Fairy Tales Come True

Jasmine was a waitress going nowhere fast. She knew she didn't have the grades to go to college and she didn't have the ambition to get all dressed up and snag some corporate job. She didn't know the first thing about how to be an entrepreneur. As far as she knew, Jasmine would be serving dinner specials and earning minimum wage for the rest of her days.

Unless she could somehow marry into money.

They didn't have to be stinking with wealth, but her future family would have to have enough to live comfortably. She wasn't exactly a difficult woman to please. She would be fine being a housewife who cooked and cleaned and kissed her busy husband when he came in the door. She basically performed all of those roles from eight to five, Monday through Saturday as it was. Anything to make her man happy - the man that would give her the future she didn't feel equipped to get herself. That man, a fashionably dressed Jake Dunley, came into her life after eight long years of back-breaking service work at a dead end job. The new regular and eventual boyfriend was also the future heir to a multi-million dollar company. Then, after some buttering up and a few dates, the solidifying of Jasmine's dreams came true when Jake invited her to a resort on a far away island. There, she would be introduced to Jake's family as his girlfriend; first-class plane ticket, open bars, plush living arrangements, the works. It was all too perfect.

Jasmine was lost in the bubbles of both her drink and of the hot tub, her strapping boyfriend with his hand tangled in the strings of a bikini he had purchased just for her, their concealed playing just beneath the water betrayed by the craving in the expressions they swapped. Jake would follow the map of her body to a treasure that he could have located with his eyes shut at ten yards and Jasmine would swoon about how predictable he was.

"You find what you were looking for?" Jasmine teased.

Jake kissed her shoulder and twiddled his fingers, filling Jasmine's body with an exciting light. "Hard to miss. They're as perfect as ever - just like the rest of you."

One of the triangles of Jasmine's bikini top shifted under the bubbles as Jake glided even closer for a better grip. His muscled arm was behind her, anchoring her soft femininity against his sturdy form, and he captured his interest in his index finger and his thumb. As he did so he sensed the nuance of her body squeeze and then release and he smiled because he knew that it was his action that brought this effect. Jasmine, unwilling to simply be had, responded by feeling for something she was intimately interested in. Unsurprisingly, she found it alert and true just as easily as he had located her right nipple. When she squeezed, his jaw clenched and a smile spread across his face that drove her wild.

"I'll show you what's hard to miss, mister."

Their flirting had driven away any patrons that might share the hot tub, but guests were still floating in the area; some at the open bar, others shamelessly watching out of the corner of their eyes. Some were family - Jake's family. What was quickly coming to an urgent head - pun very much intended - couldn't transpire without a cloud of witnesses, so once the time felt right the two lovers scurried away with their drinks, dripping and connected at the hip towards their suite. There, they could bring true substance to their heady desires. Fiery hot, they rammed against their door and proceeded to put to shame every Hollywood kiss they had seen. Jasmine clung on to the body before her like a rock wall, each of his muscles serving as a new handhold, a new point that would take her higher. Jake answered back with his mouth, hands in a flurry in search of the key to the room while he bit the plump lips of his girlfriend. After their fourth pass at each other's lips, Jasmine's impatience began to show. She hooked one arm behind his neck and pulled him further onto her, his full foot advantage being equalized as she devoured his stubbled jaw and earlobe. She made her free hand busy at the front of his trunks which had become quite the tent with their recent activities. Feeling his solidity and length made her smile at her handiwork. She was thirsty for what would happen the second the door behind her opened.

"If you don't find that key, I'm going to do something about this right here in the hallway."

"How am I supposed to focus with you all over me?"

"I don't know, but you'd better try really, really hard."

"It must not be on me. Ugh, it's in my wallet," he groaned, equally is disappointed by this realization as Jasmine. "Which I told Rose to watch when we got in the water. She must have taken it to her room with the rest of her stuff. She ended up turning in about an hour ago."

Jake lurched forward, his muscular body forming a crescent as Jasmine went to work. She was not bluffing. The palm of her hand was gentle, but clearly defining an elongated shape in her boyfriend's trunks. She was not intent on stopping, not even for a cleaning lady who happened to be passing by, no matter how embarrassed Jake looked because of her actions; it might have actually made her want it more.

"W-will you. . . stop?"

"We both don't want me to stop," Jasmine smirked. "We fool around so much but I just can't help but be impressed. I've told you before how impressive you are right, Jake?"

"Quit it. You can show me how impressed you are after you go fetch my wallet from cousin Rose's room."

"Huh? Why me?"

Jake did what Jasmine thought was impossible considering their feelings and took a step away from her. He gestured to himself, all six and a quarter feet of him, and raised an eyebrow as if that was all the explaining needed. Jasmine rolled her eyes across her man, paused at his trunks, and then shrugged at how she had been so thoroughly defeated. How awkward would it be to have a man like Jake show up at your room smelling of champagne in the middle of the night? Now make him shirtless. Now make him soaking wet. Finally, make sure that it is very clear how well-endowed he is. That would be both horrifying and tantalizing, and as a blood relative, Rose could only experience the first half of that equation. It would, therefore, but much easier to have the champagne-scented, bikini-clad, soaking wet - in both senses - female appear and ask for the wallet. In theory, at least.

Jasmine left, not forgetting to put an extra wiggle in her hips as she did. "Don't calm down too much. I won't be gone long."

"Just make sure the condoms didn't fall out," he called back.

Committing the room number to memory, Jasmine scampered through the halls and found the nearest elevator. Along the way she passed plenty of the other guests, admiring how well put together they all looked. It didn't even have to do with their clothing as many of them were on their way back from the pool or beach, but it had more to do with their air. There was a different way of walking when you knew that you had everything made; a lack of fear that was present in everyone else - the people whose whole lives might fall apart if they somehow didn't get a paycheck on a given month. This hotel was swimming in people who weren't burdened by such thoughts, people whose concerns seemed to be in other things. After the third set of eyeballs, Jasmine realized that their concerns were resting on. . . her. She had the designer bikini, the upper-class boyfriend, and had a suite on the same island as her gawkers, but tucked into the corner of her sterling fantasy was doubt. As small and venomous as a brown recluse, Jasmine knew and feared that she couldn't belong. Had she been sober it might have consumed her; the sense that all of what she had she didn't deserve and that it all could be lost on a whim. Jake's parents looked kindly upon her at dinner the first night but had their nodding been toward a future daughter or at a girl who should've been serving the appetizers? Margo, Jake's aunt and Rose's mother, expressed the most interest and asked the most questions. Was it because she wanted to form a relationship or because she was sniffing out the rat that had crawled into her nephew's life?

Alcohol did wonders to purge such doubts.

Instead, Jasmine shot her looks right back at anyone who made eye contact. No surprise in the fact that she got double and triple takes when her confidence was most radiant. After all, her body looked better than every woman she passed and they had spent thousands of dollars on theirs. And boy was it clear by the looks on those women's faces. The best exchange was on the ride up to Rose's floor. The elevator stopped seven floors early and let a married couple in. The man made instant attempts at getting close to Jasmine and each time his wife had to throw herself between them. No matter how she pressed her body into him, patted his cheek, or talked him down, he made pleasantries and small talk. Jasmine had to do little more than stand up straight and let her bikini, which was purchased two sizes too small because she loved the 'danger' of having her H cup tits spilling out of their cups, do all of her conversing. By the end of it all, he offered her a bottle of wine and an intimate evening with him and his wife - without her permission. "We're in the master suite on this floor if you change your mind, angel," his words squeezed their way between closing elevator doors and smacked Jasmine right in the cleavage. Her chest had been all that he was willing to talk to which repulsed most women but delighted Jasmine.

She had something to offer, which meant she was worth holding on to. Right?

Rose's door was heavy and made of solid wood which sent deep, resounding echoes as Jasmine thumped it. No response. She did so again, bringing a hand to her hip and looking both directions down the hall. This floor had a stillness that the others didn't like there was no sound coming from anywhere. Was everyone already asleep? Didn't being rich and going on vacation mean drinking at all hours with long, relaxing days that segued into longer, sexier nights? Maybe there was more to it. It almost felt like a sin to do so, but Jasmine put extra force into her knocking and raised her voice.

"R-Rose? It's Jazz," checking the room number once more, Jasmine thought she ought to clarify. "Jake's girlfriend? He left his wallet with you and sent me to come and ge-. . ."

Enough air was pushed when the door flew open that Jasmine was almost sucked into the room. Standing before her in the hall to a dark room was a girl of equal height with dilated eyes and black curls that looked like ribbons. Jake's hair did the same curling if he didn't tend to it regularly, and her general stance confirmed that this was indeed the Rose that Jasmine had met before. This one looked withered, though, in a way that made Jasmine doubt that she had picked the correct door.

"I-I didn't mean to interrupt anything. We're just locked out of our suite and the key is with Jake's stuff."

"Why didn't he come to get it, then?" Rose's cracking voice said, accusatory.

Funny. It almost felt like she didn't want Jasmine there. But unlike the people that she had passed on the way there, Rose was future family and it was in everyone's best interest that Jasmine not react with hostility. "I offered, actually. He said he needed to run and pick up some drinks for us."

Just then, Rose's arm came into view as well as the phone she held within it. She checked it briefly and then looked dispassionately at Jasmine. Was she angry at her? "Honestly, that boy. He should just keep up with his own things. Now he's got his girlfriend running around at all hours. . ."

Rose turned and went back into her room. With a brief look over the shoulder that said 'you coming to get it or what?' Jasmine followed. She remained in tow and discovered that Rose's suite was more than what the hotel had offered her and Jake. Rose's suite was the size of a studio apartment, but with expensive drapery and wall of windows that provided a view of the sea down below. Rose didn't even wink at such majesty, but Jasmine followed with stars in her eyes like a tourist. The wall of windows extended out of that room and continued on to the next which had a kitchen and a sitting area with a massive television. Then another room which had games and a state-of-the-art stereo. Then the next room. . . and the next. They were all connected together, each the size of two or three regular hotel rooms. Then came a corner room, and only then did Jasmine connect the dots.

"So your suite. . . takes up the whole floor?"

"Yea," Rose's monotony was the most startling way she could have answered. She clearly was unimpressed by her living arrangements. It just went to show what league the Dunley's lived in: one that was in a separate universe from the rest of the world. The 'one percent' and all the thoughts and beliefs one might have about it were just the tip of the iceberg. Jasmine was taking a stroll through such wonders like an elementary student in the local zoo.

Eventually, they came to a room the size of a four-car garage. The way it was furnished resembled a living room, but it just felt like so much more than that. The positioning was right over the lobby and the room had the same dimensions. A lounging area to the side, a snack bar that was fully stocked with freshly made desserts instead of prepackaged treats, a glassed-in bath which was in its own corner but not walled off from the rest of the space, and all the entertainment a lady could ever desire. Matchless in elegance, a massive bed was in the very center with linen that could be compared only to winter's first snowfall.

"My bag's on the couch. Grab your stuff and go. I need to get ready for bed," Rose said, checking the time on her phone once more.

She and Jasmine walked together toward the lounging area, but Rose continued on in the direction of the bathing corner. She went behind the glass and began an evening ritual of lotions and scrubs that Jasmine could see clearly. In fact, it was almost as if the very fact that she could see Rose clearly was enough to yank her focus away from the blue pool bag and onto cousin Rose. The girl seemed taxed and hurried, like she may be tired but that she was pushing herself faster and faster. Beyond that, the girl was beautiful and her body's features were clearly defined by how her extra large shirt wrinkled and folded on her body.

Peculiar enough was how the shirt was not the only thing that was 'extra large'. Sure, Rose took after much of her family in most of her appearance, but one area where the Dunley's were lacking was in natural curvature. They were all very trim looking people, the kind that played tennis and golf and had personal trainers that made sure their bodies were at peak performance. There wasn't an ounce of fat on any of the women in the family from what Jasmine could have gathered. If she became a part of the family, Jasmine would no doubt have the grandest curves of any of the women. She had enough in her gigantic chest to distribute among four or five of her new family members. If memory served, this expression could have been extended to Rose - at least, it could have a few nights ago. When Jasmine first formally met the girl, she fit the puzzle for how her family should have looked. But based on how the shirt was bending so generously out in front of her, now Rose looked like she was two or three sizes too large to fit into the Dunley puzzle.

As she splashed her face with water, Rose's arms sent her body into bounding motions. Her front was the most exaggerated of the two, sweeping low and slow before settling in their places again. As she applied some beauty cream to her porcelain skin in small circles, the cushions in front of her mimicked and danced in circles of their own. The size and movement looked familiar, but then, how could Rose Dunley have boobs as big as Jasmine's after only an hour? Out by the hot tub, Rose was in her swimsuit and looked just as lithe as she had the whole vacation. Was the glass just part of a funny mirror that made twenty-somethings with no curves turn into playboy bunnies?

"Did you find it yet?" Rose asked but was now brushing her teeth.

Jasmine shook her head. "No, not yet. Are you sure it's in this bag?"

"It has to be. Check towards the bottom, under some of the clothes. And please hurry up, I need to. . . go to bed."

Jasmine did so and found nothing but towels, sunscreen, a half-empty bottle of wine, and a bikini. She looked up at Rose and then, sticking her nose into business that wasn't hers, checked the tag. Small/A/B cup. There was no way. Whatever was sloshing about as Rose brushed her teeth was not even close to a B cup. Maybe before when Rose was looking modest, but not now. Rose was widening her stance as she checked her phone once more. This seemed to only inspire more of a panic which manifested in pacing and worried groaning. The hard exterior was showing cracks which, blame the horniness if you must, intrigued Jasmine more and more. She really wanted to find out what was up with Rose; to ask her about this sudden change in behavior. Or, even more important, how her tits had blown up to the size of her head in no time at all.

"Hey, you're doing okay in there, right?" Jasmine called. She tried to pretend like she was still looking for a wallet. Even though she did manage to find a condom - one of Jake's going by the size - she was momentarily piqued by another interest.

"Did you find it?"

"No, I think it could have fallen out? I don't know."

"Then you need to go. I have to get to bed."

"What? Is it past your bedtime? You're my age and you still have a bedtime?"

Rose was lotioning her face a second time, but stopped halfway to come into the main room. No girl needs that much moisturizer, Jasmine thought, so she must have been stalling. Stalling for what, though? Jasmine stood up straight and let Rose take the bag. Dumping the contents onto the floor, she went to her knees and started looking. Every few items, she would check her phone again, then go back to hunting.

"I've got important plans that require that I get a lot of shut-eye. If the wallet isn't here, then go check by the pool. Or call the lobby and see if it turned up at lost and found."

"Can I use your phone?"

"No."

Jasmine's weight shifted. She crossed her arms and smiled as if she knew what was going on. When Rose saw this, she stood up and assumed a power pose. Instincts told her that there was going to be a stand-off.

Jasmine tilted her head, her freshly cut blond hair swooshing over to her other shoulder with the motion. "Aren't you worried about your big cousin's wallet going missing?"

"He's always been forgetful - at least as long as he's been with you."

That stung just a little. "I want to get out of here almost as bad as I think you want me to leave. Excuse me for making sure you're doing okay. You're rushing around like a deck of cards in a twister. What's the rush?"

"If you cared so much, you would have tried asking the concierge for a replacement key instead of coming up here to bother me," Rose grabbed hold of Jasmine's shoulder and tried twisting them in the direction of the front door. "You should probably do that right now, actually."

Jasmine wasn't budging. "If you have something against me, just say it. I just wanted to be nice, but if we're going to hate each other then let's not spend weeks and weeks hashing it out. The faster we know to avoid each other, the faster we can both move on."

"I don't," she paused, angrily sighing. "I don't hate you. I don't hate that you're with Jake. I just really need you to go. Right now. I'm fine, so just leave."

"The wallet. . ."

"I'll look for it in the morning. In the meantime, get a replacement key from downstairs. If it's stolen, we'll handle it all later."