Fluffy Fiona

Staring out the bus window at the downpour I chastised myself for not being a weatherman. What other job is one paid handsomely to be right less than half the time? If it was a matter of flat out lying a weatherman would easily lose to any politician, from all sides of the spectrum. When I listened to the weather report on the morning news while I scarfed my oatmeal and toast with strawberry jam he said there would be clear skies all day with less than a 10% chance of precipitation. I think he missed a zero because there was no denying the rain was coming down like a faucet had been opened.

I was regretting having ridden my bike to work, in the two to three minutes it took to put my bike on the rack on the front of the bus I was soaked to the skin. Being the beginning of fall I had worn a light jacket, it was soaked through along with my shirt. Of course our old friend gravity caused that same rain to trickle down the center of my back and soaked my underwear as well. I’m not a fan of sitting in wet clothes, shit, even my socks had soaked through my New Balance sneaks. Dang, I’d only had them a month and they were already on the way to ruin. If I had shaken my head like a dog water would have been flying three rows away.

It always amazes me how a twenty-minute bike ride becomes a forty-five-minute journey on a city bus. It made no sense to grouse about it, I settled back in my squishy shoes and tried to doze. Fat chance, there was more activity on that bus than a football game, people on, people off, and then almost miraculously … it was quiet. There was not more than six people on the bus, I had another twenty minutes to go and tried closing my eyes a second time. A phone rang in the seat ahead of me, a plus size woman with dark brown hair answered. The one-sided conversation went as such.

“Hi Julia, what’s up? – No, don’t. – Please Julia, let it be. – I know you care but I don’t want to meet another loser who’ll tell me I’m fat and have to do all sorts of sexual shit that I don’t want to do if I want a date.”

She slouched down a bit further into her seat as though she was trying to be quiet, that made me listen all the more intently.

“Well screw them, I may be fat and lonely but I’m not some cheap slut or piece of tail. It’s gonna take more than a fried chicken special at Cracker Barrel to get in my pants. – I know how old I am, did you think I’d forgotten? — I may very well die a spinster, but I’d rather do that than having somebody stick something in my butt that doesn’t belong there. And what’s with this shaved hoohah phase? Not me.

Listen hon, I appreciate your efforts, but I’m gonna let whatever happens just happen. If there’s somebody out there for me, he’ll find me. — Love you too.”

Discontinuing the call she began looking around, first at the three people several seats away who were lost in the ear buds, then to the vacant seats beside her. As she began turning to look at me I closed my eyes as though I was asleep. I heard her whisper to herself, “thank God.”

My stop was before hers, as I walked by I looked down, caught her eye and smiled. She grinned politely and averted my eyes any longer. She was indeed bigger than chubby, wide in the hips, heavy in the chest and had thick legs, but I wouldn’t call her obese. I noticed she had on enough makeup to enhance without looking like she’d applied it with a trowel. Her facial features were soft and feminine, I loved the long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders. I’d never thought about how glasses looked on someone previously, but I found hers to be an accessory to her beauty and not a detriment.

I was used to people not looking at me, turning away quickly or simply diverting their gaze. I’m the guy who’s been called weird his entire life, for you see, one of my eyes points inward instead of straight ahead like the other. When I was a boy the doctors had all kinds of supposed remedies for what they called “lazy eye”, not one of their endeavors helped in the slightest. It went so far as to having a special surgery when I was a senior, it lasted less than a year before my previous condition was back. I could see well, but it freaked people out never knowing which eye to look at. If I wanted to screw with their mind, I’d move them back and forth, they would generally walk away in a hurry.

Although the rain had let up I became wetter walking the block and a half to my house. After putting my bike in the garage I stomped and shook my body before I walked in the back door, I stripped as soon as the door was closed. The warm water of the shower felt wonderful, refreshing, it was reinvigorating my energy. Considering I’d gotten home later than usual I ordered Chinese delivery. With my belly full I sat in the easy chair pondering the conversation I’d overheard on the bus.

When I’d looked down at her I could see the outline of a bra through the wetness of her blouse. It wasn’t a super thick utilitarian number with shoulder straps an inch wide, instead it looked soft, and though her breasts were large it appeared to be comfy. I noticed it had a faint floral pattern, the more I thought about it in my easy chair the more I wondered if a girl like her could find a place for me in her life. She was overweight and lonely, I was a freak of nature and just as lonely.

The forecast for the next day was intermittent rain showers throughout the day. Well shit, that could mean just about anything, once again I found myself muttering, “damned weather guys” as I grabbed a slicker to carry along. I could have taken my late model car and left the bike at home, but as long as the skies were clear I was going to ride. After all, if it was raining, maybe I would encounter that lady on the bus again. Who knows where todays conversation might lead?

I don’t have a college degree, I took general courses for two years and dropped out. If the political bullshit could have been avoided I may have finished, but I was sick of being told how I had to believe this or that knowing history proved otherwise. I ended up saying to myself, “fuck um”, I’ll go find a job, which I did. I’m an expeditor at a large warehouse that delivers fruit and vegetables, better known as a produce distributor. Trucks would pull in and out all day long, some delivering, some taking, I was never at a loss for something to be done.

It was my responsibility to make sure what was on the invoice got onto the truck and sent to the proper place for delivery. Once it was out of the facility it was out of my hands. There were a lot of long hour days that at times which could be quite tiring, but in the end, it was a somewhat perfect job for me. I seldom had to interact with others, what I did was mainly from within the four walls of my office and that was in the middle of the warehouse. Operators would stop at the office, get the next invoice and take off. Once it was loaded and documented they’d return the pick slip and grab the next order.

I was 29, five foot nine, average build, had money in the bank and an affordable mortgage on my house. The late model Elantra in the garage was paid for and I was contributing the maximum to my 401K. Other than my errant eye I looked like every other nobody walking up and down the street. The next day it had thundered and rained throughout the afternoon, by the time I was ready to ride home the skies were clear as a bell, but I wasn’t willing to take a chance. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to toss my bike in the bus rack and see if I could find her again. To my delight she was already on, third seat from the back on the right-hand side, exactly where she’d been the day before.

I had been in the seat behind her the previous day and saw that it was open, walking to the back I took the time to check her out again while her head was looking down at her phone. Her breasts were huge, they had to stand out from her body at least six inches. When I got home that night I looked it up, a breast that size would be considered a DDD cup in the states, an E cup in Europe. Her top was a bright white number that had a satiny look to it, her skirt was a dark grey, the hem ended three or four inches above her knees. On her feet were sensible walking shoes, it was obvious she had been riding this bus for a long time.

As before, the first half of the ride was noisy, busy, and at times raucous. People can get their undies in a twist for the most ridiculous reasons, the second half was quiet and the riders sparse. As if on que her phone rang.

“Hello. Yes, my name is Fiona. – No, she didn’t mention you. — I’m sure you’re a real catch but I’ve never met you and I’m not interested in a hook up. — Oh, I’m sure you’d rock my world, you’re missing one thing. I don’t want my world to be rocked, I simply want to be loved. — No, screw you loser.”

At least I had a name. Under her breath she sighed, “fucking idiots.” I determined at that point that I was going to get to meet her somehow, and the sooner the better. Walking by her I looked down as I had the night before, this time her gaze held mine more than a second, I actually saw the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. This time I had the foresight to begin looking over her shoulder as soon as I stood, something that caught my immediate attention were the nylon clad legs beyond the hem of her skirt. Mmmm, a girl after my own heart.

Looking down the very front of her blouse I observed the gap between her breasts. I love cleavage, I love big tits, I love the thought of burying my face between them until I pass out from a lack of oxygen. It’s not as though I’d never seen breasts before, I’d had some fun times with a few girls along the way, but they had all been average size in every way. I’d had an intimate relationship more than a few nights, as long as we didn’t remain in public for very long. I must be a fairly decent lay or they wouldn’t have enthusiastically participated. Yet, I always wondered what it might be like to lose myself in a pair of big tits.

Looking back over my shoulder when I was a half-step beyond her seat I spoke softly. “Goodnight Fiona.”

Her head snapped up, as I descended the steps on the bus I looked back to find her staring at me. I wanted to smile and wave but thought better of it. Being late a second night I wondered about something to eat and then remembered that a food truck was usually parked in the play area parking lot this time of day if the weather cooperated. I’d had their enchiladas before and loved them, ah, saved by the food truck. I was watching some comedian on TV when I heard him mention his girlfriend wasn’t fat, she was fluffy.

There it was, I immediately cast aside every stereo type I’d ever heard mentioned for an overweight person and smiled. Fiona wasn’t fat, she was fluffy, and I liked her fluffiness. Now, if I could just get my hands on all that fluffiness. The following morning there was another rainstorm making its way through our area, there was no debate as whether I’d drive to work. I didn’t see Fiona again until the following Friday. I live on the outskirts of town and still grocery shop at the local store that’s been there for over 50 years. It had been an IGA when I was a boy, then it became a Kroger’s and now it was a Piggly Wiggly.

While shopping the pig who did I see coming down the aisle going the other way? Fiona. I wasn’t sure if I should greet her or let her walk on by. We were about to pass one another when she looked up and with a gasp she stopped. With a half-smile she pointed at me.

“You’re the guy on the bus. Why are you shopping here, do you live around this area?”

“As a matter of fact I do. I have all my life. I work in town and live out here.”

She chuckled, “Me to, I work in town but live three blocks from here on Avalon.”

I was pleasantly surprised, “Really, are you serious?”

Just then I realized a woman behind her wanted to get by, I started to back up only to run into the cart of the woman behind me. I quickly pushed forward far enough for both women to get by and turned my attention back to Fiona.

“This isn’t a very good spot for a conversation. Would you like to have a coffee with me later this afternoon?”

She frowned, “Mmm, I can’t. My friend’s four-year-old is having a birthday party later today.”

“Oh, is that Julia’s boy?”

Bad move. She stood rigid and snarled, “Were you listening to my private conversation? You dick head.”

And away she went stomping down the aisle. She must have left right away because I didn’t see her again during the time I shopped. I chalked it to another situation that could have been avoided had I kept my mouth shut, there were times that seemed to be the story of my life. I stopped riding the bus altogether, raining or not, I now carried a rain suit in the saddle bag and rode home in the rain if it came to that. Either that or I’d take my car. I hadn’t seen Fiona for some time having written her off as nothing more than a fleeting moment in my otherwise dull life. There’s a line in an old Jim Morrison song that says, “women seem wicked when you’re unwanted”, I’d come to expect nothing more.

It wasn’t that I didn’t have my fair share of women glance at me, that is until they had to look into my eyes, after that it was basically adios. Fiona had been one of the few who didn’t seem to care. The first had been a professor in my sophomore year, she took me under her wing as well as under her body. We’d been rolling around in her bed almost a month when the real person came to the surface. She wanted to do the handcuffs and me being her slave bullshit, that lasted as long as it took her to say what she expected of me. I couldn’t leave fast enough.

The second was a housewife whom I didn’t know was a housewife. She never wore a wedding ring and never indicated in any shape or form that she had a family. We’d been meeting for an early dinner and then adjourning to a hotel room which she always paid for. This had been happening at least once a week for almost two months when who should show up at our table one evening, yup, her hubby and two little ones. Well shit, I felt like a complete asshole. I was so pissed at her I couldn’t talk. It was the husband who spoke.

“Don’t worry about it buddy, we have an open marriage, she can be with who she wants. It’s just that tonight is going to be my night out and she’s supposed to watch the kids.”

I was so flabbergasted I tossed a hundred on the table and left. I found myself wondering why people exchanged wedding vows if they’re gonna screw everybody they come in contact with? I was pretty sure there was a sentence in their vows that stated, “forsaking all others”, or something close to that effect. That was my last serious bout of having intercourse on a regular basis. I’d done the hook up thing a few times when it got so bad my balls ached, but it always left me feeling lousy inside. Surely there had to be someone for me somewhere.

The place we referred to as town was actually a city of eight thousand now, where I live had once been a small community a few miles from the city. As with so many places, the city slowly encroached upon our community absorbing it a fraction at a time. It had become no more than a bedroom community these days, there were those of us who had grown up here, but the majority were transplants. No one really minded other than them wanting to poison our community with the big city things they so desperately wanted to get away from.

Each fall our little town has a harvest festival/craftshow that literally closes a third of main street for vendors. Traffic is re-routed parallel on side streets around the street closure. The festival is made up of mostly bangles and bobbles along with some of the locals selling late season produce. My dad spent his retirement in the little shop off the side of our garage, in it he made domed chests, making the domes from numerous pieces cut at the right angle, glued and then sanded into a smooth surface. He would take these chests of about 14″ deep by 24″ long and 20″ high at the highest point of the dome to the craft fair each fall and sell them.

When he passed on there were so many people calling about domed chests and when they could get one that I started making them as well. This fall I had 17 chests in the trailer, with one of each type of wood on display, of course, the more costly the wood the more costly the chest. It was nearly the end of the day with only three chests left, I determined I was going to hold out until the last minute in hopes of selling the rest. I was dealing with a customer on the very last chest as the cops were taking down the barriers and opening the street to through traffic, most other vendors had left an hour or more ago. I was on a side street so there was no great hurry. As I was folding display tables and putting them away I heard a voice speaking to my back.

“Do you have any more? I would really like one.”

I turned and made my way toward the voice, looking up after I’d stepped from the trailer my countenance changed. Standing in front of me was none other than Fiona. She seemed as surprised as I was, spitting and sputtering, looking for words. I said nothing as I waited for her to speak.

“Oh, it’s you. I didn’t know you worked for the guy who makes these. Do you know if he has any more at home?”

I decided to play along, “He does. He has one in pine that he just finished and one in oak that needs another coat of varnish. The pine is $375, the oak $450.”

“How soon do you think he’d let me see them?”

“Give me your name and number, I’ll have him call you.”

She was looking at me suspiciously, “You have my name, now you want my number. How do I know you won’t just keep it so you can harass me? How about this, why don’t you write down the address and I’ll go see him myself.”

I smiled, grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled my address. Handing it to her she wondered if I knew what time might be good the following day.

“Probably after lunch, he’s usually in the shop by then on the weekends. His name is John.”

“John what?”

“John Smith.”

“You’re bullshittin me, nobody’s real name is John Smith.”

I laughed, “His is, should I tell him you’ll stop by in the afternoon?”

She shrugged, “Sure. Goodbye.”

I watched her fluffy ass wiggle as she strode away, those snug blue jeans made it look all the more tantalizing. I had made sure I looked in her eyes all the while I spoke with her, but through my peripheral vision I could see those large mammary pushing tightly against the sweater. Once again, I imagined holding them while I sucked a big fat nipple deep into my mouth, lying in the valley of her thighs while I stroked in and out slowly. Her juices flowing copiously as she moaned in my ear for more. It wasn’t likely to happen, but I could still dream.

I made my way to the shop around nine the next morning breaking for a snack at eleven thirty. Sitting on a work bench with my feet dangling I heard a car door slam, then the click of hard shoes on the drive. I looked up as she walked in, she appeared dressed for church, a dress with a flowing skirt, the bodice wasn’t tight but there was no question she was well endowed. When she saw me she stopped, her body stiffened as she looked around the shop.

“Where’s mister Smith? I came to see him, not you.”

I had the upper hand and determined I would keep it as long as possible.

“Speaking.”

“Wait? What? Your mister Smith, but he’s an older man, my mom said so. She’s the one who sent me to the craft show.”

“That would be my late father, he’s been gone a few years. It’s only me now.”

She made a gesture with her hand in a sweeping motion, “This is you? You make the chests?”

“It is, I thought you were going to stop by after lunch? Would you like a chair, there’s one by the makeshift desk.”

Dragging the chair closer to where I was seated she sat down, the swish of the nylons as she crossed her legs garnered my immediate attention. The dress was over her knees, nothing showing buy calves and dark blue 3-inch heels, that had obviously been the clicking sound I’d heard.

“Would you like a cold drink? I have some in the fridge.”

She looked around again, “Do you have a gingerale? Where is the oak chest you mentioned yesterday?”

I slipped off the bench headed to the fridge, I happened to have what she wanted, I had bought it a few months back when my stomach was acting up. Putting the pop in her left hand I extended my other to take her right hand pulling her up.

“It’s over here by the bandsaw. Come with me, there’s better light. Do you mind if I call you Fiona? That is your name, isn’t it? Don’t touch it though, that coat is still drying.”

After looking it over from every angle without opening the top she looked at me, “I’ll take it. When will it be dry? Yes, you may call me Fiona and unless you were pulling my leg yesterday, I should call you John. Is that correct?”

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct. The chest will be ready by Monday evening, shall I deliver it? You aren’t very far away.”

“You can if you want, or I can pick it up. And stop calling me ma’am, I’m not an old lady.”

I smirked, “I see we’re off to as good a start as the last time we met. Do you recall? In the grocery store.”

“How could I forget, you eaves dropped on my phone call. That was just rude.”

It was my turn to bring the conversation back into my realm, “I seem to recall you were talking loud enough for people four seats away to hear you. I hardly eaves dropped.”

Shifting her gaze to my face I noticed she focused on the eye that looks straight ahead.

“Speaking of the bus. Why don’t I see you there anymore?”

“I ride my bike or drive. People think I’m insane to ride to work when I could drive, but it keeps me in shape, and I love fresh air on my face. I can get there almost as fast as when I drive without all the hassles of traffic.”

She scoffed, “You’re right, that is weird. Traffic is the reason I take the bus, I hate that drive. I still take care of mom, but at 78 with breast cancer I don’t anticipate she’ll be with me much longer. I was an oops baby late in life, my dad died before I was out of high school. This is her second go round with it, she’s not doing chemo or radiation, all she wants is pain management and to go in her sleep.”

I knew all too well what that was all about. I had watched my parents suffer through cancer treatments only to die in agony a short time later. Feeling bold I pushed the issue.

“Am I delivering or helping you load tomorrow evening?”

“Deliver, I’ll give you my address.”

While she was bent over the table writing I was able to glance down the front of her dress far enough to see a hefty amount of breast, the bra she was wearing was open toward the middle revealing a healthy amount of cleavage. By the time she straightened up I was looking elsewhere. The ride to work the next morning was chilly and invigorating, the temperature was only 42 but once I got going my body warmed to a comfortable level it was fine. It was after I arrived that the chills began, not because of the cold, because I’d be working late. I usually knew ahead of time when I’d have to work late and drove to work. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a flashing red light on the back of my bike and a strong LED for the front, it was more about drivers not paying attention at night. More than once I’d nearly been run over.

I was also supposed to deliver the chest to Fiona. Not knowing her phone number I had no way of contacting her and hoped she wouldn’t be to pissed if I got there after the seven o’clock arranged time for delivery. It was already ten minutes past seven when I jumped off the bike, threw my backpack into the hallway, grabbed the keys to dad’s old pickup, loaded the chest and took off. I backed into her driveway at 7:40. She was walking toward the truck with a look of disgust on her face. I thought great, just effing great, here comes another nasty exchange. At this rate I’ll never get on her good side.

Expecting an ass chewing I was pleasantly surprised when she spoke. “I assume you have a good excuse for being so late.”

“I don’t have an excuse, but I have a reason. I was told when I walked in this morning that I would be working late. Had I known I’d have driven, it took longer than usual to get home with all the rush hour traffic. Riding a bike that time of day is tempting fate. My apologies. Where am I taking this?”

She scoffed as she looked my way, “You don’t believe in using your phone?”

Deciding I was going to stand my ground I countered, “Hard to do that when I don’t have your number.”

The claws retracted and she smirked, “Oh that. Hmm, guess I owe you an apology. I want it in mom’s room so she can see it every day, follow me.”

Walking down the hall I glanced into a room with an open door on my right, on the bed was a pile of bras, panties, stockings, socks, and other underwear. An empty basket sat set next to it, I figured she’d dumped the clothes on her bed to fold and put away about the time I showed up. Being a red-blooded boy I slowed to absorb as much as possible optically, thinking it might be nice to see some of that on her. Or better yet, on the floor next to my bed and her naked waiting for me. I noticed her glance back and picked up the pace in accordance with her stride.

Her mother’s room smelled of anti-bacterial soap and looked like a hospital room complete with a commode and oxygen machine. The smile on her mom’s face didn’t fade as I carried the chest across the room, she pointed to a spot on the wall along the foot of her bed and motioned for me to set it there. In a weak voice she kept saying “oh my” as the tears flowed. As she regained composure she pointed at me.

“Who’s your friend Fiona? Did he make this?”

“His name is John grandma, and yes, he made the chest.”

I walked toward the bed to shake her hand when Fiona quickly intercepted.

“It’s better not to touch, her immune system is so deteriorated, any little germ or infection could be fatal. Your smile says hello, she’s happy with that. Aren’t you grandma?”

“Yes honey I am. So nice to meet you John and thank you for the chest.”

As I walked toward the door I heard her grandma whisper, “What’s wrong with his eye?”

Fiona whispered, “Later.”

She walked a few steps behind me closing the bedroom door as we left the room. In the living room she asked.

“Have you eaten yet?” I shook my head. “I’ll buy if you’ll fly. I can order Chinese or pizza or subs from Manny’s place. What are your druthers?”

“I’m feeling like Chinese.” I answered.

She smiled, “Me to. I’ll order and if you take off now it’ll be ready by the time you arrive.”

I was helping her clean up and put away leftovers, when she bent over the table to wipe it, I quickly stole another look down her blouse. Standing upright a foot away she halfheartedly scowled as she spoke.

“You like looking down my blouse don’t you. Don’t play dumb, I saw you looking that day on the bus and you were perving my undies when you walked down the hall. Do you have anything to say for such behavior?”

I was grinning ear to ear.

“What’s so damned funny?” She burst out.

“Well, I need to keep my man card up to date and observing young ladies exhibit their goodies or looking at unmentionables on the bed are ways I can do that. Guilty as charged.”

Scowling again she spat out, “Well you made me feel cheap, like I’m a commodity for you to inspect.”

Now I was in defense mode, “Did I touch you?” She shook her head. “Make any suggestive off-color remarks?” Another shake of the head. “Did I push you for sex of any kind?”

She spoke up, “No, you didn’t do any of that stuff, but I felt violated.”

I laughed as I pushed past, “Get over yourself Fiona. If I’d wanted to put the make on you there would have been no doubt. I was beginning to like your company, but not if you’re gonna be like this.”

“Like what?” She blurted.

“Accusatory, looking for something to bitch about, complain about, or accuse me of.”

I was at the door when she called out.

“John, wait. I need to apologize. I’m so used to being the butt of peoples jokes and the only guys who seem interested want me to be their personal slut. One guy wanted to be my pimp, telling me that’s what fat girls have to do to be accepted. You’re one of a few men who have been kind to me, I’m simply not used to it.”

“Fiona, I don’t care if you don’t wear a size ten dress, or have, what are they called now? Oh yeah, perky tits, or a quote, unquote, “fit and toned” body. Shit, I aint any of that stuff either, I’m just a guy looking for someone to fill my days with.”

She patted my chest, “I’m so glad you don’t have perky tits and wear a size ten dress. That would be weird.”

Her comment was enough to lighten the mood. I was politely saying goodbye when her grandma called out.

“I’d better go. Let me have your phone, I’ll put my number in. Call me tomorrow, please.”

As I lay in the dark waiting for sleep to ascend my mind wandered, I couldn’t stop thinking about her comments. Why would someone purposely want to belittle and demean her just to get in her pants? It made no sense. In my mind being polite and paying attention would get you in her drawers an awful lot sooner than making fun of her. I laughed to myself. Who knows, maybe she’s a closet vixon waiting for the right guy to broaden her horizon’s. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that I’d like to be that guy.

I dozed off with images in my head of cradling her warm, soft, tender breasts in my hands as her very wet cunt slid up and down on my pole. Of kissing and sucking her nipples, of feeling her body quake and tremble as I shot my load inside her, taking both of us over the edge and into orgasmic bliss. The last image was her lying on my chest, my cock still inside, both out of breath and her kissing me followed by,

“Thank you lover. Can I have your cock again in the morning?”

My waking dream was where it had left off the night before. My cock was so hard that I barely touched it in the shower and was spewing semen across the wall. My back was arched, my pelvis pushed out, my hand furiously working the last little bit out. I now knew I needed that fluffy minx more than ever. I had always wanted more than a simple , “hi, let’s fuck” encounter if you got the girl drunk enough, perhaps Fiona was that girl. One who would love and accept me for the weirdo I am and who was as interested in trying new things in bed as I was. Someone who wouldn’t be afraid to meet me at the door in nothing but her birthday suit and ask me to fuck her silly.

Those were normally the basis of my sexual dreams, a girl who wasn’t afraid to initiate from time to time, or haul my cock out to suck or ride when she was horny, to be a sex kitten without being a slut. To walk from her chair to the couch where I would be seated, lift her skirt above the waist and whisper.

“Take these panties off and eat me. After that you’re gonna pound my ass into the cushions.”

It always seemed outlandish, foolish and completely off the charts, but inside it was what I wanted. I just knew there had to be a girl like that somewhere. Somebody I could love, covet and adore, someone to lavish, to be my equal. One who had a desire to meet my every need sexually as much as I would meet hers. I didn’t want a woman to look like a slut in public, or have other men slobber over her, and god forbid, want to have another man fuck her. Whether I knew about it or not. No, I wanted all of that for myself, every bit of passion she had within, I wanted to claim it, to possess it, to make her know I adored what she did for me in every way.

The ride to work was exhilarating, the air was cool for that time of year, feeling the wind in my face combined the smell of autumn in the air made me feel invigorated. Work was non-stop mayhem the entire morning, it was well after two o’clock before I texted Fiona.

Me: Hi, how has your day gone?”

There was no response within a few minutes so I chalked it up to another adventure gone wrong. Just before I was about to go home my cell phone rang. I noticed it was Fiona and answered.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“Hi John. Sorry about before. I was in a strategy meeting and couldn’t break away. My day has been okay for the most part. And yours?”

“It was mayhem most of the morning. We have two new pickers and they had everything screwed up. The guy who was supposed to train them did a lousy job. Anyway, it took until after lunch to get it straightened out. What are we doing for supper?”

She chuckled, “Supper? I didn’t know we were supposed to be doing anything for supper. I can’t leave grandma alone, her care giver leaves at six and I need to be there by then. I have pork chops thawed, why don’t you come over, we could have them here instead of going out or ordering.”

“Well I have to admit that sounds a lot better than what I would have been eating alone. What time should I be at your house? Six fifteen? Okay, see you there.”

When I arrived she was in a sweatshirt and baggy shorts. Knowing she wouldn’t have gone to work like that I figured she had quickly changed before I got there. Her breasts seemed to move more freely in the sweatshirt, I wondered if she was wearing a bra. Following supper I brought dishes as she loaded the dishwasher, with a crew neck on the shirt there was no perving at all. I did like the way the shorts hugged he ass as she bent over. Yep, I could see myself grasping those soft hips, digging in my fingers and slamming my cock into her sweet cunny.

Sitting sideways on the couch we talked about numerous things, mostly the simple things of life itself. Nothing heavy or controversial. When she stopped and sat forward staring at me I sensed I was about to be asked something.

“Has your eye always been like that, or was it caused by an accident?”

“It’s been this way since birth. I had surgery to straighten it, but it didn’t last a year. I accepted my lot in life and told my folks to stop worrying about it. Ironically, out of six kids I’m the only one with what is usually referred to as “lazy eye”, so it isn’t hereditary. I can see like everybody else, the only thing affected is the peripheral vision on my left eye.”

Just then her grandma called out, Fiona went to her and came back a minute later.

“I need to tend to her John. Sorry, I wanted our evening together to last awhile longer. I don’t think gram will live very much longer, she goes downhill a little more each day. I wonder if you could do one more thing for me before you go home?”

I nodded, “Sure, if I’m able to.”

She smiled, “Oh, you’re able, of that I’m sure. Will you hold and kiss me goodnight?”

I didn’t need a second invitation, I slid my arms around her, drawing her body to mine. Her large warm breasts pushed into my chest before our lips met, with my hand on her back I felt nothing beneath the shirt.

Pulling back to break the kiss she sighed, “Oh my. You’re a good kisser.” Then she giggled.

“I see you noticed I’m not wearing bra. I did it for you. I really like you John, don’t break my heart. Now go home.”

The work week went along as usual with a new twist, we were texting or talking on the phone daily. I could sense that something wasn’t right, something in her voice seemed very sad and removed. I chose to stop by one evening after I’d made the delivery of an end table. She was surprised to see me at the front door.

“Oh hi John. I didn’t know you were coming over. Come in, please.”

“I hadn’t planned to, my truck sort of had a mind of its own and here I am. I was making a delivery and wanted to see you.”

She smiled, “Did you get the end table finished? Did they like it?”

“I did, and they did. I stopped to see how you were doing, you sound so sad on the phone.”

Tears began to well in her eyes, I’m not sure why but I instinctively reached for and hugged her as she cried. A minute or so later she pulled back, with her hands flat on my chest she took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s grandma, she’s reaching the end. I have hospice coming in every day, they don’t think she’ll last another week. She’s lived a long full life, she has no regrets. She’s leaving a small inheritance to my mom and the other two siblings but since I’ve been her caregiver for almost five years everything else is going to me. When I protested she got cranky with me, something she’d never done before.”

She let go of me, grabbed a box of Kleenex, sat on the loveseat and patted the cushion next to her. After drying her eyes and blowing her nose she continued.

“When grandma got sick none of her kids wanted to care for her, including my mom. I was just out of college and needed somewhere to live. I’ve been here since then, and I’m not complaining. I could have left anytime I wanted to, I just never wanted to. These years with her have been wonderful, she’s full of wisdom and wasn’t afraid to share it with me. I may be a bit weepy for a while, but I appreciate you stopping by John. Come, she knows someone is here, she’ll want to say hello.”

The moment I entered the room I recognized the last stages of death. I’d watched both parents go through the same thing and could sympathize. Sitting next to her with her hand gently holding mine she beckoned me to come closer, with my ear a feathers thickness away from her mouth she barely whispered.

“Take good care of my Fiona when I’m gone. She likes you.”

I glanced at Fiona who had a perplexed look on her face, I smiled and turned my focus back to grandma. When you’re as sick as she was a ten-minute visit feels like an hour, I could see she was tiring quickly. When I stood she squeezed my hand, I bent, kissed her on the forehead and spoke softly.

“I will.”

That’s all I had to say to bring a smile to her face. AI we were saying goodnight we hugged and kissed but no more, it wasn’t the right time or place. She asked that I not be upset if I didn’t hear from her every day. We’d spoken twice over five days since my unannounced visit when my phone rang in the middle of the night.

“John. Can you come over? Grandma is gone now, the coroner is on the way. I don’t want to be alone.”

I dressed and made my way to her house. Once all the commotion was over with, the clock showed 6:23. I called into her work explaining the situation, they told her to take the remaining two days of the week off. I then called and spoke with my supervisor, she was understanding and told me to not come in that day. The rest of the day was basically uneventful. I remembered all that needed to be done from my parents’ deaths, helping her with phone calls and the like. I felt badly for her when her mother and siblings only wanted to know one thing. When would the will be read and how soon could they get their money? As the day wore on we fixed a light supper and sat. The conversation became serious early in the evening.

“John, why are you interested in me? I’m overweight and have nothing to offer in comparison to most girls. Would you be embarrassed if we were in public?”

I knew I needed to be delicate and at the same time assure her. “Let me answer your question with a question. Would you be embarrassed to be in public with me? I’m nerdy, I have an eye that doesn’t look straight ahead, and I have never been accepted for who and what I am, instead of how I look.”

“I wouldn’t be the least embarrassed.”

“Neither would I.” I responded.

“Yes, but people can’t see your eyes from across the street, but they can surely see my fat ass.”

I jumped on that, “Your ass isn’t fat. Why do you talk like that?”

Scooting a little closer so her face was inches from mine she half spoke, half snarled, “I wear size 20 jeans asshole. That’s fat. I don’t have flab hanging off my body and I’m still solid, but according to my doctor I’m forty pounds overweight. So, mister, my ass is fat.”

I wasn’t sure what to do and left it alone. An hour later I made my way to the door with her right behind. As I spun to say goodnight she moved into my arms and planted a kiss on my lips that made my knees weak. Pulling back from me she said goodnight and to call if I wanted to.

I shot back, “I’ll see you tomorrow after work. We’re going out for dinner, don’t argue. Be ready by six.”

With a look of sadness she asked, “But what about grandma? She just died.”

“She did Fiona, and now it’s you and me. She asked me to take care of you, and I’m a man of my word. Be ready by six, dress nice.”

I drove that next day not wanting to chance a long bike ride home. I put on some casual slacks, a nice buttoned shirt, jumped into the truck and made my way to Fiona’s. Because I was hurried I popped into the Piggly Wiggly for a bouquet of flowers, they were inexpensive and nothing special, but they were better than nothing. As she opened the front door I was pleasantly surprised, she was in a skirt, blouse and stockings. The skirt was pleated and ended a few inches above the knee, the blouse was a soft looking cotton with a floral print. I could see the outline of her bra, I could also see her nipples pressed against the blouse, it was obviously not one of the molded bras that hides everything and seem so prevalent these days.

When I gave her the flowers she bent forward to take them, I took the opportunity to look and was greeted with a view like none before. I had been right, the bra looked to be of a very thin material and only covered her breast from the nipples down. I felt my dick begin to respond and quickly looked away. She acted like she was completely unaware that she’d given me a down blouse moment. I took her to Robbins Steak House for a lovely meal.

She wanted to stop at the mall to look at a dress she’d been eyeing for over a week, she was hoping it might be on sale. It wasn’t so we walked the mall awhile, by the time we left her hand was holding mine, I liked the direction our relationship was going. She invited me in when we reached the house, sitting on the couch she turned to me.

“What do I need to do John?”

I was confused, “Do about what? You aren’t making sense.”

“It’s simple. I like you, you say you like me, I’m horny and I think you are to, but I also know fat girls have to do extra to get laid. So, what do I have to do? Do I have to suck your cock and swallow? Do I have to let you humiliate me and call me piggy? Do I have to let you slap my ass and tits to show you’re in control? What do I have to do?”

I found myself at a loss for words, I took her in my arms and kissed her as passionately as I knew how. Sliding my hand up her side I gently cupped her breast, it was large, warm, and soft. Pushing back from her I kept my hand in place.

“What you have to do Fiona is relax and let me make love to your big, beautiful body. Like the song says, all of me likes all of you. If we reach a point where you don’t want me to continue, just push back. I’ll stop.”

She took my chin in her hand and said, “I won’t do anal. Otherwise I’m yours. Have your way with me John.”

I pushed back so she was against the cushion and began unbuttoning her blouse. With it open I could see everything, the material was nearly transparent, the nipples were hard, the areola were scrunched tight looking like she’d just climaxed. Pulling the blouse form her skirt I moved it off her shoulders and laid it over the back of the couch. I cupped both breasts, gently lifting, softly squeezing, moving my hands so the nipples were between my thumb and forefinger, rolling them slightly while pulling at them softly.

Her mouth crashed into mine as we explored each other’s mouth, my hands manipulating her breasts, her chest being pushed into my hands. Moving so her face was next to my ear she whispered.

“Take it off John. Let them free so you can suck on them. I love having my tits sucked, the feelings go right to my pussy. I like to talk naughty, please don’t judge me.”

I grinned as I unhooked the front clasp bra and let it fly over my head. As I took a nipple into my mouth she groaned and pushed her pelvis forward, her hips were rocking gently. My mind was processing what she’d just said, “don’t judge her”, not a chance. She was turning out to be the epitome of my dreams and fantasy’s. While working on her erect nipples I let a hand slide to the hem of her skirt, slowly I trailed it upward underneath along her silk covered thighs. I was a few inches from her pussy when she put her hand on mine stopping any movement.

I let the nipple pop from my mouth and waited, with a little whimper she began kissing me and used her hand to slide mine up until I was touching her sodden, warm panties. As her legs opened slightly I slid my fingers across the gusset, it felt hot to the touch, wet, very wet, the labia felt as though they were thick and puffy. My kind of pussy, I could only hope it was as ready to be impaled as it felt. Breaking from her I slid onto my knees, at the same time I slid both hands to the elastic of her panties and told her” lift”, with her ass off the couch I worked her panties free and off her body.

Pushing the skirt up around her waist I leaned forward with my face an inch above her pussy. I loved the aroma, the excitement her body was excreting in anticipation of my cock filling her tight channel. The light brown triangle was too tempting to not kiss and then move my mouth between her now spread legs. Her eyes were closed, her head was back, her mouth was wide open and breathing shallow as I took the first swipe of my tongue from bottom to top. The groan from her told me she liked what was happening. I teased and played and kissed the insides of her chubby thighs before I stiffened my tongue and attacked her throbbing clit. It looked red and swollen, the size of a marble and seemingly as hard.

With my arms under her thighs and my hands on her hips I was able to go with the flow as her body heaved and moved around. Her breathing was non-existent when the climax hit, she let out a soft yell, clamped both breasts with her hands and pulled hard on her nipples as wave after wave of bliss rolled through her pelvic region. I knew it was more than one because she would proclaim loudly.

“Oh my god, another one.”

I continued to lick until she pulled her legs up and rolled to her side saying, “No more, no more.”

With a shiny girl cream covered face I grinned and thought to myself, “Well done.” I went into the kitchen to wash my face, when I returned she was completely naked lying on her back with legs spread. Her pussy looked inviting, the wetness glimmered in the light of a nearby lamp, the few hairs along the labia had droplets coating them. With her arms outstretched she said.

“Come, fuck me John. Own my pussy, make me yours. I know you’ll start slow, but when we’re both ready I want you to fuck me hard. I like it hard sometimes. When we’re done I’ll show you I can suck a cock and when you’re ready to go again I want it from behind. It’s been so long, please baby, fill my pussy with cum. I want to feel it running down my ass.”

As she took ahold of my dick swiping it up and down the labia a few times to get me wet she whispered to herself, “Cut, I love cut cock. Mmmm.”

Putting the head of my dick at the entrance to her vagina she pulled me into her as she pushed against me. She was much tighter than I had anticipated, it felt so good. I could feel the ridges of my dick opening her and then the walls seeming to grab and caress it as I stroked. We had a smooth rhythm going when she reached down and hooked her arms behind her knees lifting her legs alongside her body. I knew what she wanted and went into locomotive modem.

I was pounding for all I was worth as those thick labia hugged tight to my shaft, I looked at one point and noticed a ring of thick white lather around the base of my cock. Her hips were moving into me with every stroke, as she approached her orgasm she let go of her legs, put her feet flat on the cushion and pushed up into me holding her hips an inch or two off the couch. I continued to hammer away as hard as possible, about the time she started shaking and yelling “oh fuck” my balls erupted sending volley after volley deep inside her. I continued to grind into her as her ass flopped to the couch. Faintly I could hear her saying, “I can feel it.”

I lay on top of her as we caught our breath, then pushed myself up and looked between us, she did the same and was smiling when she spoke.

“That was wonderful. I’ve always wanted to be loved without being made fun of or treated like a whore. I want to be your bedroom slut Johnny. You can do to me whatever you like, I’m yours. Will you be upset if I initiate at times? I mean, I might want to suck your dick or ride you on the kitchen chair. Would you mind if I did those things?”

I squeezed myself next to her on the couch while lying on our sides.

“That would be fantastic. I’ve always dreamed of a woman who wasn’t afraid to get what she wanted. But for now, maybe we should go to your room and rest a bit before you exhibit your cock sucking skills followed by a session of pounding your pussy from behind. Did you know you’re tight? I’m not sure how long I’ll last fucking you from behind, it’s one of my favorite positions.”

Pushing me off the couch and onto the floor she jumped up, reaching for my hand she giggled, “Mine too.”

After a quick rinse in the shower we dried and lay down. I have no idea what time it was nor how long we’d been asleep when I woke to my cock deep inside her mouth. It wasn’t a deep throat but damned close. When she realized I was awake she pivoted her body and placed her pussy directly onto my mouth. I knew I wasn’t going to cum like that and concentrated on her pussy, her head popped up and she let out a scream as an orgasm ripped through her body. Moving her off me she turned and molded herself to my side.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to make you cum. I can swallow. I’ve never had my pussy licked before last night, and now this morning. I saw the 69 in a film once, when you ate me last night I wanted to try it.”

I answered, “I like the feeling of your warm mouth on my cock, but I don’t always cum that way. Your pussy on the other hand, I always cum with my dick in pussy. I loved knowing you were sucking me, but I think your promise of doggy is more appealing at the moment. First things first though. I didn’t get to play with these much last night. Get on your hands and knees and crawl over my body until I can suck your tits. Just let them hang above my mouth, I’ll do the rest.”

She was cooing and smiling as I molested her nipples with my mouth. I sucked as much tit flesh into my mouth as possible and there was still plenty to play with. She sat straight up and lifted a leg for me to scoot under. With me behind she lay with her chest on the mattress, her ass in the air and a smile as she looked back.

“Hard and deep baby, hard and deep.”

Twelve minutes later I was moaning while I held her hips tight to my pelvis, arched my back and unloaded inside her. Her abdomen was quaking, her hips pumping back and forth, her breathing erratic. Her pussy was squeezing and massaging my dick, milking me for every drop available, I could feel my heartbeat pulsing through my dick. As I pulled out a long string of our mixed juices hung off the tip of my cock like a spider web, it glistened in the light of the moon. With a playful slap on her ass I pushed her forward onto the bed.

We lay spooned, my back to her chest, those large breasts pressed against me. Her thick leg draped over mine, juices leaking from her onto my body. That night was the beginning of a lifetime. A week later we buried grandma, three days later the will was read. Each of her three children were awarded twenty thousand, her five grandchildren excluding Fiona were given five thousand each. The rest was left to Fiona, including the house and property, an insurance policy worth 250,000 dollars and her grandma’s three-year-old Buick.

The house sat on a one-acre lot with the house toward the front. It was decided that we’d sell my place and put up a woodworking building behind Fiona’s house. I sold my old beater truck that had been used for deliveries, but kept the Elantra and bought a used truck in better shape. We’d been living together about a month when I came home after an unusually stressful day. As I walked in she took my coat, walked me to the living room, sat on the couch before me and began removing my pants. With them around my ankles she engulfed as much of my cock as she possibly could.

After her sucking and slurping over ten minutes I let loose an eruption of semen like I had never done before from a blow job. Fiona was true to her word, she could swallow, nary a drop escaped her mouth. At one point I heard her gulp, I smiled and said to myself, “That’s my girl.” She wouldn’t let me reciprocate telling me she’d been thinking about sucking my cock all day. I did however give her a resounding climax later in bed as I pounded into her flat foot doggy, a position I had introduced and she soon wanted at least once a week.

Fiona liked wearing sexy undies, each morning I would watch her put on sexy lacy bras and panties to match. Her abundant muff would push out slightly against the fabric, on days she wore a belt and stockings she would turn slowly. Putting whatever panties she was going to wear in my hand she would ask me to put them on her. As much as I loved that part of our mornings, we were always late getting to work.

We hadn’t married yet although we’d set a date and I’d given her a ring. It was at the Christmas party for her work that our love was tested, not by us, by others. Fiona was the receptionist/accountant for a local family-owned insurance agency. With it being their 25^th anniversary as well as the Christmas season they decided to celebrate both at the same time. There were 17 people present for the catered meal and then gathering afterward. Of those 17 people three were younger single men, I thought nothing of them in the early part of the evening. It was after the meal that things got dicey.

Fiona had gone to the bathroom and had been gone longer than what seemed normal. I looked around seeing if she might be talking to someone from the office, she was nowhere. I meandered toward the restrooms and as I turned the corner I saw two of the assholes molesting my soon to be wife. One had her pushed against the wall with his hand over mouth while the other was trying to yank her panties off. I’m not a fighter, never been a navy seal or Army ranger or any of those noble things. What I was however was a man who saw red, I waded into the fray swinging and kicking and doing anything I could to get them off Fiona.

The noise made others move into the hallway subduing the pair of miscreants. I looked none the worse for wear considering they’d gotten their licks in as well. My nose was bleeding, my ribs hurt like hell and I had a huge lump on my head. My hands hurt to the point I didn’t want to use them unless absolutely necessary. I’d never been in a fight before and I didn’t want to be in another one anytime soon. As the cops took statements both guys said Fiona had come onto them offering to give them blow jobs and fuck them in the men’s room.

Her eyes were frantic as she looked at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, shaking her head frantically. The upper part of her dress had been ripped open exposing the pretty red lace bra she’d purchased for that night and my pleasure afterward in our bedroom. When the cop got to me he indicated what the other two had said.

I looked at him with a one-word reply. “Bullshit.”

He snapped his head up, “What do you mean bullshit. You weren’t in the hall the whole time.”

“I say bullshit because that’s not Fiona. They thought because she’s overweight she’d be an easy target. Fiona is my fiancé, she dresses to please me. Take note of her dress, nothing provocative about it, what’s under that dress is not any of there, or your business. That’s for my eyes and my eyes only.”

The cop grabbed my chin to face him. “Speaking of eyes. Did they do that?”

“Not hardly, I’ve been like this my entire life. Can we go now, I want to get her home and safe.”

With our statements done we were told we could leave, as I escorted Fiona out the door I noticed the owner of the company to my left. He hailed me down.

“Mr. Smith please understand we don’t condone such activities. They’re both new hires and they’ll be immediate fires as well. I know that legally she can file a civil suit against the company, I’m asking that you don’t. Fiona has been with us a long time, we want her to stay and to know she will never have to endure anything like this again.”

I looked at Fiona, she shook her head and clutched my arm all the tighter. As we began to walk away I turned.

“There won’t be a lawsuit. We aren’t that desperate for money, and she likes working here. She won’t be in on Monday though, we’re going to the courthouse and get our marriage license. I’m not waiting any longer to make her completely mine.”

If it weren’t for the console in my car she’d have been in my lap on the way home. She couldn’t seem to stop sniffling. As we undressed she was trying to hide her body as if she was ashamed and didn’t want me to see her. I took the ruined dress and tossed it over a chair, when she reached for her robe I took hold of her arm.

“Stop this Fiona. You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. Stand still, I’m going to finish taking your clothes off and then I’m going to make love to you. I want to feel your fluffy body grinding against mine when we go over the cliff. I want your soft breasts with the stiff nipples to be in my face and I want to feel your pussy sucking my balls dry. Are we clear?”

She grabbed my neck and shook, “I love you so much John. No one has ever loved me like you do. I make this promise to you here and now, I will always be the love kitten you desire. I’ll be as wholesome as you like in public and as slutty as you’ll let me be at home. I’m going to surprise you and fuck you and suck your cock and let you have me anyway you’d like other than anal, for as long as I live.”

I unclasp her bra and tossed it onto the floor, next the panties slid down over her chubby thighs. I stood admiring my girl in nothing but a garter belt and stockings. Her breasts large and waiting to be played with, the perfect triangle of thick silky fur puffed outward waiting for me to run my fingers through it. Her legs spread slightly, her thick swollen labia waiting for me to stick my cock inside, I could see droplets of natural wetness on the hair along the labia. We may have had a delicious chicken breast for the evening meal, but I was about to have my soon to be wife, which would trump anything the caterer might serve.

I walked her back until her knees hit the mattress and she fell backward. I slowly undressed, my cock hardening as I did so. When I was naked, she sat up reaching for me, with both hands around my cock she put it in her mouth. Looking into my eyes she slowly and methodically sucked my cock as though she was worshipping it. Knowing I was getting close she pulled back and turned so her knees were on the mattress, her ass pointed at me wiggling side to side. Looking over her shoulder she purred.

“Fuck me John, make my pussy know you own her. Fill me with your seed. Breed me, I want your baby inside my tummy. Mmmm. Like that, yes, deeper. I want all of it.”

Somehow my level of stamina was in porn star status that night. She went through two orgasms on her knees before switching to missionary where we looked in each other’s eyes and whispered our love. After another orgasm in that position she wanted it on her tummy with pillows beneath her, I could feel myself approaching blast off and so could she. Pushing back against me with enough force to make me stop she announced, “Flat foot. Bury that fucker deep inside me.”

It was one of those unusual nights where we came simultaneously. I was spewing as her pussy clamped down on me and her body went into spasms, hips pumping, pushing her ass into me. As we lay catching our breath she had her hand on my chest, with a gentle tug of my hair she had my attention.