SSBBW, Romance, Explicit Sex - a botched blind date leads to a wonderful experiance
So, I am sitting there with the phone I just placed against the holder. It is silent. I can hear my breathing, and my belly flip flopping like a pair of cheap sandals.
Ugh! My mind races. I knew I shouldnt have agreed to let my friend fix me up with a date. I know in my heart of hearts though, I need to get out. It has been awhile, and people might start mistaking me for some kind of recluse or something though. I just dont think my artsy friend, with his ties and khakis Dockers knows who I am, or what I really look for in a partner. I mean, granted he knows a lot more about men then I do, because he is one and takes home more then I would ever dream of.
It has been a rough ride for me so far. The first date was actually into swinging, and not from a rope. I met his wife after he tried to neck with me a bit on the couch, grabbing my belly as if it was his. I admit, I sort of liked how he knew to touch me. At the same time the site of someone enjoying my flab really shocked me, and I acted like I was upset instead. Then again his wife asked me to stay with them that night
The one after him was even worse. He just promised drinks. And then when we went back to his house he had candles and incense all over the place. We lay on his floor and listened to some Slayer. Then his kids walked in, and I just sat there as they called me Mommy.
I dont know what happened to me. I used to have all these men clamoring for my attention when I was younger, not that I am old. I am nearly 22. I guess the real attraction for them was the fact that I was younger.
Well, I remjknd myself, I must get ready and let whatever happens happen tonight. I shower, and moisturize with my signature scent. Lavender envelopes me and I even splash some into my hair. I know I am going to a place that doesnt allow smoking even though I smoke occasionally, but at least I will smell like someone who cares what others smell. I wear my red top that shows off my breasts, and still looks sweet enough paired with my black frilly skirt and high heels.
Standing at 58 I still dont know how much I weigh. I really try not to classify myself with a number, but read somewhere that a SSBBW is more then 300 pounds. I know I am a SSBBW. I put silver rings of light over my wrists and smile as the reflected shine sparkles and is lighter then my own skin.
"I am a big girl," I repeat. "I am in charge. I can do this."
My belly hangs over the skirt just a bit, enough to let you know I have one. I have 2 large round rolls for a midsection. I am so jealous of those girls who have one large round stomach, as mines cut in half. I run my hands over the soft silk of the halter top, over my large DD breasts. To my core, my belly I stop.
The off center cut of the shirt tends to mask my lower belly with the contrasting black skirt. This makes me sort of sad for a moment, am I lying to myself? I am a big girl, but not everyones cup of tea.
I scan over the soft skirt, thin and frilly at the bottom, to my knees. They are a startling color, the color of a full moon in the perfectly dark sky. Such milky white skin, looks like 2 rivers of milk being poured into my heels. They clasp at my ankles, which were a bit hard to close with out putting my leg against the bed for support.
I have grown, and for a moment cupcakes, cookies, and candy bars dance before my eyes as I relive the moments I sat and ate them all. The heels add 3 inches, if not 4 inches. My hair is very dark, and in ringlets down my back. It looks like it was spun out of the same soft shiny fabric as the black skirt. My bangs sit around my eyes, and of course my signature purple eyes peek out.
I catch myself staring in the mirror and I catch my breath at the same time.
I drive to the bar and grill. One of those cheesy places with all the sports memorabilia on the walls. I always thought the decorations were a distraction from how crummy the food actually is. I park off to the left of the entrance. I grab a stick of gum, and grumble thinking about how I shouldnt have skipped lunch. As the greeter opens the door the smells of the sweet liquors at the bar and french-fries in the kitchen overtake me.
For a moment I am simply lost in the smells. I stand there and take in this place, gaudy and tacky to me. I would much have preferred a spot at my favorite pizza place where Mario the chef knows I love mushrooms, but my date insisted upon this place. It is almost happy hour, but I scold myself for thinking that. A woman shouldnt have more then 2 drinks on a date. I state my last name, and who I am supposed to be meeting to a wafer of a fragile creature. She looks me over without a smile, even though I am giving my mega watts a flip on, and says to follow her.
As I reach the table there is an older man there. Not bad looking. He sits with his hair greased and combed into a pony tail. His suit is dark grey, and his tie is a nice off white. He is leaning back, and when I follow his glance it is to a petite blond woman a few tables over. I sigh, knowing this wont go as good as it did in my mind.
Hi, I am Amatrix. I pipe up after I clear my throat and he is still looking at the slim blond.
Oh, hello. I am your date tonight. He doesnt stand or offer his hand, and takes a sip of his dark concoction in his glass, sneaking one last peek at the blond.
Right, what was your name? I say as I sit down, bending a bit to make eye contact clear to him.
Oh, sorry my name is Jason. He quickly adds and motions for the waitress.
Throughout drinks things go from odd, to strange, to worse. He stares at my breasts, and suggests the salad for me when I correct him and place my order with the waitress she snorts and turns on her heels like I shouldnt order real food. My frustration grows. When he says he likes women with meat on their bones, and women who know what they want he winks.
I ignore this and pretend as if I am doing him a favor by acting like he has something in his eye. Into my 3rd Electric Long Island Iced Tea, things seem smoother. Everything looks shiny, and my laughter comes quicker then the dinner we ordered.
It is a busy place tonight. Food is taking awhile, he manages after I make a joke about his profession, comparing a shark to a lawyer. At this moment, I would rather swim with a shark then this jerk I really thought he would have smiled, but even as I made the fish face he didnt budge.
Right, it is taking awhile. I excuse myself and head towards the bathrooms, with cute little signs of female and male ducks on the doors. These doors are insanely close to the damned kitchen
And there he was. This tall, handsome man was in there grabbing dishes of food, adding sauce to them with skill and attention of a professional chef. In the cold metal of the kitchen and the white linen of the other chefs I knew he was a waiter here. He was about 6 5 tall, dirty blond or light brown. His voice was youthful, and his smile was just as happy as the jig he did while grabbing plates for his customers. I happened to catch his eyes, a mixture of color and emotions came over me. I forgot to breathe; he saw me and he made a noise
Things got kind of bad for me right then. The doors to the bathrooms opened out, right into my face. He was trying to warn me as I stood gawking right at him. Was this really lights out?
Then before I knew it I was in a small office, with this man. A bag of ice wrapped in a clean white cloth against my cheek.
Well there is my Sleeping Beauty! His face comes into focus and I wince as the pain does as well.
Take it easy, you got bonked. He smiles at me, like a sunset. He places his hand on my knee, right where the skirt ends, and I cant feel anything but fire. He looks down and sees what he did, and actually blushes.
Sorry. Is all I can push out of my mouth. I think then the booze, and lack of fun in my life lately pushed me to look him over, and touch his name tag.
Thank you Alan. When I say his name I look him straight into his eyes. He lets out a strange giggle and asks me my name. When I let him know this, he explains where I am.
This is the office, I get my paycheck here. It was the only place I could think of that was quiet, and umm secluded. Not like I am trying to keep you from your boyfriend, just didnt want you to come around on the floor, in front of the bathroom.
Thanks Alan. He, that guy, is not my boyfriend.
Well I heard some pretty good belly laughs from you, so I just figured. I am sorry. I was worried he might be worried about you.
Looking me over, he smiles at the word belly. I dont know if I am offended or slightly turned on with this remark and cheeky humor.
I doubt he even knows I am gone. I am not really his type. He wants someone thin, slim and dumb. I take the cloth of ice and put is aside. He stays close to me still, and sits next to me on the desk, a tight fit with my ample bottom there already.
Sounds like Prince Charming. He makes a frog face, and lets a comfortable pause happen.
I saw you in the kitchen I turn to meet his eyes, lips inches from mine. He is leaning into me; his hand sashayed with mine behind me.
I know. I saw you standing there. Alan breathes out, and breathes me in.
Alan places he hand against my cheek, the not bruised one. When we connect, its just a moment. Soft and firm his lips brush mine. I look at him and his eyes are still closed.
Wow. He opens his eyes again, pupils dilated.
I blush and take his hand. Embarrassment seems to overtake me, even if the shark out there is a jerk; no one deserves to be dumped on a blind date.
Alan, your sweet. I would love to chat, but I am sure you have work. I am so very hungry too. I hope dinner is served. I stand up from the desk, taking a few papers with me as they clung to my thighs. When they fall to the ground I bend to pick them up, ignoring my frustration at them. When I look back Alan is staring at me, his mouth is closed and his eyes are glossy. Reminds me of a cat when it has seen some prey, innocent and yet dangerous.
He stands up, closer to me then a person should.
Shifts over, and I hate to tell you but your Prince Charming left. I came into work for a few hours, covering for a friend whose girlfriend is in the hospital. But when I went to your table he handed me your purse and said he had some important business to attend to. He looks down at me, and then over to the chair with my purse slung over the backrest.
Silently I thank whatever powers there might be, and smile at Alan.
I dont suppose you might want to get something to eat? He offers his arm, and escorts me from the office and out to the parking lot. The stars are already out, and I cant help but stare at them, and his laughter once again breaks the silence. He points out a few constellations, and then I point out the planets.
Now, what would the sleeping beauty like to dine upon this evening? his devilish grin and smile are as intoxicating as the sweet alcohol I had, but without the burn.
Anything, really I am starving. I plead as I rub my tummy in mimicking fashion.
Better not let the lady waste away to nothing then. He smiles, and then apologizes.
That was not a swipe at you personally. I want to be honest with you he looks to the left and then down as he kicks at some imaginary stones as I feel red creeping into my face.
Great here it comes getting told off again tonight- only to my face.
You are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. And he takes my hand.
I stand silently as our cold fingers intertwine.
Youre a chubby chaser! my laughter spills out almost as much as my chest.
Guilty! his smile and mine match each other. And he takes me by my middle and dances with me, under the moon light. His hands press me into him, and he sings Blue Moon in a very goofy voice. When he stops, and dips me slowly he once again caresses my face.
You are so beautiful. I cant believe my luck, says this angel to me in the pale moonlight.
We take and exchange numbers in case I lose him in traffic; I follow him in his car. We go to a late night grocery store. He says he wants to cook for me, and at 9 p.m. the store is almost empty. We see all the colors and he enjoys my face when I sniff the apples and run my fingers over the jars of spices.
He gets some shrimp, and red bell peppers. When we pay he makes sure I giggle when he uses his British accent to the cashier, a woman who tried to hit on him but he was busy talking about biscuits to me. The wine he picks up is a nice red, and he smiles when I pick out a 6 pack of Killians.
I know you are my type now I got a red, but we are supposed to drink white with shellfish.
Unless its salmon. I say bluntly.
Glad you arent going to argue being my girl. And with a wink he drives slowly back to his apartment. I follow him in my car, and instantly remind myself to be a lady.
His apartment is in a cute little place. Its a complex, but there is a garden out. He has fresh lavender growing and when I lean over to smell it right outside his window he places his hand on my hip.
Here is my castle. And with a click of the key I am placed into his sanctuary.
Instantly this cold wet thing is on my calves. This mass of fur and tail assaults me with dog kisses.
Down Karma be nice! Youre still my girl. His gentle voice calms her, and she sits with large brown lab eyes. He lets her out, and I take notice of my surroundings. Its clean but not like he was expecting to have a girl here. There is a couch and an entertainment center. The kitchen is an open area, with a nice stove. There are a few dishes laying in the sink, which he promptly places into a dishwasher when he sees me looking at them.
I sit on the couch and he puts in a Hungry Lucy CD. I instantly blush and pull the same one out of my large purse.
I draw, and paint some. It helps to be creative and listen to soothing things like Hungry Lucy. I think its funny as a fat girl, to listen to a band called Hungry Lucy. We laugh, and I go into the kitchen where he rewards my approach with a glass of the red wine he bought. He lets and instructs me to slice the peppers, while he makes some fresh pasta. He starts the cream sauce and explains how it will all come together while cooking the shrimp. I munch on some extra bell peppers and he laughs teasing me with a quick dust of flour.
When the dinner is cooked, which didnt take much time at all, the smells of the food and the colors are a feast of delight. The ribbons of white pasta, red peppers and the pink little shrimps look like Valentines Day, but to eat. I keep the wine to a minimum as he talks about himself, and lets me input information as well. Then the conversation twists.
How long have you been a FA? I ask with a small shake in my voice.
For as long as I can remember. How long have you been a BBW? He coos over his wine.
For as long as I can remember. I smile and now shot him a wink. We sit next to each other, instead of across from each other. Like the ribbons of pasta he slides his hand over mine like the cream sauce.
May I? he picks up my fork and carefully places a strand of pasta, pea, and shrimp with the delicious garlic sauce into my mouth. I moan slightly and lick the sauce from my lips. I see his eyes light up like a Christmas tree angel.
I like food I say before kissing him, full on his lips.
After this hurried hungry kiss, he smiles.
I like women who like food, and take pleasure in what I can do. His devilish grin suddenly turns very innocent. We finish the meal, and he lets me talk about how much I love my body, of course after complementing my attire. He listens as I talk about how my biggest desire is to just find someone who can love it as much as I do, just the way it is.
Before I know it the music turns slightly upbeat, and I am standing in his living room. I am buzzed from the absolute amazing food, the warm feeling I get after I eat. I turn to him and beckon him closer, silently he stands and moves closer. I turn my hips and shake a little bit in a slow teasing manner. I can feel my thighs moving under my skirt, and my belly jiggle.
He steadies my upper stomach with his large hands, and moves my hair from my shoulders to the left side. He softly hums in time and tune with the music. He sways with me, and then starts to squeeze my first roll. I am not surprised, I was silently praying for him to do this. As his hands start to massage and caress me firmly I cant help but arch my back a little and let out a deep moan. I put my arms around his neck, letting him have full access to me, my whole body.
My fingers slide through his hair and he strings me like a strand of pearls along my hips and over my thighs. His left hand moves to my collar bone and he stops my movement by turning my face to meet his. Breathless I can feel him, against my belly. Our tongues dance on each other, taking turns, and yet needing more. His mouth tastes like the sweet wine, his fingers still have some of the garlic taste to them. He wraps his fingers around mine and pulls me to the back part of the apartment.
He turns the light on to a queen sized bed in the left hand corner of the room. He has a dirty clothes basket and a computer in his room. He looks to me for a moment as if asking if having the light on is alright. I silently nod, and scan the room. His covers are pulled back on one side, indicating there has been no one to share this cocoon of blankets and the sea of sheets for sometime now. Once again he pulls me as close as we can get without becoming one person, and kisses me. I sit on the edge of the bed, while he kneels before me.
He takes my legs and runs his fingers over the left one, using his lips to cool his hot fingers. His skin tone looks amazing next to mine. Its deeper, but still complimentary enough. He kisses my ankles and undoes the straps which bind my feet to the high heels I wore for some reason I cant even remember now. He smiles at the green toe nail polish and repeats the same process with the right leg.
I havent even noticed it until this point but I am rubbing my stomach now, much like he did. Moving my hands form the top to the bottom, enjoying each individual roll. And moving my gut from side to side, squishing it into the middle like a package of pure delight. When he is done with my shoes, he sits there a moment and watches as I do this, which drives me even more insane. He takes my hands and places them on the sides of my body, for support.
Soft whispers of adorable words escape his lips and he lifts my shirt to reveal my muffin top. He kisses the edges, and looks to me for encouragement. I bite my thumb and then close my eyes, letting my head fall backwards to enjoy his lips on my full moon belly. He rubs and massages the moans out of my core, and before I know it I am submitting to his touch, laying back while he frees my bottom belly out of the skirt.
A flash of confusion happens across my face before he disappears below my stomach. He starts right where my underwear sits, and with his tongue traces a circle along my bone white flesh. His tongue is hot and wet, but his breathing betrays him as cool and calm. Lifting my skirt a bit higher, he is now wrapping his hands around my thighs. Smoothing over them, and pulling them closer to him. I catch his eyes searching for signs that I might not be enjoying this, but each time I moan or suck my breath in he closes his eyes for a moment as if he is trying to force himself to remember that moment above all else.
When I cant take it anymore I sit up, facing him. He is so tall that when he kneels before me we are almost the same height. His hands run the length and grooves of my body along my spin and up to my neck. He touches the small silver pendent on the chain to my skin; it sends a small shock through me as I look into his eyes.
He leans into me once again, and his own desire presses against my leg when he places his hands behind my neck and surfs through my thick brown hair to untie my halter top. The red ribbons that hold it up just fall to the sides as my arms trap the fabric to my own sides. He takes a moment and kisses my neck, biting me softly before moving lower. My breasts are large and my nipples are so hard that when he peels me out of my top he cant get enough of them. He gorges on my flesh, biting and licking as if these were two large swollen peaches resting in his hands. And his lips are swollen and full from kissing my stomach and his mouth is slightly open as he greedily laps at both of my mountain peaks.
My gentle giant takes his time with each one, even letting me enjoy them as I take the right nipple into my own mouth. He laughs and watches as I show him that party trick. He takes a moment to just breathe me in, and rests his head on my upper gut, now hanging over the skirt and trapped below my breasts. He wraps his arms around me, never touching to complete the circle.
I run my fingers through his hair and smell him, a man smells like a few different things. He smells like lemon candy and sickly sweet summer sweat. His head then again presses against me, pushing me to lay back. Much like a cat who is trying to love on you, he doesnt use words.
I think if one of us tried to speak right now we wouldnt be able to for a few hours. Our bellies are full, hearts are being exchanged, and all the blood is in our lower pieces. We have lost the ability to communicate Huston; if this is a problem dont ever send help. When I get the idea to lay back, he softly touches my tummy and makes me shiver a bit, and with increasing pressure he slides along my thighs. Deciding my skirt is no longer needed for this activity, he pulls at the elastic and I start to shake as my hips move up so he can slide it over my legs and to the floor.
Thank whatever there is that I wore these black panties tonight. I always think its important for a woman to have a secret, and I try to make a point to make it something sexy. Many people dont know that a nice pair of bikini panties, thin silk and very narrow bands can really make a woman feel like a Goddess. Now I share this secret with my Dear Alan. He runs the tip of his index finger over the ribbing on my hips. And I lean to the opposite side, so he can see how the sewing of the black silk is a huge black line that cuts along my hip.
In my family we have those large child bearing hips, and I pride myself on being a pear shape. Alan takes great delight in this soft flesh between my hip bone and my ribcage. He pinches it lightly, and then places a hand over it all, trying to concrete the curve of my hip into his now mushy brain.
Once again he kisses me with pulsing lips on my hip, and runs his left hand over the small of my back. Before he sits up once again he repeats this process to the right hip, even biting down on the fat and skin for a moment. His teeth arent rough or scraping, they are smooth and very firm against my soft skin that yields to him.
He smiles slightly and puts his hands on my hips, running his fingers under the seams of the bikini that keeps his face millimeters from tasting me. He flirts with the idea of not even unwrapping the present before him, maybe pulling some of the ribbon to the side, like you would a present to get a peek at the wonder and beauty inside. Knowing what is there, and yet being as excited to just rip it open and play with your new toy.
Finally he kisses my lower belly, and I once again rear my hips closer to his face as he slides the silk away. I lay there for a moment, not being able to see over my own girth, and I feel his breath on my thighs. I jump a little when his tongue darts out to lap my inner thigh and he holds me still with his arms on my belly. I watch my belly jiggle as I move backwards, and reach for a pillow.
He watches as well, and his face tells no lies. I move back to the headboard, and lean against a pillow. I start to do something I havent ever admitted to doing, or done for anyone else. I slide my top all the way off, my white porcelain skin is exposed.
I have a large full moon shaped belly, with 2 thick long tree trunks to support the moon. Tendrils of pure night sky fall from and around the eyes of a goddess above the moon, watching over everything. I lift up my lower stomach and softy message it. I get braver and notice Alan standing at the foot of the bed. He kneels with his left knee, taking of his own shirt in a hurry to not miss a moment of this woman loving each dent, crease and dimple.
His shirt is on the floor in a jumbled mess with my own, and hes watching as I play with my gut. His eyes are fixed on me as it wobbles and moves with the rhythm of my hands forcing it this way and that, it moves like soft warm jelly on toast. With a swift move he pulls my legs and that makes my arms stop working my own belly, he pulls me closer to him. He kisses my temples and puts a pillow behind my head. Hes got a beautiful picture, 3 of them in a row, of the ocean on his ceiling.
I stare at it as he kisses trails from my lips to my belly again. The fire inside of me starts to leap and burn again as he kisses my inner thighs, moving closer to me as a woman. He lays flat on his stomach thats covered with man fur, and slowly runs circles around me with his dangerous silver tipped tongue. His tongue dodging inside and out, around and over his tongue dances upon my velvet. Instantly the heat inside my belly moves around my own body, travels up my spine. He holds me under this spell, under the torrid waters of desire. He grips tighter onto my belly and when my legs start close to his tongue lashings he becomes all the more smitten and increases intensity with each movement. My hands touch his at the climatic pivotal moment of orgasm, and he holds them both, his face being lost to my belly and thighs.
When he appears again, his face is red from lack of air as I came. His hair is messy, and his eyes slick still. He lets me writhe around some, enjoying the pressure of his hands holding my hips below his own, and he moves above me. He touches a soft misplaced curl, and removes his jeans.
Suddenly I am jealous. These lean taught muscles, he plays basketball with his friends whenever he can, strain to move closer to me. His cotton boxers, skim my left calve as he removes them. They to join the clothing party near the floor. This devil of an angel of an innocent man moves forward.
He gently touches my sides and once again streams his fingers like fish following a flow of a river, like an expert playing strings on a guitar. My ecstasy moves me to moan and press my bruised rose red lips against his. I hold his face in front of mine and pull him on top of me. He is a stubborn man who doesnt want to get to the top of the mountain, but finds himself there regardless, and stares in awe of the beauty from above his vantage point.
He looks me in the eyes and moves to be inside the mountain. He is ever so gentle with his first thrusts, and sees how I writhe in passion again. He stops and kisses me, a sly smile as I arch my back further to meet him. I look down and I see his hair dark and warm against my alabaster skin. So much white belly and a little bit of his belly touching mine, moving in unison. My fat moves like hyper waves in the ocean with each time he crashes into me. His bed squeaks and groans in complaints of my weight. He lets little lights of moans out, while I cant help but make noise bursting like a flood light at times.
There is something very raw about skin slapping against skin to me. The movement of two people at once, as one. As two people breathe each other out and in again, becoming one, and just regular coming. I beat him in this battle of the sexes though, with my legs wrapped around him and his left hand on the head board, right hand on my hip he caved. I wouldnt let him know I actually was in heaven 3 times that night, each time it was a single stroke that he painted a perfect picture of sexual peace from him onto my canvas of me. Three to one isnt bad odds.
The tender moments when you realize youre sweaty and on top of someone, naked. The moments that the full feeling in your belly give way to the embarrassment you know you feel in your cheeks to the tips of your toes. These are the moments you dont remember, you remember how he might stay inside you, and move as close as you can both be. The threads of the connection you shared together moments ago slowly starts fading and diming. Still connected, by the heart he slides next to you. His hand on your lower belly gently kneading it like warm bread, and his other holding your head with his salty skin touching yours he whispers a question.
Stay please. And to respond you snuggle closer, placing your hand over his and pressing his touch to massage your belly together. In the still of the night, in your own cocoon of sheets, and a sea of pleasure you try to race the morning light back to slumber land.
The Worst Best Blind Date, Ever
by Amatrix
by Amatrix
So, I am sitting there with the phone I just placed against the holder. It is silent. I can hear my breathing, and my belly flip flopping like a pair of cheap sandals.
Ugh! My mind races. I knew I shouldnt have agreed to let my friend fix me up with a date. I know in my heart of hearts though, I need to get out. It has been awhile, and people might start mistaking me for some kind of recluse or something though. I just dont think my artsy friend, with his ties and khakis Dockers knows who I am, or what I really look for in a partner. I mean, granted he knows a lot more about men then I do, because he is one and takes home more then I would ever dream of.
It has been a rough ride for me so far. The first date was actually into swinging, and not from a rope. I met his wife after he tried to neck with me a bit on the couch, grabbing my belly as if it was his. I admit, I sort of liked how he knew to touch me. At the same time the site of someone enjoying my flab really shocked me, and I acted like I was upset instead. Then again his wife asked me to stay with them that night
The one after him was even worse. He just promised drinks. And then when we went back to his house he had candles and incense all over the place. We lay on his floor and listened to some Slayer. Then his kids walked in, and I just sat there as they called me Mommy.
I dont know what happened to me. I used to have all these men clamoring for my attention when I was younger, not that I am old. I am nearly 22. I guess the real attraction for them was the fact that I was younger.
Well, I remjknd myself, I must get ready and let whatever happens happen tonight. I shower, and moisturize with my signature scent. Lavender envelopes me and I even splash some into my hair. I know I am going to a place that doesnt allow smoking even though I smoke occasionally, but at least I will smell like someone who cares what others smell. I wear my red top that shows off my breasts, and still looks sweet enough paired with my black frilly skirt and high heels.
Standing at 58 I still dont know how much I weigh. I really try not to classify myself with a number, but read somewhere that a SSBBW is more then 300 pounds. I know I am a SSBBW. I put silver rings of light over my wrists and smile as the reflected shine sparkles and is lighter then my own skin.
"I am a big girl," I repeat. "I am in charge. I can do this."
My belly hangs over the skirt just a bit, enough to let you know I have one. I have 2 large round rolls for a midsection. I am so jealous of those girls who have one large round stomach, as mines cut in half. I run my hands over the soft silk of the halter top, over my large DD breasts. To my core, my belly I stop.
The off center cut of the shirt tends to mask my lower belly with the contrasting black skirt. This makes me sort of sad for a moment, am I lying to myself? I am a big girl, but not everyones cup of tea.
I scan over the soft skirt, thin and frilly at the bottom, to my knees. They are a startling color, the color of a full moon in the perfectly dark sky. Such milky white skin, looks like 2 rivers of milk being poured into my heels. They clasp at my ankles, which were a bit hard to close with out putting my leg against the bed for support.
I have grown, and for a moment cupcakes, cookies, and candy bars dance before my eyes as I relive the moments I sat and ate them all. The heels add 3 inches, if not 4 inches. My hair is very dark, and in ringlets down my back. It looks like it was spun out of the same soft shiny fabric as the black skirt. My bangs sit around my eyes, and of course my signature purple eyes peek out.
I catch myself staring in the mirror and I catch my breath at the same time.
I drive to the bar and grill. One of those cheesy places with all the sports memorabilia on the walls. I always thought the decorations were a distraction from how crummy the food actually is. I park off to the left of the entrance. I grab a stick of gum, and grumble thinking about how I shouldnt have skipped lunch. As the greeter opens the door the smells of the sweet liquors at the bar and french-fries in the kitchen overtake me.
For a moment I am simply lost in the smells. I stand there and take in this place, gaudy and tacky to me. I would much have preferred a spot at my favorite pizza place where Mario the chef knows I love mushrooms, but my date insisted upon this place. It is almost happy hour, but I scold myself for thinking that. A woman shouldnt have more then 2 drinks on a date. I state my last name, and who I am supposed to be meeting to a wafer of a fragile creature. She looks me over without a smile, even though I am giving my mega watts a flip on, and says to follow her.
As I reach the table there is an older man there. Not bad looking. He sits with his hair greased and combed into a pony tail. His suit is dark grey, and his tie is a nice off white. He is leaning back, and when I follow his glance it is to a petite blond woman a few tables over. I sigh, knowing this wont go as good as it did in my mind.
Hi, I am Amatrix. I pipe up after I clear my throat and he is still looking at the slim blond.
Oh, hello. I am your date tonight. He doesnt stand or offer his hand, and takes a sip of his dark concoction in his glass, sneaking one last peek at the blond.
Right, what was your name? I say as I sit down, bending a bit to make eye contact clear to him.
Oh, sorry my name is Jason. He quickly adds and motions for the waitress.
Throughout drinks things go from odd, to strange, to worse. He stares at my breasts, and suggests the salad for me when I correct him and place my order with the waitress she snorts and turns on her heels like I shouldnt order real food. My frustration grows. When he says he likes women with meat on their bones, and women who know what they want he winks.
I ignore this and pretend as if I am doing him a favor by acting like he has something in his eye. Into my 3rd Electric Long Island Iced Tea, things seem smoother. Everything looks shiny, and my laughter comes quicker then the dinner we ordered.
It is a busy place tonight. Food is taking awhile, he manages after I make a joke about his profession, comparing a shark to a lawyer. At this moment, I would rather swim with a shark then this jerk I really thought he would have smiled, but even as I made the fish face he didnt budge.
Right, it is taking awhile. I excuse myself and head towards the bathrooms, with cute little signs of female and male ducks on the doors. These doors are insanely close to the damned kitchen
And there he was. This tall, handsome man was in there grabbing dishes of food, adding sauce to them with skill and attention of a professional chef. In the cold metal of the kitchen and the white linen of the other chefs I knew he was a waiter here. He was about 6 5 tall, dirty blond or light brown. His voice was youthful, and his smile was just as happy as the jig he did while grabbing plates for his customers. I happened to catch his eyes, a mixture of color and emotions came over me. I forgot to breathe; he saw me and he made a noise
Things got kind of bad for me right then. The doors to the bathrooms opened out, right into my face. He was trying to warn me as I stood gawking right at him. Was this really lights out?
Then before I knew it I was in a small office, with this man. A bag of ice wrapped in a clean white cloth against my cheek.
Well there is my Sleeping Beauty! His face comes into focus and I wince as the pain does as well.
Take it easy, you got bonked. He smiles at me, like a sunset. He places his hand on my knee, right where the skirt ends, and I cant feel anything but fire. He looks down and sees what he did, and actually blushes.
Sorry. Is all I can push out of my mouth. I think then the booze, and lack of fun in my life lately pushed me to look him over, and touch his name tag.
Thank you Alan. When I say his name I look him straight into his eyes. He lets out a strange giggle and asks me my name. When I let him know this, he explains where I am.
This is the office, I get my paycheck here. It was the only place I could think of that was quiet, and umm secluded. Not like I am trying to keep you from your boyfriend, just didnt want you to come around on the floor, in front of the bathroom.
Thanks Alan. He, that guy, is not my boyfriend.
Well I heard some pretty good belly laughs from you, so I just figured. I am sorry. I was worried he might be worried about you.
Looking me over, he smiles at the word belly. I dont know if I am offended or slightly turned on with this remark and cheeky humor.
I doubt he even knows I am gone. I am not really his type. He wants someone thin, slim and dumb. I take the cloth of ice and put is aside. He stays close to me still, and sits next to me on the desk, a tight fit with my ample bottom there already.
Sounds like Prince Charming. He makes a frog face, and lets a comfortable pause happen.
I saw you in the kitchen I turn to meet his eyes, lips inches from mine. He is leaning into me; his hand sashayed with mine behind me.
I know. I saw you standing there. Alan breathes out, and breathes me in.
Alan places he hand against my cheek, the not bruised one. When we connect, its just a moment. Soft and firm his lips brush mine. I look at him and his eyes are still closed.
Wow. He opens his eyes again, pupils dilated.
I blush and take his hand. Embarrassment seems to overtake me, even if the shark out there is a jerk; no one deserves to be dumped on a blind date.
Alan, your sweet. I would love to chat, but I am sure you have work. I am so very hungry too. I hope dinner is served. I stand up from the desk, taking a few papers with me as they clung to my thighs. When they fall to the ground I bend to pick them up, ignoring my frustration at them. When I look back Alan is staring at me, his mouth is closed and his eyes are glossy. Reminds me of a cat when it has seen some prey, innocent and yet dangerous.
He stands up, closer to me then a person should.
Shifts over, and I hate to tell you but your Prince Charming left. I came into work for a few hours, covering for a friend whose girlfriend is in the hospital. But when I went to your table he handed me your purse and said he had some important business to attend to. He looks down at me, and then over to the chair with my purse slung over the backrest.
Silently I thank whatever powers there might be, and smile at Alan.
I dont suppose you might want to get something to eat? He offers his arm, and escorts me from the office and out to the parking lot. The stars are already out, and I cant help but stare at them, and his laughter once again breaks the silence. He points out a few constellations, and then I point out the planets.
Now, what would the sleeping beauty like to dine upon this evening? his devilish grin and smile are as intoxicating as the sweet alcohol I had, but without the burn.
Anything, really I am starving. I plead as I rub my tummy in mimicking fashion.
Better not let the lady waste away to nothing then. He smiles, and then apologizes.
That was not a swipe at you personally. I want to be honest with you he looks to the left and then down as he kicks at some imaginary stones as I feel red creeping into my face.
Great here it comes getting told off again tonight- only to my face.
You are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. And he takes my hand.
I stand silently as our cold fingers intertwine.
Youre a chubby chaser! my laughter spills out almost as much as my chest.
Guilty! his smile and mine match each other. And he takes me by my middle and dances with me, under the moon light. His hands press me into him, and he sings Blue Moon in a very goofy voice. When he stops, and dips me slowly he once again caresses my face.
You are so beautiful. I cant believe my luck, says this angel to me in the pale moonlight.
We take and exchange numbers in case I lose him in traffic; I follow him in his car. We go to a late night grocery store. He says he wants to cook for me, and at 9 p.m. the store is almost empty. We see all the colors and he enjoys my face when I sniff the apples and run my fingers over the jars of spices.
He gets some shrimp, and red bell peppers. When we pay he makes sure I giggle when he uses his British accent to the cashier, a woman who tried to hit on him but he was busy talking about biscuits to me. The wine he picks up is a nice red, and he smiles when I pick out a 6 pack of Killians.
I know you are my type now I got a red, but we are supposed to drink white with shellfish.
Unless its salmon. I say bluntly.
Glad you arent going to argue being my girl. And with a wink he drives slowly back to his apartment. I follow him in my car, and instantly remind myself to be a lady.
His apartment is in a cute little place. Its a complex, but there is a garden out. He has fresh lavender growing and when I lean over to smell it right outside his window he places his hand on my hip.
Here is my castle. And with a click of the key I am placed into his sanctuary.
Instantly this cold wet thing is on my calves. This mass of fur and tail assaults me with dog kisses.
Down Karma be nice! Youre still my girl. His gentle voice calms her, and she sits with large brown lab eyes. He lets her out, and I take notice of my surroundings. Its clean but not like he was expecting to have a girl here. There is a couch and an entertainment center. The kitchen is an open area, with a nice stove. There are a few dishes laying in the sink, which he promptly places into a dishwasher when he sees me looking at them.
I sit on the couch and he puts in a Hungry Lucy CD. I instantly blush and pull the same one out of my large purse.
I draw, and paint some. It helps to be creative and listen to soothing things like Hungry Lucy. I think its funny as a fat girl, to listen to a band called Hungry Lucy. We laugh, and I go into the kitchen where he rewards my approach with a glass of the red wine he bought. He lets and instructs me to slice the peppers, while he makes some fresh pasta. He starts the cream sauce and explains how it will all come together while cooking the shrimp. I munch on some extra bell peppers and he laughs teasing me with a quick dust of flour.
When the dinner is cooked, which didnt take much time at all, the smells of the food and the colors are a feast of delight. The ribbons of white pasta, red peppers and the pink little shrimps look like Valentines Day, but to eat. I keep the wine to a minimum as he talks about himself, and lets me input information as well. Then the conversation twists.
How long have you been a FA? I ask with a small shake in my voice.
For as long as I can remember. How long have you been a BBW? He coos over his wine.
For as long as I can remember. I smile and now shot him a wink. We sit next to each other, instead of across from each other. Like the ribbons of pasta he slides his hand over mine like the cream sauce.
May I? he picks up my fork and carefully places a strand of pasta, pea, and shrimp with the delicious garlic sauce into my mouth. I moan slightly and lick the sauce from my lips. I see his eyes light up like a Christmas tree angel.
I like food I say before kissing him, full on his lips.
After this hurried hungry kiss, he smiles.
I like women who like food, and take pleasure in what I can do. His devilish grin suddenly turns very innocent. We finish the meal, and he lets me talk about how much I love my body, of course after complementing my attire. He listens as I talk about how my biggest desire is to just find someone who can love it as much as I do, just the way it is.
Before I know it the music turns slightly upbeat, and I am standing in his living room. I am buzzed from the absolute amazing food, the warm feeling I get after I eat. I turn to him and beckon him closer, silently he stands and moves closer. I turn my hips and shake a little bit in a slow teasing manner. I can feel my thighs moving under my skirt, and my belly jiggle.
He steadies my upper stomach with his large hands, and moves my hair from my shoulders to the left side. He softly hums in time and tune with the music. He sways with me, and then starts to squeeze my first roll. I am not surprised, I was silently praying for him to do this. As his hands start to massage and caress me firmly I cant help but arch my back a little and let out a deep moan. I put my arms around his neck, letting him have full access to me, my whole body.
My fingers slide through his hair and he strings me like a strand of pearls along my hips and over my thighs. His left hand moves to my collar bone and he stops my movement by turning my face to meet his. Breathless I can feel him, against my belly. Our tongues dance on each other, taking turns, and yet needing more. His mouth tastes like the sweet wine, his fingers still have some of the garlic taste to them. He wraps his fingers around mine and pulls me to the back part of the apartment.
He turns the light on to a queen sized bed in the left hand corner of the room. He has a dirty clothes basket and a computer in his room. He looks to me for a moment as if asking if having the light on is alright. I silently nod, and scan the room. His covers are pulled back on one side, indicating there has been no one to share this cocoon of blankets and the sea of sheets for sometime now. Once again he pulls me as close as we can get without becoming one person, and kisses me. I sit on the edge of the bed, while he kneels before me.
He takes my legs and runs his fingers over the left one, using his lips to cool his hot fingers. His skin tone looks amazing next to mine. Its deeper, but still complimentary enough. He kisses my ankles and undoes the straps which bind my feet to the high heels I wore for some reason I cant even remember now. He smiles at the green toe nail polish and repeats the same process with the right leg.
I havent even noticed it until this point but I am rubbing my stomach now, much like he did. Moving my hands form the top to the bottom, enjoying each individual roll. And moving my gut from side to side, squishing it into the middle like a package of pure delight. When he is done with my shoes, he sits there a moment and watches as I do this, which drives me even more insane. He takes my hands and places them on the sides of my body, for support.
Soft whispers of adorable words escape his lips and he lifts my shirt to reveal my muffin top. He kisses the edges, and looks to me for encouragement. I bite my thumb and then close my eyes, letting my head fall backwards to enjoy his lips on my full moon belly. He rubs and massages the moans out of my core, and before I know it I am submitting to his touch, laying back while he frees my bottom belly out of the skirt.
A flash of confusion happens across my face before he disappears below my stomach. He starts right where my underwear sits, and with his tongue traces a circle along my bone white flesh. His tongue is hot and wet, but his breathing betrays him as cool and calm. Lifting my skirt a bit higher, he is now wrapping his hands around my thighs. Smoothing over them, and pulling them closer to him. I catch his eyes searching for signs that I might not be enjoying this, but each time I moan or suck my breath in he closes his eyes for a moment as if he is trying to force himself to remember that moment above all else.
When I cant take it anymore I sit up, facing him. He is so tall that when he kneels before me we are almost the same height. His hands run the length and grooves of my body along my spin and up to my neck. He touches the small silver pendent on the chain to my skin; it sends a small shock through me as I look into his eyes.
He leans into me once again, and his own desire presses against my leg when he places his hands behind my neck and surfs through my thick brown hair to untie my halter top. The red ribbons that hold it up just fall to the sides as my arms trap the fabric to my own sides. He takes a moment and kisses my neck, biting me softly before moving lower. My breasts are large and my nipples are so hard that when he peels me out of my top he cant get enough of them. He gorges on my flesh, biting and licking as if these were two large swollen peaches resting in his hands. And his lips are swollen and full from kissing my stomach and his mouth is slightly open as he greedily laps at both of my mountain peaks.
My gentle giant takes his time with each one, even letting me enjoy them as I take the right nipple into my own mouth. He laughs and watches as I show him that party trick. He takes a moment to just breathe me in, and rests his head on my upper gut, now hanging over the skirt and trapped below my breasts. He wraps his arms around me, never touching to complete the circle.
I run my fingers through his hair and smell him, a man smells like a few different things. He smells like lemon candy and sickly sweet summer sweat. His head then again presses against me, pushing me to lay back. Much like a cat who is trying to love on you, he doesnt use words.
I think if one of us tried to speak right now we wouldnt be able to for a few hours. Our bellies are full, hearts are being exchanged, and all the blood is in our lower pieces. We have lost the ability to communicate Huston; if this is a problem dont ever send help. When I get the idea to lay back, he softly touches my tummy and makes me shiver a bit, and with increasing pressure he slides along my thighs. Deciding my skirt is no longer needed for this activity, he pulls at the elastic and I start to shake as my hips move up so he can slide it over my legs and to the floor.
Thank whatever there is that I wore these black panties tonight. I always think its important for a woman to have a secret, and I try to make a point to make it something sexy. Many people dont know that a nice pair of bikini panties, thin silk and very narrow bands can really make a woman feel like a Goddess. Now I share this secret with my Dear Alan. He runs the tip of his index finger over the ribbing on my hips. And I lean to the opposite side, so he can see how the sewing of the black silk is a huge black line that cuts along my hip.
In my family we have those large child bearing hips, and I pride myself on being a pear shape. Alan takes great delight in this soft flesh between my hip bone and my ribcage. He pinches it lightly, and then places a hand over it all, trying to concrete the curve of my hip into his now mushy brain.
Once again he kisses me with pulsing lips on my hip, and runs his left hand over the small of my back. Before he sits up once again he repeats this process to the right hip, even biting down on the fat and skin for a moment. His teeth arent rough or scraping, they are smooth and very firm against my soft skin that yields to him.
He smiles slightly and puts his hands on my hips, running his fingers under the seams of the bikini that keeps his face millimeters from tasting me. He flirts with the idea of not even unwrapping the present before him, maybe pulling some of the ribbon to the side, like you would a present to get a peek at the wonder and beauty inside. Knowing what is there, and yet being as excited to just rip it open and play with your new toy.
Finally he kisses my lower belly, and I once again rear my hips closer to his face as he slides the silk away. I lay there for a moment, not being able to see over my own girth, and I feel his breath on my thighs. I jump a little when his tongue darts out to lap my inner thigh and he holds me still with his arms on my belly. I watch my belly jiggle as I move backwards, and reach for a pillow.
He watches as well, and his face tells no lies. I move back to the headboard, and lean against a pillow. I start to do something I havent ever admitted to doing, or done for anyone else. I slide my top all the way off, my white porcelain skin is exposed.
I have a large full moon shaped belly, with 2 thick long tree trunks to support the moon. Tendrils of pure night sky fall from and around the eyes of a goddess above the moon, watching over everything. I lift up my lower stomach and softy message it. I get braver and notice Alan standing at the foot of the bed. He kneels with his left knee, taking of his own shirt in a hurry to not miss a moment of this woman loving each dent, crease and dimple.
His shirt is on the floor in a jumbled mess with my own, and hes watching as I play with my gut. His eyes are fixed on me as it wobbles and moves with the rhythm of my hands forcing it this way and that, it moves like soft warm jelly on toast. With a swift move he pulls my legs and that makes my arms stop working my own belly, he pulls me closer to him. He kisses my temples and puts a pillow behind my head. Hes got a beautiful picture, 3 of them in a row, of the ocean on his ceiling.
I stare at it as he kisses trails from my lips to my belly again. The fire inside of me starts to leap and burn again as he kisses my inner thighs, moving closer to me as a woman. He lays flat on his stomach thats covered with man fur, and slowly runs circles around me with his dangerous silver tipped tongue. His tongue dodging inside and out, around and over his tongue dances upon my velvet. Instantly the heat inside my belly moves around my own body, travels up my spine. He holds me under this spell, under the torrid waters of desire. He grips tighter onto my belly and when my legs start close to his tongue lashings he becomes all the more smitten and increases intensity with each movement. My hands touch his at the climatic pivotal moment of orgasm, and he holds them both, his face being lost to my belly and thighs.
When he appears again, his face is red from lack of air as I came. His hair is messy, and his eyes slick still. He lets me writhe around some, enjoying the pressure of his hands holding my hips below his own, and he moves above me. He touches a soft misplaced curl, and removes his jeans.
Suddenly I am jealous. These lean taught muscles, he plays basketball with his friends whenever he can, strain to move closer to me. His cotton boxers, skim my left calve as he removes them. They to join the clothing party near the floor. This devil of an angel of an innocent man moves forward.
He gently touches my sides and once again streams his fingers like fish following a flow of a river, like an expert playing strings on a guitar. My ecstasy moves me to moan and press my bruised rose red lips against his. I hold his face in front of mine and pull him on top of me. He is a stubborn man who doesnt want to get to the top of the mountain, but finds himself there regardless, and stares in awe of the beauty from above his vantage point.
He looks me in the eyes and moves to be inside the mountain. He is ever so gentle with his first thrusts, and sees how I writhe in passion again. He stops and kisses me, a sly smile as I arch my back further to meet him. I look down and I see his hair dark and warm against my alabaster skin. So much white belly and a little bit of his belly touching mine, moving in unison. My fat moves like hyper waves in the ocean with each time he crashes into me. His bed squeaks and groans in complaints of my weight. He lets little lights of moans out, while I cant help but make noise bursting like a flood light at times.
There is something very raw about skin slapping against skin to me. The movement of two people at once, as one. As two people breathe each other out and in again, becoming one, and just regular coming. I beat him in this battle of the sexes though, with my legs wrapped around him and his left hand on the head board, right hand on my hip he caved. I wouldnt let him know I actually was in heaven 3 times that night, each time it was a single stroke that he painted a perfect picture of sexual peace from him onto my canvas of me. Three to one isnt bad odds.
The tender moments when you realize youre sweaty and on top of someone, naked. The moments that the full feeling in your belly give way to the embarrassment you know you feel in your cheeks to the tips of your toes. These are the moments you dont remember, you remember how he might stay inside you, and move as close as you can both be. The threads of the connection you shared together moments ago slowly starts fading and diming. Still connected, by the heart he slides next to you. His hand on your lower belly gently kneading it like warm bread, and his other holding your head with his salty skin touching yours he whispers a question.
Stay please. And to respond you snuggle closer, placing your hand over his and pressing his touch to massage your belly together. In the still of the night, in your own cocoon of sheets, and a sea of pleasure you try to race the morning light back to slumber land.
