HIS CHUBBY STEPDAUGHTER

CHAPTER 006: THE RED DRESS

MICHELA;

“Be serious, Jemy,” I muttered into the phone, holding it between my ear and shoulder while I pushed the closet door wider. “The last time that lady was here she practically called me round.”

Jemy’s laugh crackled through the speaker. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It is!” I blurted. I yanked out one outfit after another, tossing them onto my bed in a messy pile. I needed to look better tonight. I was tired of the insults, especially the ones that came from Tracey’s sharp tongue and demeaning stares.

I remembered the way she had smirked when I reached for a slice of bread during that awful dinner.

“You’re no different from a tennis ball and you still… eat carbs?” Her words had sliced right through me.

They still stung whenever I thought about them. First, she was trying to take Miles away from me, and then she had the nerve to shame my body in my own house.

But Miles had stepped in.

“Tracey!” His voice had been sharp and protective. “You will apologize to Chela immediately.”

Her smug expression had faltered. She mumbled a half-hearted sorry and stayed quiet for the rest of the meal. And I made sure to lift the corner of my lips in warm smiles all through the remaining part of that dinner.

Miles hadn’t brought her back since that night. Standing in front of my closet now, I replayed the moment in the kitchen afterward. I had been clearing the dishes when Miles walked up behind me. His presence filled the small space. He leaned close, his deep voice low and warm against my ear.

“You’re the prettiest, hottest nineteen-year-old I’ve ever seen.” His voice warm against my ear. I dropped the dish in my hand and spun once only to find him two steps away. “Tracey was… simply jealous.”

Those words had melted me on the spot. They erased Tracey’s cruel comments, leaving me warm and aching.

It wasn’t just what he said… it was the way his eyes had lingered on my lips, dark with something he tried to hide.

That night, after everyone left, I had locked my bedroom door, slipped under the covers, and replayed his voice in my head. My hand had slid between my thighs, rubbing my swollen c**t in fast, desperate circles while imagining his strong hands on me. I came hard that night, toes curling into the sheets, biting my pillow so no one would hear me moan his name.

“Are you there?” Jemy’s voice snapped me back to the present.

I blinked and realized my thighs were pressed tightly together, trying… and failing… to ease the fresh ache building between them. Heat flushed my cheeks.

“Yes… Yes, Jemy,” I stuttered, reaching deeper into the closet.

“There should be a red dress in there, remember?” Her voice rose with excitement.

I spotted it immediately. The bright red fabric shone under the warm golden light of my bedroom lamp. I pulled it out and held it up. The material felt soft and stretchy in my hands.

“Yes, but it’s yours, not mine…” I said, turning it slowly. “And the last time I wore it I felt…”

“Pretty,” Jemy cut in. “You looked really pretty in that dress. Did you ever wonder why I never asked for it back? Because it suits you better than it did me.”

A small chuckle escaped me as I balanced the phone on my shoulder and stretched the dress out to check the size.

“So you just gave it to me without saying anything?”

“Exactly. The dress is super stretchy. Tracey should see you in something other than jeans and an oversized T-shirt.”

She was right. Almost everything in my closet was safe… baggy tees and comfortable jeans that hid my soft folds and thick curves.

I hesitated, running my fingers over the smooth red fabric. I remembered the day I wore it home from Jemy’s, Miles had looked at me differently that evening. His eyes had followed me across the room, lingering just a second too long. Even when I explained that flour from Jemy’s baking had ruined my original shirt, I felt his gaze on my ass as I walked away.

I almost asked Jemy if wearing the red dress was really the best idea, but then I heard it… soft, wet sounds of lips smacking on her end of the line.

It was Friday night. She was clearly with her manfriend, lost in a hungry kiss. I quickly pulled the phone away from my ear, a pang of envy twisting in my chest. I wished it was me, desperately, passionately, being kissed like that by one man.

I set the phone down on my dresser and peeled off my clothes. The red dress slid over my skin like a second layer.

According to Jemy, this dress looked best without a bra. I took mine off, letting my full breasts settle naturally against the soft, stretchy fabric. The material hugged me perfectly, supporting my curves while still showing their shape. It brushed at mid-thigh, the subtle slit on one side revealing a teasing glimpse of skin when I moved.

I turned slowly in front of the mirror. The dress clung to my waist, accentuating my wide hips, and highlighting the soft bounce of my breasts with every breath. My long hair fell over one shoulder. I looked… sexy. Feminine. For the first time in a while, I didn’t want to hide. I wanted to go over to that dining table and grab what was mine.

A fresh wave of heat rolled through me as I imagined Miles’s reaction. I pictured his eyes darkening the way they had earlier when he caught me almost bare in my room.

I pictured him stepping closer, his big hands sliding over the red fabric, feeling the warmth of my body underneath. My n*****s tightened against the dress. I pressed my thighs together again, trying to calm the growing ache, but it only made it worse.

I wanted him to look at me tonight. I wanted him to forget about Tracey completely. I wanted his hands on me, his deep voice calling me “Kitten” or “Daddy’s girl” while he…

I shook my head, trying to clear the dirty thoughts, but my body refused to cooperate. A small, excited smile played on my lips as I smoothed the dress down one last time. I couldn’t wait to see how Miles’s eyes would travel over me during dinner.

The red dress outlined my curves perfectly, and I felt ready… nervous, but ready.

I couldn’t wait to see Miles’ eyes all through dinner.