquerades as water and has no scent.

“You seem like you could use some help, and I’m willing to offer it. The money and the time we spent changed me for the better. I want to do the same for you.”

“How do you know?”

I put my finger to his lips, remembering the softness of it all over my body.

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