My name is Hunter and I'm a writer for a blog that has received some decent accolades and followers. My fan base is mostly women that are intrigued with fantasy driven topics. Some are men as well, but the majority are lonely, but older housewives.
As a writer in NYC, I am constantly under scrutiny. Known critics will provide harsh reviews that I try not to take personally and use it to drive my next blog. There happens to be one critic that goes under the name "La Anonymous", which I truly despise. Not because of his two word childlike reviews such as, "it's crap" or "total shit", but because he hides like a coward under the name anonymous when providing said review.
My whole career I've always respected any review I've received both positive and negative. Then I normally take the constructive criticism and apply it to my next piece. This however was different. It was eating me alive that I didn't know who had a gripe against my stories or better yet me personally. Almost going out of their way to read a blog knowing they will hate it before even taking a glance.
After a year of these one star ratings and attacks on my writing skills, I decided I'm going to find out who this talentless guy or gal was.
It took about a month of networking and asking around, but I finally figured out the true identity of La Anonymous. His pseudonym was Mike Smallwood, which I immediately entered into a google search. I found his social media pages and did some online stalking. Most of his pics were blocked from non followers, but I was able to find a profile pic of him and his wife at a beach.
It was hard to tell any physical qualities his wife had from the pic. All I could find was that her name was Crystal and she appeared to be on the curvy side. The image was too blurry so I decided to do more digging on the wife.
I found out she worked at Lane Bryant which is a store for voluptuous and curvy women. I'd never been with a woman that was over 130 pounds, but who you're attracted to is all relative anyways. I took my lunch break by the outlet mall she worked out of and eventually saw her walk out of the store.
Crystal was mostly gray with streaks of blonde running though. She had her hair tied up with a pen holding it in place. It was close to Christmas time so she was wearing a heavy peacoat which made it hard to tell what body type she really had.
I got out of my car and decided to walk past her. Our eyes met as we crossed paths. I continued in the same direction and then heard a woman excitedly yell out, "wait!" As I turned around I saw Crystal standing there with her mouth opened in amazement.
"Are you Hunter Riley?!" She exclaimed.
"The one and only. And you are?" I pretended that I hadn't just spent an hour researching her Facebook account.
"I'm Crystal and am a huge fan. Could I get a selfie with you?"
"Absolutely. Anything for a beautiful fan like yourself."
I put my arm around her waist to pose for the pic. She smelled like a retail store with combinations of strongly scented perfumes. It was a sweet aroma. After we had taken a couple selfies we looked at the pics together and laughed at my weaselly smirk.
I looked down at her Lane Bryant shopping bag and noticed a massive ivory colored bra that was almost bigger than the bag itself. She blushed and smiled after seeing my surprised reaction to the enormous bra she had purchased for herself.
"You wouldn't want to grab a coffee with me next door would you?" I eagerly asked.
"Sure! Coffee with Hunter! My friends are never going to believe this!"
Her hips swayed side to side when she walked as I followed them hypnotically into Starbucks.
Once we sat down, Crystal hung her coat and revealed her curves. She was wearing skin tight plaid Capri pants and a white turtleneck clinging to her natural breasts jetting outwards allowing her bra outline to be visible.
She had somewhat of an hour glass figure. Short in height and measurements around 36F-32-38. She had crows feet around her eyes, a couple of wrinkles on her forehead, and was fairly pale.
We were sharing fun stories from our college days. I confessed that I was a major dork and didn't lose my virginity until I was 20. She then admitted she used to be a big time slut her freshman year. Everyone got a turn! Her words not mine. She's settled down since then and married my arch nemesis. Ironically she's a fan of my work which I'm sure drives him mad. I decided to try my chances and change the scenery.
I told Crystal that I get most of my fantasy ideas from strippers, which wasn't a lie.
"So do you want to be my helper today and get some creative ideas for my next blog?"
"Wow. Well I don't want to impose. It sounds like you have work to do."
I grabbed her perfectly manicured hand and said, "let's go!"
At the gentlemen's club we got a few cocktails in us and started up fantasy driven conversations. Crystal told me she's had fantasies where she's a stripper and provides sexual favors for businessmen with money.
I jokingly offered to be the businessman in this scenario, but then she surprisingly sprang up and looked at me with a devilish grin. "Why not?!" She rhetorically asked as she slowly began to grind up against my crotch with her large rear. That R. Kelly song Bump n Grind was on in the background.
I handed a stripper a twenty dollar bill to give Crystal some pointers. She looked Crystal up and down and then whispered something in her ear. She turned to me and spread my legs, got down on her knees, and used her biggest assets. Rubbing her well endowed chest up and down on my hardening erection. One of the floor managers immediately ran over to kick us out. He said customers can't be giving lap dances at the club, but we were allowed to come back anytime.
I hailed a cab to take her back home. When we settled into the backseat, we both looked at each other and started laughing at us getting kick out. She glanced down at my pants and saw that I was still pitching a tent from her lap dance.
