Casting for Curves (A BBW Erotic Romance)

Description:

Emily, an aspiring actress, doubts she will get the lead role for an upcoming film. She's just happy to just catch a glimpse of its sexy, maverick director, Patrice Deschamps. However, the infamous director may have other plans for the curvy beauty.

Patrice is unhappy with the actresses he has seen. Ever the perfectionist, he's willing to look high and low for the lead actress for his new movie.

But when Emily catches his eye, he's willing to give the novice actress a chance. The ill-tempered director's intense audition process blurs the line between acting and reality. Face to face with her idol, she'll have to give the performance of a lifetime in order to please the insatiable director. Will she be able please a man who demands nothing less than perfection?

EXPLICIT: This work contents intense sexual intercourse, oral sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, and a director who is hard to please.

EXCERPT:

“They’ll think you’re crazy,” I said. There was no way I could be an actress in this big of a production. “They’ll think you’re crazier than usual. Like this is some kind of trick or power play. Maybe you’re playing me.”

“They can think whatever they want,” Patrice said, sincerity in his voice. “I am here to make a good film. I give you my word that you will have my full support if you are what I think you are.”

Questions were popping up in my mind. “Why not go through your casting director?”

“He has his methods,” Patrice said, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes appeared to trail down my body from the curve my breasts to the swell of my buttocks. “He has given me nothing but garbage. People come with their prejudices and their processes become prejudiced. I’m looking for a woman who can act. Not an actress posing as a woman.”

“Well, if you think I have what it takes,” I said, hiding the giddiness in my voice and failing. “Then I’ll give it my best shot.”

“Good,” he said simply, pointing to a couch. “Now, stand over there.”

I followed his instructions. There was a spring to my step. My career was going somewhere. This was a dream come true.

“Now undress,” he commanded. I was slack-jawed at the command. “You heard me.”

I stared back at him. I had never been nude in front of the camera for a film. The demands of the role now became crystal clear to me. This was a Patrice Deschamps production after all.

“Miss Benson,” he began. “Are you or are you not an actress?”

I gave a nervous nod. “I am an actress.”

“Then act for me,” he said, impatience in his voice. He sat down on a nearby chair. “If you cannot undress in front of the director then how can you act with another actor? How will you act in front of the crew? How can you give it your all knowing that hundreds of thousands will see your nude body?”

His words sank in. This was an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A girl who had looks, money, and intelligence may not get an audience with Patrice Deschamps. I owed it to myself to not let this opportunity go. He didn’t care how I looked. So why should I? So I stripped in front of one of the most celebrated directors of our generation.