This story happened 10 years ago, when I was dating casually, exploring a wide range of sexual experiences.
Her personal ad was straightforward: Big Beautiful Goddess looking for oral worship. I answered without hesitation. After a few messages we exchanged phone numbers. She allowed me to call her.
The first phone conversation is the crucial transition from online to real life. Conversation provides the opportunity to decide whether there is chemistry between strangers. Her voice was cheerful. She had a sense of humor. A mixture of curiosity, excitement and just the right small dose of nervousness made us decide to spontaneously meet the same evening. Continue reading
This long period at home because of the virus has me thinking about different, better, times and the fun “close encounters of the delightfully dirty kind” that were then possible.
I always liked tall women, strong women, and slightly chubby women – more to love was my thinking. I had not, until one summer long ago, ever been with a truly big beautiful woman with all the ripe, round sexiness that implied.
“K” lived in the same building and we had friends in common. At first glance, she was cute – short (maybe ‘5,1”), short but nice hair, blonde (from a bottle), blue eyes, and a big smile. She was also a flirt and more than a little bit of a smartass with a tendency toward humor of a Mae West / slightly dirty variety.
Jeans and baggy tops were her usual garb. One day, however, I encountered her in the hall in a long halter top casual dress and sandals. The halter part of the dress strained to hold in two very large very round tits. The rest of the dress clung to be nice little belly and stretched about two large round hips.
We talked, I looked, we talked, and I looked some more. It quickly became clear that she was enjoying the attention because the halter fabric soon stretched to reveal the outline of two large and apparently very hard nipples.
We both had places to go and people to see and so a date, later, for drinks nearby, was made. All day I could think of nothing other than K and her ripe, sexy body that I wanted so much.
It was a drizzly Sunday morning and I finally had the house to myself.
Niki’s stunning green eyes were glued to the hallway mirror as she applied her rich red lipstick. I cleared my throat.
“What time are you back, my queen?” I asked with a high-pitch stammer.
She circled the small tube around her mouth before pursing her lips, and I wondered whether she’d even heard me. Twisting the lipstick closed, she popped it into her handbag.
“No idea,” she responded without turning her head, and retrieved a mascara from the handbag.
Her dress was the deepest purple and hugged her voluptuous figure. Her wide, round behind looked irresistible under the expensive fabric, and I pictured myself sliding my hands around the curves of her waist and kissing her neck.
“Are you eating out for lunch?” I squeaked, cowering behind the frame of the living-room door.
She made her way in my direction and my heart jumped as I dared to hope for a goodbye kiss. Instead she snatched the keys to her pink SUV from the end-table next to me and walked on by.
“I love you, my queen!” I cried, but the door had already slammed shut behind her.
I teetered on the edge of the sofa and switched on the TV. The roar of Niki’s SUV resonated throughout our peaceful suburban street, and with one eye I followed her as she backed out of the driveway. My heart was pounding. The moment her rear bumper was out of view, I leaped up and rushed upstairs to our bedroom.
Harsh sunlight burned in through the windows. I crept over to the curtains and drew them shut, enveloping myself in thick darkness. My pulse cracked in my temple. After taking a deep breath, I made my way over to Niki’s walk-in closet. I nudged the door open and felt along the wall for the switch. The room exploded with light and I slipped inside.
Designer dresses hung proudly along both sides while endless pairs of shoes, still housed in their boxes, waited bored on shelves. With my ears pricked, I tiptoed toward a brown woven basket at the far end and peered inside. Continue reading
I work with a number of attractive women. I happen
to be one of only 6 males that work for this parti-
cular business, and of the six, I am the youngest
25. The majority of the females that work with me
are around my age and attend graduate school in
similar programs as I do.
It is because of this that we have similar interests
and problems. I have often talked to them about
schoolwork or their opinions on certain topics or
problems with our relationships. School and work
happen to take up a lot of our time and our relation-
ships with girlfriends and boyfriends tend to
suffer. Continue reading