June 18, 2024

Average Joe: The Raunchy Fashion House of Arinze (Chapter 1) [18+]


Home » Average Joe: The Raunchy Fashion House of Arinze (Chapter 1) [18+]

Average Joe: The Raunchy Fashion House of Arinze (Chapter 1) [18+]

“Hi, I need to get a bridesmaid dress altered by Friday, will you be able to get it done in time?”

Bimbo was feeling hopeless. Her younger sister Tania’s wedding was Saturday and she only had one week left to get this done.

Now she was having a difficult time finding anyone who could finish it before the wedding.

“Well, that’s the third place I’ve checked in our area, Tania, and no one can get it done by Friday.”

“This is your fault, Bimbo. You procrastinated to the point where now you can’t get it done in time for the wedding. What am I going to do?” Tania crossed her arms in frustration; she was livid. She wanted everything to be perfect and Bimbo was screwing it up.

The girl’s father, Ajayi, who was in the next room watching a football match offered,

“You know, there’s a tailor at the junction, down by that Igbo man store, you should go there. It’s nothing fancy, but worth a shot.”

The sisters exchanged doubtful looks.

“That’s that Igbo man who worked on Tolu’s suit a few years ago. He was… weird.” Tania made a face.

“Weird? Who cares?! I don’t care if he’s weird, as long as he can get my dress altered in time.” Bimbo picked up her phone. She was desperate. She wanted nothing more than to cross this off her list and get on with the other things she needed to do.

Bimbo called the tailor. A polite male voice with an Igbo accent answered. To Bimbo’s profound relief, the man was able to work her into his schedule and agreed to have the alterations done by Friday afternoon.

“Great!” She hung up. “He can do it!” Bimbo beamed, waving both clenched fists in the air. She gathered the dress hastily and headed out the door to meet with the tailor.

Bimbo was a beautiful girl, through and through. Bimbo was tall and skinny with long, dark hair and flawless features. Belying her otherwise lean frame, she was also a very large-breasted woman. Her top-heavy, skinny-waisted build presented a distinct challenge when shopping for clothes.

The bride’s maid dress needed to be let out in the chest area and taken in around the waist. She had had this type of alteration done before and considered it fairly routine.

She wanted to get the dress just right; classy but distinct. This was her first wedding since her divorce and she hadn’t considered herself “on the market” officially. She didn’t want to advertise the size of her “girls,” as she called her breasts, just yet. She seemed to always attract the wrong sort of guy whenever she wore a shirt or dress that accentuated her breasts. Men went crazy over her breasts.

There was simply no hiding the fact that she was well-endowed, but she hoped the dress wouldn’t show off her body too much.

Bimbo thought back to her three-year marriage with Bayo. Sex and addiction seemed to define the relationship. Bayo had a problem using escorts and smoking weed. Bimbo considered it a minor miracle that she didn’t catch any diseases from that low life. The two had met at a custom party where she was dressed as a fairy, a costume that showcased her breasts.

In those days, she happily flaunted her largest assets. Back then, she absolutely loved when men drooled over her breasts. And she loved having them played with. Bimbo would become incredibly turned on when a lover would focus his attention on her enormous breasts and big puffy nipples.

After meeting Bayo at the party and hooking up that night, the two entered a frenzied courtship. Marriage followed shortly thereafter. It began as a passionate, physically gratifying relationship, but Bayo’s bad habits reared up before too long: his cheating, his lying, and his alcohol and drug abuse. They all resulted in her suffering.

It only lasted three years, but his preoccupation with sex and drugs had taken its toll on Bimbo. Now, in her post-divorce life, she has been dressing more conservatively. Probably too much so, but it was better to overcompensate in the hope that she would not attract guys like Bayo into her life ever again.

Unfortunately, Bimbo began her new life as a divorcee with a chip on her shoulder, hating men in general, especially those who made a big deal about her appearance. She even went on a date with a lesbian friend-of-a-friend to see if she could avoid men altogether, but it just made her even more uncomfortable.

Bimbo brought her attention back to her drive to the tailor. She had left the house in a rush and was dressed casually in shorts and a V-neck blouse with one of her more utilitarian bras. When she looked at the dress at home, she discovered that it had a built-in bra, so she wouldn’t need a dressier bra for the fitting.

She pulled into a parking space in the shopping centre that consisted of shops catering primarily to an Eastern clientele. She was relieved that she was finally taking steps to get this errand completed. She should have had this done weeks ago.

The building wasn’t in the best condition and the tailor shop fit the same aesthetic. Dust and old, neglected plants lined the window. Two seats sat to the left, a sales counter to the right. A yellow calendar hung on the wall. Was it even the right year? There were long beads hanging across a doorway; an entrance to the back of the store.

“Hello?” Bimbo said cautiously, then gently knocked the table.

She heard a voice with an accent come from the back of the shop. “Yes, yes. Please, one moment.”

After a brief wait, the beaded curtain parted. A short, black-haired man greeted her with a broad, white smile. He looked to be in his forties.

“Come this way.” He motioned to the back. They walked down a hallway with dirty walls and carpet that hadn’t seen a broom for some time, past a dark restroom. At the end of the hallway, they entered a large, brightly lit room surrounded by six, full-length mirrors.

The space reminded her of the few other tailor shops she had been to. Dresses and suits in bags were hung on wheeled racks that were pushed up against the walls. Three tables were situated between the clothes racks with fabric and measuring tape lying upon them.

As they entered the room, the man spun sharply on his heel to face her. He extended his hand,

“My name is Arinze.” Bimbo smiled and placed her hand in his, expecting a shake. Instead, he raised it to his lips and kissed the top of it.

His sudden, unexpected charm caught Bimbo off guard.

“Oh! Okay. I’m Bimbo, nice to meet you, Arinze.” She blushed.

“We spoke on the phone, yes? You need expedited alterations?”

Bimbo nodded.

“Please…” he motioned for her to step up, taking the dress from her.

He put the dress on a hanger, then hung it on a nearby clothes rack and turned to Bimbo. Without another word, he smoothed her clothes against her body and grabbed her hips and waist firmly.

With tape measure in hand, he began stretching it across various places over her body. His touch was confident and firm. He seemed to take liberties in touching her over her clothes. She didn’t remember other tailors doing this but gave him the benefit of the doubt. She suspected he did this to see what type of body she had under her baggy clothes.

He had what Bimbo felt to be expert hands; they were quick and sure. His fingers were long and she could tell he knew what he was doing. He was nimble and lithe.

Bimbo was starting to feel a bit awkward, having this relative stranger putting his hands all over her, so she blurted out, “Thank you.”

Arinze paused briefly to regard her with a raised eyebrow and Bimbo expounded. “I mean thank you for taking me on such short notice. I don’t know if you remember or not, but I need this for a wedding on Saturday.”

“Yes, yes. A wedding. Saturday. I can have this completed by Friday. Now, please take the dress and disrobe. Come out with the dress on.”

He motioned to one of two dressing rooms by the fitting area that had a curtain hung across the opening for privacy.

Bimbo tugged the velvet curtain closed. Although there was a gap where the curtain met the wall, Bimbo felt confident that Arinze would respect her privacy. She decided it would be safe, so she took off her shorts and T-shirt and removed her bra.

Now in just her panties, she carefully stepped into the dress and wiggled it up to her hips. Plenty of space there. She worked the dress up to her upper body, but it caught as she tried pulling it around her chest. She stopped to unzip the back, then tried again, cramming her massive boobs into the tight bust area.

She tried as best she could to fit all of her breasts into the garment.

Turning, Bimbo looked in the floor-length mirror. Her bosom was bulging out of the top like some adult cartoon character. Her broad curves flowed out above the built-in cups, with her nipples sticking out way past the hem.

‘I can’t go out there like this. It’s inappropriate.’ She felt embarrassed at the size of her breasts and what the dress was doing to exaggerate their already enormous proportions.

She pushed and crammed her creamy breasts down into the dress. After several attempts, she managed to tuck most of her nipples into the fabric, but the dark outer rims of her areolas were still visible. She had begun to sweat from the effort. She didn’t want to rip the dress, so she had to be satisfied with her breasts busting out of the top.

“Um, Mr. Arinze?” She called from behind the curtain.

She heard him shuffle over. “Yes?” She could see his sandal-clad feet from under the curtain.

“I can’t go out there, the dress is too small,” Bimbo whined.

“Miss, that is precisely why you are here, is it not? You are here to have the dress let out in the bust and taken in at the waist. If it fits you properly, you won’t need my services.”

“I guess you’re right. Okay, here I come, but don’t laugh.” Bimbo opened the curtain and stood in the dressing room with a pout on her face.

Arinze did not notice how endowed the woman was when she first walked into his shop five minutes ago. He suddenly found himself looking at the sexiest sight he had ever seen, especially as a male tailor who worked with bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses- she was like a fantasy come to life.

He had an extremely difficult time not grabbing and groping her breasts right then and there.

Her cleavage occupied her entire chest. The curves projected outward like halves of a perfect sphere. They were wobbling from being constrained within the tight dress. Even the darker brown edges of her nipples were slightly peeking out. She had pulled her hair up into a makeshift bun which brought more attention to her neck.

He thought her breasts were divine. Perfectly accentuated by the dress. He instantly longed to see more of her.


If you’re interested in the Oniranu Weekend Brunch, please fill in your location below


United Kingdomhttps://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfSNYndHWHWHS_KQKQtTi5ZhRyw43AXgRTVbK1tv1t5Zup8lg/viewform?usp=sharing

United Stateshttps://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSemBRomfYfFYDojC__h4KRQAkPyc897av0mdQbMgdqMqa0tvA/viewform?usp=sharing

Buy Oniranu Books on Selar.co from anywhere in the world

Download Oniranu Comics here

This post has already been read 11594 times!

Written by
Dr. Deolu Oniranu-Bubble

Follow @deolububble

Instagram has returned empty data. Please authorize your Instagram account in the plugin settings .

Premium Stories

Verified by ExactMetrics