Big_Jezebel
New Member
SSBBW, ~Squashing, ~sex - - a personal diary, with measurements of the scale, and a price tag to match...
"Mr Richards? Your four o'clock is here."
Jeff raised a brow when he heard the voice of his secretary on the intercom. He lowered the newspaper he'd been reading and grinned to himself behind it. He began to feel a stirring in his groin, and moved his chair closer to the desk to hide it. He'd heard a basic brief about this girl, and he was looking forward to the meeting. Should at least be something for him to think about in the shower later.
"Excellent. Send her in."
He folded up the paper and picked up a pen, straining to look busy on the piece of paper in front of him, filled only with his shopping list. He heard the door open and the slow clatter of high heels on the floor. He didn't look up, instead just imagined how she looked: those thin pointed patent leather stilettoes on the floor, leading up to pale, thin legs. . .
"Take a seat."
..A tight, firm arse sitting on the chair, long pointed fingers caressing those pins, a small waist, and finally her fingers settling upon her blouse to smoothly loosen the top button, letting him get a glimpse of those tiny, pert breasts, desperate to get a book deal. Oh yes, she'd be putty in his hands! A brazen who-
"Oh." He looked up. "Are you. . . er. . . are you Mz Jezebel?"
He looked at her, amazed, not sure what to make of who was in front of him.
She smiled. "Yes, Mr Richards. Not what you were expecting?"
He wanted to throw the manuscript at her. No! Certainly not what he had been expecting! Was he supposed to believe what he'd read in the brief when this. . . this. . . thing was the woman who wrote it?!
"Hmm... you could say that," he replied.
He leaned forward on his desk, rather stiffy now. "Mz Jezebel, am I to believe that these 'intimate adventures' are yours? YOU are the London escort? You've wasted my time! You must weigh 300 pounds! Who would pay for that?"
She kept her smile as he grew redder and redder.
"Actually, I weigh 350 pounds. Although, that was when I weighed myself before Christmas, so I must have put some on since then!" she chuckled slightly. "And, yes, people pay for it, and continue to, very handsomely. Everything in that brief is true, everything in that book is true. I have been a escort for 3 years now, and a very successful one at that."
"But, but. . ." he stammered. "You're so. . ."
"Fat? Yes, Mr Richards, I am. I have a large, soft belly which hangs around my thighs, I have breasts too big for any bra to fit comfortably, my arse takes up two seats on the tube, and I have arms which would intimidate batfink. All of which my clients pay for on a daily basis. Which is pretty fortunate for me." She leaned closer, her cleavage resting on the side of the desk. "Because a girl my size needs tailored suits to bring out the curves."
She winked. He couldn't deny that her clothes looked expensive.
"We're out there, Mr Richards. And so are our clients, and your readers." She stood up, the smile still on her face as she stepped closer to his desk and picked up her manuscript from it, which she surmised he hadn't actually taken the time to read himself. She flipped it over a couple of pages and dropped it on his shopping list.
"Here, start at chapter one. If nothing else, it'll give you something to think about in the shower." She winked, and walked out.
Jeff looked down at the manuscript, briefly stunned by her confidence. She certainly had an air about her. As she left the office, he jumped at the sound of the shutting door. He blinked, shook his head, and picked up her diary.
'Heh! A fat escort. . . honestly, what's this going to be about then? Dear diary, today I got all hot and sweaty and ate chocolate!' He laughed, and started to read, ready to pick out the lines to ridicule later. . .
"Bah!" he exclaimed. What was he thinking? He shook his head, and threw the manuscript down. It was time to go home, back to the wife and kids. He just might have to wait a few minutes before standing up.
He began to pack his briefcase, putting in his phone, diary, and. . .yes, he'd take the diary home. After all, there was still plenty to read. And what was that about a horsewhip?
(continued in post 3 of this thread)
The Diary of a Fat London Escort
by Big Jezebel
by Big Jezebel
"Mr Richards? Your four o'clock is here."
Jeff raised a brow when he heard the voice of his secretary on the intercom. He lowered the newspaper he'd been reading and grinned to himself behind it. He began to feel a stirring in his groin, and moved his chair closer to the desk to hide it. He'd heard a basic brief about this girl, and he was looking forward to the meeting. Should at least be something for him to think about in the shower later.
"Excellent. Send her in."
He folded up the paper and picked up a pen, straining to look busy on the piece of paper in front of him, filled only with his shopping list. He heard the door open and the slow clatter of high heels on the floor. He didn't look up, instead just imagined how she looked: those thin pointed patent leather stilettoes on the floor, leading up to pale, thin legs. . .
"Take a seat."
..A tight, firm arse sitting on the chair, long pointed fingers caressing those pins, a small waist, and finally her fingers settling upon her blouse to smoothly loosen the top button, letting him get a glimpse of those tiny, pert breasts, desperate to get a book deal. Oh yes, she'd be putty in his hands! A brazen who-
"Oh." He looked up. "Are you. . . er. . . are you Mz Jezebel?"
He looked at her, amazed, not sure what to make of who was in front of him.
She smiled. "Yes, Mr Richards. Not what you were expecting?"
He wanted to throw the manuscript at her. No! Certainly not what he had been expecting! Was he supposed to believe what he'd read in the brief when this. . . this. . . thing was the woman who wrote it?!
"Hmm... you could say that," he replied.
He leaned forward on his desk, rather stiffy now. "Mz Jezebel, am I to believe that these 'intimate adventures' are yours? YOU are the London escort? You've wasted my time! You must weigh 300 pounds! Who would pay for that?"
She kept her smile as he grew redder and redder.
"Actually, I weigh 350 pounds. Although, that was when I weighed myself before Christmas, so I must have put some on since then!" she chuckled slightly. "And, yes, people pay for it, and continue to, very handsomely. Everything in that brief is true, everything in that book is true. I have been a escort for 3 years now, and a very successful one at that."
"But, but. . ." he stammered. "You're so. . ."
"Fat? Yes, Mr Richards, I am. I have a large, soft belly which hangs around my thighs, I have breasts too big for any bra to fit comfortably, my arse takes up two seats on the tube, and I have arms which would intimidate batfink. All of which my clients pay for on a daily basis. Which is pretty fortunate for me." She leaned closer, her cleavage resting on the side of the desk. "Because a girl my size needs tailored suits to bring out the curves."
She winked. He couldn't deny that her clothes looked expensive.
"We're out there, Mr Richards. And so are our clients, and your readers." She stood up, the smile still on her face as she stepped closer to his desk and picked up her manuscript from it, which she surmised he hadn't actually taken the time to read himself. She flipped it over a couple of pages and dropped it on his shopping list.
"Here, start at chapter one. If nothing else, it'll give you something to think about in the shower." She winked, and walked out.
Jeff looked down at the manuscript, briefly stunned by her confidence. She certainly had an air about her. As she left the office, he jumped at the sound of the shutting door. He blinked, shook his head, and picked up her diary.
'Heh! A fat escort. . . honestly, what's this going to be about then? Dear diary, today I got all hot and sweaty and ate chocolate!' He laughed, and started to read, ready to pick out the lines to ridicule later. . .
March 10th, 2004
I chose today to write a journal.
It's a landmark.
Today I gave up my day job, my real job, the one with a future, career prospects, the managerial ladder, and admitted that I am now, surprisingly, a full time escort.
I only started a few weeks ago, Thursday, the 25th of February, I think. I was bored out of my mind, and pretty depressed because I didn't have a job and needed to pay the rent on the crumbling shoebox I call a room. I also hadn't had a decent shag in a fair while. So I do what anyone does, I look to the internet.
Typing BBW into the search engine was a bit of an eye opener, but one of the first things I saw was a few adverts for escorts. Now, I've never thought that there'd be a market for it, but apparently there is, so I spent the day looking through the various websites (they were all independents from what I could see) and realised that -wow! - they were making truckloads and getting some good responses! So, just as more of an experiment really, I filled out my profile to reflect my full size (rather than shaving off those few dress sizes - Hey! I can be a 24 if I really try! And if the trousers are elasticized), weight, looks, and that I was an escort. The response was truly astonishing.
Within the hour I had messages from people wanting more information, saying they liked my profile and wanted to know more, asking when to meet etc. I set a price, and worked my way from there. Which is how I met "Dave."
Its so weird to think that four hours after placing the profile, I ended up at his hotel room. I mean, anything could have happened, right?! It was only when I knocked on the door that I felt the nerves run through me, but I had given him my mobile number previously, and we had talked. He was an American over here for a business thing, and wanted to know what it was like to have a large lady sit on his face, so I kindly agreed, and there I was, driven by money, curiosity, and my libido. Sex with strangers has always been a kink of mine.
He was actually very cute; reminded me a little of my old boss, but still a very sweet man and paid all the cash upfront before just wanting to cuddle and kiss for a while. Fair enough, thinks I, and off we went.
He undressed me slowly. I felt weird, like I'd slipped into a character and this just wasn't me. I'm the first one to be shy about my body; I haven't even been swimming in years because of how I look in a swimming costume. But when a man is on his knees, running his hands under my shirt and crying "Oh man, oh man you're so beautiful," and paying hundreds for the privilege, suddenly your perspective changes.
He held his face in my stomach for a while. I could see my flesh curl round his face and for a minute there, he held it for so long I thought it would leave some kind of imprint! He pulled off his shirt, and I took off mine as he unbuttoned my trousers. He pulled out the apron of my belly and just held it in his hands. He bent down to kiss it, and pulled his trousers down. By the response in his groin, I could see he was really enjoying himself!
He held his naked body against mine, and I could feel him hugging tightly, gripping the folds of flabby skin on my back and groaning slightly. I took him to the bed, and bent over, copying a cheesy move I'd seen in all those porno movies.
"Mmmmm. . . I love the way your thighs rub together at the top." Fortunately he couldn't see me stifling a chuckle!
He laid down on the bed, and pulled me on top of him. He closed his eyes with a huge grin on his face as I lowered my full body weight, sitting astride his stomach. "Wow, is this true?" I thought. "Can guys really love my weight on them?"
He lifted my tummy apron, and let it fall on him. He massaged my love handles and pulled me up.
"Please," he begged. "Please come up and sit on my face. I want to feel you on top of me."
Oh man. Would he be able to breathe? I'd never done this move before, so I just gulped, thought of the money, and scooched up. A second later I could feel his tongue lapping around my pussy. He moaned, and I lifted a little, only to feel his hands on my arse pushing me down. I bit my lip, and just settled down, relaxing enough to enjoy the sensation, relaxing a little too much actually. He pushed me down more and more - didn't this guy want to come up for air?
Apparently not! Twenty minutes of his head in my pussy, my thighs gripping him around his ears and his hands holding my arse down and I came furiously. I felt him stop after I came, and with his face still under me, he released his right hand, and I watched him hold his cock. Without even moving it, he came over his stomach. I smiled, happy that he had enjoyed himself, and shifted off him.
"Mind if I use your bathroom?"
I cleaned myself, and straightened my hair and makeup as best I could. When I came into the room with some tissue, he was still lying back, smiling happily.
"I've always wanted to try that! It was amazing."
"Thank you!" I said, wiping him down. Wow, this had gone better than I thought!
He watched me as I got dressed. I was just pulling my knickers up, slipping them over my arse when he took my hand, and gave me another £20 note.
"Here, it's a deposit. Mind if I see you again tomorrow?"
So, not bad for a first time!
It has kind of escalated from there really, but will tell you all about it later on. For now, I need to find a place to hang the horsewhip and handcuffs, and get some breakfast.
Mr Richards put the script down, and loosened his collar a little. Admittedly the facesitting part had hit him somewhere. He imagined his face caught in all that warm, soft flesh-I chose today to write a journal.
It's a landmark.
Today I gave up my day job, my real job, the one with a future, career prospects, the managerial ladder, and admitted that I am now, surprisingly, a full time escort.
I only started a few weeks ago, Thursday, the 25th of February, I think. I was bored out of my mind, and pretty depressed because I didn't have a job and needed to pay the rent on the crumbling shoebox I call a room. I also hadn't had a decent shag in a fair while. So I do what anyone does, I look to the internet.
Typing BBW into the search engine was a bit of an eye opener, but one of the first things I saw was a few adverts for escorts. Now, I've never thought that there'd be a market for it, but apparently there is, so I spent the day looking through the various websites (they were all independents from what I could see) and realised that -wow! - they were making truckloads and getting some good responses! So, just as more of an experiment really, I filled out my profile to reflect my full size (rather than shaving off those few dress sizes - Hey! I can be a 24 if I really try! And if the trousers are elasticized), weight, looks, and that I was an escort. The response was truly astonishing.
Within the hour I had messages from people wanting more information, saying they liked my profile and wanted to know more, asking when to meet etc. I set a price, and worked my way from there. Which is how I met "Dave."
Its so weird to think that four hours after placing the profile, I ended up at his hotel room. I mean, anything could have happened, right?! It was only when I knocked on the door that I felt the nerves run through me, but I had given him my mobile number previously, and we had talked. He was an American over here for a business thing, and wanted to know what it was like to have a large lady sit on his face, so I kindly agreed, and there I was, driven by money, curiosity, and my libido. Sex with strangers has always been a kink of mine.
He was actually very cute; reminded me a little of my old boss, but still a very sweet man and paid all the cash upfront before just wanting to cuddle and kiss for a while. Fair enough, thinks I, and off we went.
He undressed me slowly. I felt weird, like I'd slipped into a character and this just wasn't me. I'm the first one to be shy about my body; I haven't even been swimming in years because of how I look in a swimming costume. But when a man is on his knees, running his hands under my shirt and crying "Oh man, oh man you're so beautiful," and paying hundreds for the privilege, suddenly your perspective changes.
He held his face in my stomach for a while. I could see my flesh curl round his face and for a minute there, he held it for so long I thought it would leave some kind of imprint! He pulled off his shirt, and I took off mine as he unbuttoned my trousers. He pulled out the apron of my belly and just held it in his hands. He bent down to kiss it, and pulled his trousers down. By the response in his groin, I could see he was really enjoying himself!
He held his naked body against mine, and I could feel him hugging tightly, gripping the folds of flabby skin on my back and groaning slightly. I took him to the bed, and bent over, copying a cheesy move I'd seen in all those porno movies.
"Mmmmm. . . I love the way your thighs rub together at the top." Fortunately he couldn't see me stifling a chuckle!
He laid down on the bed, and pulled me on top of him. He closed his eyes with a huge grin on his face as I lowered my full body weight, sitting astride his stomach. "Wow, is this true?" I thought. "Can guys really love my weight on them?"
He lifted my tummy apron, and let it fall on him. He massaged my love handles and pulled me up.
"Please," he begged. "Please come up and sit on my face. I want to feel you on top of me."
Oh man. Would he be able to breathe? I'd never done this move before, so I just gulped, thought of the money, and scooched up. A second later I could feel his tongue lapping around my pussy. He moaned, and I lifted a little, only to feel his hands on my arse pushing me down. I bit my lip, and just settled down, relaxing enough to enjoy the sensation, relaxing a little too much actually. He pushed me down more and more - didn't this guy want to come up for air?
Apparently not! Twenty minutes of his head in my pussy, my thighs gripping him around his ears and his hands holding my arse down and I came furiously. I felt him stop after I came, and with his face still under me, he released his right hand, and I watched him hold his cock. Without even moving it, he came over his stomach. I smiled, happy that he had enjoyed himself, and shifted off him.
"Mind if I use your bathroom?"
I cleaned myself, and straightened my hair and makeup as best I could. When I came into the room with some tissue, he was still lying back, smiling happily.
"I've always wanted to try that! It was amazing."
"Thank you!" I said, wiping him down. Wow, this had gone better than I thought!
He watched me as I got dressed. I was just pulling my knickers up, slipping them over my arse when he took my hand, and gave me another £20 note.
"Here, it's a deposit. Mind if I see you again tomorrow?"
So, not bad for a first time!
It has kind of escalated from there really, but will tell you all about it later on. For now, I need to find a place to hang the horsewhip and handcuffs, and get some breakfast.
"Bah!" he exclaimed. What was he thinking? He shook his head, and threw the manuscript down. It was time to go home, back to the wife and kids. He just might have to wait a few minutes before standing up.
He began to pack his briefcase, putting in his phone, diary, and. . .yes, he'd take the diary home. After all, there was still plenty to read. And what was that about a horsewhip?
(continued in post 3 of this thread)
