A Love Refined Ch. 01

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Ideas about a woman's beauty are lovingly changed.
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mejau71
mejau71
1,756 Followers

Author's note: This tale is a lengthy denunciation of society's interpretation of what beauty is in a woman, and how one woman's own misconception of elegance is erotically altered for the sake of unconditional love. Readers are encouraged to be open-minded. And above all else, enjoy. After all, this is an erotic tale of romance and delight.

For as long as I can remember, my life and my cravings have always favored women. From my first serious relationship when I was in college, to even when I was a young girl, my mind was captivated by the appeal a woman had. I can even recall spending several nights in my room when I was younger, staring at women's fashion magazines and the enchanting allure of the models that graced each and every page.

Throughout my teens and high school years, I made as many friends with the more popular circles of girls. Not that I was a self-absorbed girl, but typically, the more pretty girls ran in the same circles, so I did all I could to be a part of that. I became a cheerleader, ran for student council, and was generally liked by my peers. I loved fashion and dressing up as any typical teenage girl would. But being a mixture of Latino and French caused me many self-identity crises, and the more I spent time with other girls, the more I became relaxed and comfortable in whom I was. Little did I know that I was placing the groundwork for a life full of exotic and erotic escapades.

In college, my body filled out to its naturally inclined size. Being blessed by my Spanish heritage, my bronzed flesh became quite curvy... my hips grew wide, as did my bust size. It took a couple of years of struggling with countless diets, but I eventually accepted my busty frame. And many of the girls I slept with throughout college favored my healthy breasts and curvaceous backside. I let my hair grow much longer than it did during high school, and by the time I graduated college, my dark hair fell right above the top slope of my ass. I fondly recall my 36c-24-38 measurements from wearing my awesome dress at my senior formal (which of course, I secretly took my girlfriend as my date).

Now flash forward to my early 30's. I'm happily working as a flight attendant for a major carrier, and living here in Chicago in an awesome condominium overlooking Lake Shore Drive in downtown. After college, I devoted many years to exploring myself in several different relationships with women. It was during this time, I discovered numerous fetishes and countless cravings I possessed. Luckily, each relationship brought something else out of me that I never knew existed. I discovered an abundant fixation for ass... became addicted to using strap-ons, beads, anything that would enhance the marvelous act of lovemaking between two women. From dating older women, to even dating a college student when I was 30, I welcomed many women into my empty arms. Not that I'm bragging by any means, but the experiences made me appreciate the art and prose of lovemaking, and the beauty each woman possesses. It became a thirst I couldn't quench. At times, I was nothing more than a wanton beast wanting to find it's next female victim for ravishing. I grew into a extremely sexual woman, always daring to push the envelope a little more... always wanting to push my tongue in a little deeper... bite just a bit more... open my heart just a tad.

My tastes spanned the horizons... from slender figured to the big beautiful women, old and young... as long as their heart was into the moment, I was in Nirvana. I happily accepted myself and who I was, yet still holding onto my profoundly fashionable, and very feminine nature.

And all that was about to be thrown out the window.

I just returned from a three-day schedule that had me in California and the southwest when I received a call from my dear friend who was a fashion photographer. I had just gotten out of the shower, and wrapped in my towel when the phone rang. Apparently, my photographer friend's young assistant had just quit, and left him without an assistant for an upcoming shoot he was hired to do over at the Ritz Carlton hotel. Having been his friend for over five years, he always called on me to fill in for these countless binds he would get in. I wanted nothing more than to spend my first night home bathing in my lavish new garden tub. Taking away one of my most beloved rituals made me quite caustic.

"Oh, come on Meredith!" Darryl begged.

"No!" I shot back.

"Darryl, I love ya, but this is my time." I replied.

"Look." He answered. "I'm making over five grand for this shoot. I'll give you one grand of that if you just help me this one time!"

"A grand, huh?" I said.

Now he had my attention. Usually, I'd be lucky enough to get room temperature entrees at one of his functions.

"Yea." He replied. "Plus, there's going to be a lot of hot women there, and I mean hot, sweetie."

"Oh, don't do that to me, you bastard." I replied.

I hated it when he would tempt me like one of his knuckle dragging male friends. But Darryl has always respected my homosexuality, and never interfered, even though he thinks that 'my body is great motivation for having children'.

"Sorry, sorry!" he answered.

I sighed, realizing he truly did need my help. Plus, I'm a sucker for hard luck cases... male or female.

"Okay, what time?" I said.

"Seven. I'll have a driver come and get you." He said, relieved that I had yielded to his request.

"Wait-what's the dress?" I asked quickly.

"Black tie." He answered.

"You owe me big time." Was all I said before hanging up.

I growled in frustration, mumbling as many obscenities about Darryl as I could as I made my way into my walk-in closet. It really wasn't all that bad considering I cherished every opportunity I could get to dress up. Plus, even though I got mad at Darryl for trying to tempt me with the 'hot women' tip, I selfishly kept that in mind as I picked out my dress for the evening.

"Black tie, eh" I murmured to myself as I found the dress that would do the trick.

My long black tube dress. Strapless, elegant and the material I just adore. It stretches to fit every curve of my body. And the slits up the side can give a quick glimpse of my tanned thighs to the wandering female eye... just in case. A nice diamond studded choker, and diamond earrings to match.

Later...

We arrived just before the main event. All I knew was that this was an exclusive worldwide modeling competition. Okay, I could handle that. Gawking all night at models from around the world wasn't so bad I suppose. But when I saw the various marketing materials around the entrance hall, I was appalled.

"Darryl, what the hell is this?" I demanded, pointing at one of the offensive ten-foot posters.

"What?" he asked with a moronic expression.

"This... this thing?" I angrily shot back, pointing out the barely clad woman on the poster.

There on the poster was a massive, fearless looking woman adorned with huge, billowing muscles on every part of her body. Granted, I was open minded about many things concerning women, but this was something I just couldn't get.

"What?" he exclaimed.

"This... this girl is a man!" I nearly shouted out.

"Keep it down, will ya? I'm getting paid a shit load for covering this." He said.

"You told me these women were 'hot'. You didn't say they were freaky looking Arnold Schwarzeneggers!!" I whispered with a most vehement voice.

"What? They are hot, Mimi! You of all people should appreciate that!" he replied.

I placed my hand on my forehead in repugnance. What on earth did I get myself into? I gave this up for a night in my sleek new marble garden tub?

"Just... just get away from me." I spoke in a flux, walking away from him.

This seriously turned me off. How could anyone organize, much less promote a show that displayed revolting women who looked like men? To me, this was just silly. Why would a woman do such a disgrace to her body? They were meant to be curvy and radiant for any man or woman to appreciate. This was something beyond anything I had ever known.

I stepped outside to gather my senses. There, I saw a couple having a smoke, and I quickly asked them for one with a flustered face. They happily agreed as a brief conversation was struck up.

"Pretty wild, eh?" asked the man.

"Yea, you could say that." I replied, taking a long puff.

Both the man and woman could tell I was not happy. Then Darryl rushed out to dispute my initial reaction.

"Mimi, come on. It's just a show. Don't freak out on me." He begged.

"You should have told me." I replied, almost blowing smoke in his face.

"I said they were hot, and I meant it. A lot of people here believe that, and you can't fault them for that." He continued.

"Do you think they're hot?" I asked with my arms crossed and eye brow crooked.

"Well... in a way, maybe they are... I don't know." He answered. "Yea, I think they are."

I huffed, spinning around from him as I took another drag. This was absurd. Darryl came around to face me.

"Come on, let's just go back in there and do the job. In two hours, it'll all be over with and you'll have a thousand bucks in your hand." He said, trying to soothe my apprehension.

"Oh great, make me sound like a whore." I said, knowing full well I didn't really mean it. I just wanted to get him fired up too.

"Jesus, Mimi..." he said, finally put out. "I'll be inside by the water fountain getting set up. You wanna help, I'll be there. If not, here's some money for the limo home." He said, placing a fifty-dollar bill in my hand before storming back inside.

Maybe I was a bit harsh. Here I was a woman who championed diversity and upheld homosexuality, and I'm the one getting upset over women who like to be fit.

Perhaps he was right.

I walked back in, and found Darryl. Putting on my best pouty face, I humbly asked for his forgiveness. It didn't take long since he always liked seeing my lower lip stuck out, and my big brown eyes at their full attention. We laughed and hugged, then picked up the equipment to go inside the main hall for the show. I didn't agree, but for my friend, I was going to uphold my word.

The lights came down as the stage lit up with loud, pounding music. Darryl took his camera to shoot the dozens of glistening, muscular women who strolled out on the stage dressed in skimpy bikinis. I looked away, overwhelmed by the huge muscles I saw on their arms and legs. I didn't gag, but it was seriously shocking to see just how big these girls were. Many of them looked like they had massive rocks on their shoulders... their legs, deeply carved in tone muscle. Their backs chiseled with deep defining grooves of power and strength. All of them posed for the opening ceremonial shot as I did my best to smile through it all. I thought to myself "I've seen and done a lot in my 33 years, but this takes the cake."

The next performance, I finally sat down and prepared Darryl's next roll of film and batteries. This routine focused on definition and style by each of the competitors. The crowd behind me was really into this as by their gestures and applause. I sort of felt out of place, maybe being the only normally shaped woman in this hall. But I was in the front row, so I couldn't really tell who was behind me.

Darryl would often come, whispering his comments to me as he exchanged film and lenses.

"Did you see the one from Brazil?" He asked with a sly look on his face.

"God, she was fantastic." He replied.

I nodded with a forced smile.

"You really don't think any of these women are sexy?" he asked.

"It would take a lot to convince me otherwise." I whispered back.

"Well, you never know. You could meet the 'one' for you here tonight." He said with a grin, going back out to shoot more photos.

Little did I know that my friend was indeed right.

Later...

I did all I could do to keep my mind occupied throughout the show. Now the dance portion of the show started, and I readjusted myself in the chair for another tiresome display.

But the lights came down low as smoke machines spewed out thick smoke across the stage. Deep blue lights illuminated the stage as a towering bodybuilder sauntered out, dressed in a thin sheer white material. Her arms bowed out from her sides like a man... and she was fully nude. Her entire body burnished in a fine layer of baby oil, highlighting every ripe muscle she had. But there was something totally unique about this bodybuilder. Perhaps it was the seductive music that was playing, or the mood lighting... I wasn't sure, but this presentation... this woman had my full attention.

She was unquestionably huge. I don't mean tone or fit, but every muscle she had was swollen with power and might. Her arms were carved with muscle; her shoulders looked like two massive boulders perched atop her frame. And her legs resembled dozens of gigantic tree roots curled around her. Her abdomen, ruggedly angular and revoltingly smooth. And her chest, not fully flattened by the muscle, held two very nice, fully shaped breasts. Obviously fake, but I didn't care. She was the largest woman I had seen thus far... and the most captivating. My eyes desperately followed her every move and every breath with heightened curiosity.

Her stage act had her tediously dancing about the stage in long, sweeping motions of her arms and legs. Her lengthy saffron hair flattened across her mighty shoulders as she curled into a ball on stage, twisting her arms out as if they were trying to grasp for something. She rolled onto her side, expanding her entire body out in a magnificent display of her muscles. I was spellbound by this woman's graceful performance.

But somehow, her position on the stage became closer to me. But honestly, I didn't mind. I was finding myself more and more captivated by this Herculean goddess. Now just a few feet from my seat, this woman did the splits while reaching skyward for some invisible sign of acceptance. Just then, her eyes fell to mine... my heart jolted, almost stopping as our eyes made contact. I found myself gazing into an unknown realm of resplendence... her mouth agape and body unconfined, I somehow connected with her... She just seemed to exude confidence in her every move... her rhythm held me captive as her hair then covered her face. I wanted to see more of what this angel of power looked like... I had to see more.

Her arms thrust out to the audience in a sudden move. She hauled them back to her torso, rising up with her arms still held out from her side... my God; I didn't expect this at all. Here I was, completely controlled by this woman, whom just hours before, appalled and terrified me. Now, I was holding on to each gesture of her sizable flesh... hoping that she wouldn't leave anytime soon.

Two young girls dressed in harlot costumes then strode onto stage, each one taking one of the bodybuilder's beefy arms. The girls were more commonly shaped, retaining a mystic quality to their actions. They carried armor and swords, thick and heavy chain mill as they began dressing the bodybuilder in it. As they did, the bodybuilder stood, almost in a trance... as if she was savoring the attention. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her head leaned back-- arms courageously perched out from her bluish illuminated body. The sight was purely intoxicating.

"Days of long ago... in the Dark Age, women as well as men were called to war." A dramatic female voice boomed out across the theater's sound system.

The young harlots placed thick metal gauntlets upon her flesh. Steel knee guards, violently strapped her to legs... a crude, rusty breastplate strapped to her heaving chest as a brutal, yet dominating steel helmet was lowered on her head. This dressing in itself was almost as seductive as the dance was moments before.

The bodybuilder raised her arms in a commanding stance as the harlots gingerly grazed her sculpted muscles with finesse and devotion.

"Gone were the women's labels of caregiver and nurturer..." the narrator spoke. "Now, she was to battle the enemy for what she loved, and whom."

I couldn't believe the sheer ecstasy in this depiction. The warrior bodybuilder took each of the harlots into her arms, and cradled them as if they were her life-long lovers. The commanding presence of this warrior held all of us in the audience willing prisoners.

"These female warriors loved as any other would... they were exalted as conquerors in their countries... strength in arms, stamina in flesh..."

I held my breath, seeing the warrior grasping the curvy young harlot in her arms. And I was jealous. I couldn't believe what I was thinking, much less contemplating. I told myself to stop, squelching the notion that even a hint of attraction was felt for this muscular creature. Yet there was something... something far deeper than I had ever realized. I could be seduced by power. I have always believed that you can seduce a man with power, but a woman with words... and here I was, falling under the spell of this female barbarian. I wanted nothing more than to bed this woman, to be held in those sturdy arms... to be loved by such inspiring splendor.

"No, I can't think about this." I told myself, looking away from the stage.

My tastes in a woman favored a more natural physique. In my years of sexual seduction, I have found an abundant breast and broad hips to my liking... yet the struggle inside me commenced without my permission. Why was I finding myself drawn to a woman who would transform her body into brawn and vigor? Was this a suppressed fantasy similar to my ones for older women, or for African American women? I always felt that I wanted to bed as many types of women before, but this was unique unto itself.

After the show...

"Wanna go backstage and meet the girls?" asked Darryl.

I couldn't wait.

Getting backstage was a blur for me. In fact, I couldn't tell you how I got back there. All I knew what to do was to meet the woman who catapulted me into an entirely peculiar haven of sexuality... perhaps she could unravel this developing enigma of fascination and intrigue for me. I just had to find out more about her... it was kismet.

I swam throughout the mass sea of muscle and nudity. My senses spun as the possibility of making love to one of these divine women raced through my head. I couldn't recall the last time I felt so driven to libidinous madness by a woman. Several alluring glances were shared with other bodybuilders as I suddenly felt Darryl touch my arm...

"Meredith, I found her for you." He graciously said.

Holding my breath, I twirled around to catch two of the most blazing sapphire eyes staring directly at me. I felt as if a million-ton boulder squashed my heart at that very moment... there she was. The woman who had at the moment I saw her.

Her brawny arm lengthened my way as a knowing smile graced her beautifully chiseled face. It was as if she already knew the vast thoughts that crossed my mind about her and I. Standing there, dressed in a thinly threaded black bikini, my eyes filled themselves with the majestic sight of her mammoth body. I could plainly see the rigorous magnitude of each muscle. Thick layers of shiny baby oil glazed her smooth, deeply tanned flesh. Within seconds, I felt an instantaneous connection with her...

"Hi, Meredith-I'm Alexis. I heard you enjoyed my show?" she said in a raspy erotic voice that I found sexier than ever.

I immediately threw myself into "seduction" mode, curling my left eyebrow with a slow tongue across my lower lip. I put on the best "fuck me" face as I have done to countless other women before Alexis. Hopefully, just perhaps... Alexis would take the bait and follow up with one of her own gestures of allurement.

Her hand easily swallowed mine without question as our eyes consumed each other in a manner only known to us women. I could see a hint of temptation... a fleeting thought of possible lovemaking between us.

mejau71
mejau71
1,756 Followers