A Toast to Lust

LS Morgan

Table of Contents

Lust

When Ava Mendez woke up that morning, she had no idea how her day would roll onto a giant loop, ending up by putting her into very unconventional situations.

About the author

Copyright@2023 LS MORGAN

Cover: Dani Moreno - designer.danimoreno@gmail.com

Revision: Bel Góes - isabel.goes@gmail.com

Translator: Teresa Valério Lopes

Digital Layout: Odile Silva Dias

Literary Advisory: https://www.seulivro.com.br

This is a piece of fiction. It is intended to entertain.

Names, characters, places and events described
are just figments of the author's imagination.
Any similarity between them and any corresponding aspects in real life is purely coincidental.

This is a modern text, where colloquiality was entirely preserved, even though it might not yet be accepted by the standards of the cult language. However, it is the most used in people's daily lives, and this brings writing closer to orality, and preserves the informal tone with a lighter reading as a result.

Morgan, LS

A Toast to Lust. 1Stst edition,

Independent Publishing - 2023/

Tale

Brazilian Literature

Erotic novel

COVER IMAGE

Cover image – Image rights acquired – Canva Concession.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Storage and/or reproduction of any part of this work by any means – tangible or intangible – without the written consent of the author is prohibited. Copyright violation is a crime determined by law No. 9610/98 and punishable according to article 184 of the criminal code.

Lust

A Toast to Lust

ABSTRACT: Ava Mendez thought she would have a day just like any other, but a secret photo shoot and a strange onlooker put the beautiful woman face to face to a man who is seductive and unyielding in what he ultimately desires: her.

— Erotic tale from the “Sins” series —

When Ava Mendez woke up that morning, she had no idea how her day would roll onto a giant loop, ending up by putting her into very unconventional situations.

After taking her breakfast and putting out water and food for Sunshine, her pet bird, she picked up the backpack and the large makeup case. She walked for a long while to the subway, looked at her watch, and was sure she had plenty of time to get to the building for the photo session.

“You’re late!”

She certainly wasn’t, but she had no intention of confronting her boss.

“If you were not so good at what you do, you would have been fired already.” And she went on with her critical and piercing look: “If it took you so long to get here, at least you could have dressed a bit better.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hicks.” She didn’t really feel she should apologize, but there was that hierarchy that she could not go against, and this attitude of professional “submission” was sometimes necessary.

“It doesn’t matter. Organize your stuff on the mirrored countertop, as I want everything ready for when the models arrive. We have a full day ahead; we will shoot the cover story and the essay for the website. Let’s go Ava! What are you doing, looking at me like a stump? Fast forward!”

Ava ran to the countertop and promptly took out her working material.

“Don't worry about that bitch. She is possessed today”, Jana said, resting a sisterly hand on her shoulder.

“And do you remember the last time she wasn’t?” Ava answered.

“She is worse today because of the cover.”

“We have done the cover so many times before, what’s so special about today?”

“I’m just the photographer, not the snitch.”

"Isn’t it the cover with top model Jeanny Cardel?”

"That's the version for the gossip managers on duty, to make the competition believe, but I know for a fact that the one to be photographed today is Axel Burns.

“Our new big boss?”

“Himself.”

“But, since he bought the magazine, nothing has been said. One issue was published already, and nothing has been exposed to the public, either about the purchase or about him,” Ava noted.

“Yeah… It seems now he has agreed to be the cover story and they are going to make a whole special editorial.

“How strange, but at least we know why the witch Keka is on the edge, much above her normal bitterness.”

“Yes, our big boss will be here, he’s going to be photographed, and everything must be 100% perfect. You got it, right, Lion?”

“Of course, dear. You know I am your best assistant.”

“You’re the best because you’re the only one,” Jana joked.

“Have you seen him? I heard he is sexy,” Ava noted.

“I haven’t seen him, but someone said he is super sexy,” the photographer went on.

“Yeah, like a sin, he and also his assistant,” Lion said, smiling. “So bad they are both straight.”

“How so? Did you see Mr. Axel?” Ava questioned.

“Just a glimpse. I was going through the lobby, and I saw them. In fact, I first saw that cute round small ass of his assistant and only then did I notice Axel.

“You don’t waste your time, huh? Already on the lookout for the boss and his assistant,” Jana said, smiling.

“My dear, I’m not a saint.”

“Do you get paid to work or just to chat?” Kenya shouted from the opposite side of the hall.

Quickly the place was filling up with people. Fashion professionals and overly skinny models arrived, with their silky hair and pin-shaped bodies where any piece of clothing would fit perfectly. Ava looked at them and knew she was out of that pattern. She wouldn’t let herself be bothered by that, nor were the models uncomfortable with her being overweight, for the most part Ava was very well treated by them. She was only teased or indirectly approached about her plus size body by her boss or a couple of the magazine directors. However, she was very good at her job, and few had the ability and the know-how to do makeup as she did. Ultimately, Ava became the “dearest darling” of the models, and how could a magazine or director be against that?

The morning was super busy, everything non-stop, and when they had time for a lunch break the performance director called her.

"Stay here on the set. They're going to deliver Cardian's looks, and I need you to get them and hang them in the racks.”

Ava wanted to say that she was not a fashion assistant and that her job was only make-up related. She wanted to say that she was starving and had been standing for six hours non-stop, but she held up, and just answered:

“It’s fine. After that, can I have lunch?”

“I hope you brought a snack. You won't be able to leave until everyone returns, or do you believe I'm going to leave those dresses worth hundreds of dollars at the mercy of thieves?”

“But...”

“But... what?”

“Nothing, Mrs. Hicks.”

“Just as I thought. See you in two hours, dearie.”

When the "wicked witch of the west" (as Ava secretly called Kenya Hicks) was gone, she wondered if she could look hard enough, among all the costumes’ paraphernalia, and find a pair of magic slippers that would take her to a faraway place, perhaps a magical, sumptuous castle. She smiled. This was too much imagination from fantasy books.

Ava picked up her cell phone, opened the app, chose her meal, and placed her order.

Axel Burns knew that something had to be done, but he had been to several doctors and health experts, and after so many tests they all mentioned some psychological or emotional problem, nothing of a physical nature. It was easy to say when neither of them had to face a flop at every attempt at sex.

Nothing in his life had changed, apart from that, obviously. He had not changed his eating habits, he had not been through any major trauma, he continued to work out regularly, only suddenly he could no longer “function”.

Precisely him, the person who would be an ideal “poster boy” for the sin of lust, was being prevented from doing what he loved most: sex.

When it happened the first time, he imagined it was too much alcohol, but then a second, a third, a fourth time... Six months later and he was still suffering from his serious problem.

He tried to have sex with acquaintances and complete strangers, with beautiful models, call girls, luxury whores, with strangers in swinger’s houses, nothing could get him excited enough to make his down floor companion to rise. Everything he had done before (from the most “common” to the most daring sex), was impossible today and the anguish kept consuming him.

Axel tried everything from watching the cheesiest to the most sophisticated porn movies, from amateur sites to those specialized on unusual fetishes. Nothing would rise his cock.

He consulted a Brazilian holy man, a Pai-de-Santo, who said he had been ‘worked on’ by an ex-girlfriend, charged him good money to undo the santeria and made him put his personal assistant on the lookout for a live black chicken to perform the ritual. Maybe those birds were common in his home country, but not in New York. Nevertheless, his assistant found one and the job was done. Money thrown away and a poor bird dead for nothing.

He sought out a famous guru in astrology, who ‘prescribed’ yoga, meditation, and a strange diet based on lots of saffron. As a result, he got the same limp dick, but gained such a dislike of saffron that even the sight of the yellow color on clothes made him sick.

He also went to psychologists, psychiatrists, and holistic therapists, but nothing and no one could solve his problem.

Now, convinced that it was probably some kind of divine punishment, he decided to dive into his work, or rather, to dedicate himself to its expansion – including the purchase of a famous magazine.

If he could not enjoy sexual satisfaction, he would thrive professionally, increasingly focused on making his wealth and his companies grow. He must focus his mind on numbers, ideas, acquisitions, and not in the longing for a hot, wet pussy around his cock.

Cardian's clothes arrived, and Ava arranged them on the racks. She had already eaten everything she ordered from the Chinese restaurant and dropped her eyes on the display of her cell phone. It would take, at least, one hour for the team and her boss to return, a boss who probably had some special dislike for her.

Ava always mentally rethought everything she would say or do when Mrs. Hicks was around, but she was always badly treated, she would always receive more reprimands than others, and she would have to listen to those direct comments about her way of dressing or her weight. No, they were not subtle comments, but cruel direct insinuations.

Ava tried to ignore her boss's demonstrations of fatphobia, but she didn’t have an iron heart, and every now and then she felt bad, sad, unappreciated, and humiliated. Of course, she always tried to disregard it and remember that she loved her work, that she was recognized by many in the fashion world and that no one would make her give it up, no matter how many jokes or insults she had to endure from the wicked witch.

She looked at the pile of glamorous dresses and garments, none of which would fit her, and wondered why it was so hard to find clothes that would look beautiful for her size. All right, she knew she couldn't afford to buy ‘haute couture’, but even if it were possible, she was sure she wouldn't find her number for sale. She wondered if they only manufactured up to size 44. No, certainly not. Maybe they had stopped at number 38. There would never be anything above 44.

Ultimately, her plus-size clothes were only available at large department stores or in shops dedicated to large sizes. However, in both places, the pieces were always poorly finished and with outdated styles. She couldn't understand why they thought that every fat woman would only wear a flower dress. She didn't even like patterns!

Fat. She never had a problem in assuming herself as such. Her friends sometimes said "fatty", but she didn't like that "-ty", she liked her own wholeness, full, beautiful, complete, without diminutives.

Ava felt like a beautiful, hot woman, a legitimate BBW: a Beautiful Big Woman.

A BBW like her was not a woman for diminutives, she was a superlative in person and acceptance.

She looked at the setup. The theme of the previous session had been ‘lust’ and there were many shades of red throughout the scenery. She ran to lock up the door to the set. After all, she wouldn't be so crazy to do what she was thinking on, without being sure that no one would get in there.

She decided that she would do her own photo session. She took the backup camera that Jana had left behind and positioned it on a tripod. She knew the photographer wouldn't mind, especially because they were not only work colleagues but also