Curves For Her Celebrity

CURVES FOR HER CELEBRITY

by Leslie Hunter

CURVES FOR HER CELEBRITY

Leslie Hunter

WriterLeslieHunter.com

All Rights Reserved ©2016 Leslie Hunter. First Printing: 2016.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Author’s Note: All characters in this story are 19 years of age and older.

If you notice any errors, I’d appreciate a heads up please.

corrections@writerlesliehunter.com

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CURVES FOR HER CELEBRITY 

The ambient noise of thousands of comic con attendees filled the convention center. Murmured conversations of television, movies, and comics mixed then dulled into background noise. Within the fans were hundreds if not thousands of costumed characters among regular attendees.

I tugged at my white spandex superhero costume. It was one of those outfits meant for men yet worn by women. The giant circle near my tits gave everyone a view of my ‘extra serving’ boobs. That’s Trish’s description, not mine.

She was into superheroes and I was the sci-fi girl in our friendship. I preferred Clarke and Bradbury over girls in capes. That said, four-day Gold Level passes were more than this starving girl could refuse or afford.

Not that anyone would ever accuse you of starving.

I looked down at my tits pressed out against the white Lycra material.

Those are superhero tits all right. Even my butt had the curves seen in stereotypical comic books and some music videos. The rest of me didn’t fit the pop culture ideal.

Those aren’t my words. I’ve heard them said dozens of ways over the years. The only way I had a superhero body is if you referenced one of those black and white independent comics.

Trish? Yeah, she’s got the body for pinup cosplay.

If I was bitter, I’d say it was her money that made her look good.

It certainly didn’t hurt.

I stared at her green corset that propped up her boobs so much they were almost as big as mine. Green vines and leaves surrounded her tiny wasp-like torso and then went along her bare arms. She dyed her hair bright red so the leaves stood out more.

I watched as yet another guy asked for a photo. She fluttered her green shadowed eyes as the guy leaned against the fake poison ivy vines along her costume.

Good thing that’s fake or else the whole convention would break out in hives.

There’s a theory this isn’t the only universe. I’m sure in some other parallel universe, the big girl and hot cosplay player never became friends. Their loss. I shamefully didn’t care for her when we met. She did nothing wrong except exist. I had enough experiences with thin girls to know we couldn’t be friends.

Boy were you wrong Michelle.

She was a statistical anomaly. If she wasn’t so insistent, I’d join all those other universes where I sneered at the thin rich girl.

Hey, never let it be said I didn’t admit my faults.

Besides the pleasure of having a decent girlfriend, we got to do cool stuff like this.

Technically, we were at a comic book convention. These days that meant they showcased movies and television. Hence, plenty of tables for ‘Starship Omega’ my favorite show. I smiled as my eyes went over the novelizations, autographed photos, and even props. I sucked in a breath at the chrome blaster. Light up purple head at the end, with rings around the eight inch barrel. Multi colored lights ran along the top then stopped near the handle. I frowned at the price – five hundred dollars.

Too much for a poor girl like me, even if it was used in the show.

I made sure to not look at it for too long just in case Trish noticed. She’d buy it for me no questions asked, but I liked having a friend. I didn’t need or want a walking wallet.

But I do need this!

My eyes widened at the black and white photo of Trent Kline. He was the original captain of Starship Omega. He was in season one through three before Hollywood replaced him with a muscled pretty boy.

They got it right the first time. They didn’t have to change captains.

He had the classic old Hollywood good looks. It helped that the photo was in black and white but you could easily slip him between the old Hollywood stars of the forties. His rugged jaw, intelligent stare, and