Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
About a year after I graduated college, I ended up taking this crap job delivering frozen food. Not exactly what I’d envisioned doing when they handed me my diploma, but an English degree in a bad economy isn’t that helpful. The pay was lousy, the hours were long, and the benefits were pretty scanty. That being said, there ended up being one good thing about the job…
It was the middle of July, and I was glad for the opportunity to step into the back of the truck several times a day to get out of the heat. “One of the few perks of this job,” I thought as I sat on a case of frozen pizzas, enjoying the feel of the icy air blowing over my sweat-soaked skin. Flipping through my paperwork, I saw that the next stop on the list was a new one, a residential delivery judging by the address. A pretty good-sized order, too. I moved all of it to the tail end of the truck, hopped out and climbed back into the cab, punched the address into the GPS, and off I went.
The stop was an older, five-story apartment building. I climbed back out into the sweltering heat, loaded the boxes on the handtruck, and lugged it into the lobby. It wasn’t much cooler inside the building, and to my dismay I saw an ‘Out of Order’ sign taped to the elevator doors. “Goddammit,” I muttered, double-checking the apartment number on the invoice – third floor, just my luck. I buzzed the customer’s number.
“Hello?” came a woman’s voice after a moment.
“Hi, got your frozen food delivery here. Is the elevator broken?”
“Yeah, sorry, it is. The stairs are through the door on your right, I’ll buzz you in.” Click.
I sighed heavily. “Shit, I hope this isn’t going to be a regular thing,” I grumbled, pulling the door open as the lock clicked.
Lugging 80 pounds of pizzas and TV dinners up three flights of a poorly-ventilated stairway in the middle of summer, as you might well imagine, is no picnic, and I was sweating like mad when I finally got to the third floor. I took a moment to catch my breath, thinking wistfully of my nice cold truck waiting out front, then wheeled the load down the hall to the right apartment and knocked on the door. “Just a second,” came the woman’s voice, and a few moments later the door opened.
She was, well, fat. Not chubby, plump, curvy, but fat; easily 400 pounds, I guessed. Not that she was hideous, by any stretch of the imagination – big brown eyes, glasses, a cute, round face, and what really caught my eye, enormous breasts. I’ve never been able to tell a woman’s bra size by looking at her chest, so I couldn’t say just how large, but these were massive, each as big or bigger than my head. She was dressed in a worn-looking pair of gym shorts and a faded t-shirt that was stretched tightly over the enormous expanses of chest and belly. It was immediately apparent that if there was a bra capable of supporting those titanic tits, she wasn’t wearing it. I was suddenly grateful for the stack of boxes on my handtruck that covered the growing bulge in my pants. I somehow managed to tear my eyes away from her breasts to focus on her face.
“Hi, got it all right here,” I said, indicating the condensation-drenched tower of frozen meals.
She smiled, a trifle awkwardly, dimples appearing on her fleshy face. “Oh, um, great. Thanks. Sorry you had to drag it all the way up here! Uhh, just leave it right inside the door?”
“Sure, no problem,” I replied, silently willing my cock to settle down. She stepped aside to make room, signed the invoice, smiling shyly, and closed the door behind me as I stepped back into the hall.
“Goddamn…” I breathed softly, closing my eyes for a moment. I could still see those enormous boobs in my mind’s eye, swaying and jiggling as she stepped aside. My reverie was interrupted by a thud and a curse from the other side of the door.
I knocked again. “Uhh, hello? Everything ok in there?”
“Owwwww fuck, my foot. The box slipped out of my hands when I picked it up,” came the muffled reply.
“Anything I can do?” I asked hesitantly. The door swung open again, and I saw her leaning heavily against the frame, face contorted in pain. “Could… ow, shit, could you please put these in my freezer izmit escort for me? I need to sit down,” she groaned. Now, company policy said we weren’t allowed into a customer’s home… but it was our product that caused the injury, so it behooves me to make it up, right? And besides… I felt my pulse quicken at the thought of stealing another glance at those tits. “Sure thing, no problem,” I told her, fighting to keep from sounding too eager.
“It’s in the kitchen, right over there,” the woman directed me, gesturing to her right. As I stepped inside, she turned and lurched painfully in the other direction. Her ass… my god, it was enormous. The best comparison I can come up with is a pair of beachballs crammed into a pair of men’s 3XL shorts… and I do mean crammed. I could practically hear the seams straining as she waddled away, the fabric taut over those round globes of flesh, that huge ass undulating hypnotically with every step. I could feel the front of my pants getting tight again.
I turned away, crossing quickly over the kitchen floor to a big chest freezer against one wall. Showing the various boxes safely away, I couldn’t stop thinking about this woman, replaying those glimpses over and over, imagining those vast, billowing expanses of skin free from the confines of those clothes… When I was finished, I grabbed some ice cubes out of a tray in the freezer, bundled them up in some shrink wrap from one of the cases, and tied it closed. Heading in the other direction, I saw the woman half sitting, half laying on a sectional that took up most of the apartment’s living room. A desk with a computer sat in the middle of it all, the pale glow of the monitor providing most of the illumination in the otherwise dim room.
“Ok, it’s all put away,” I announced. “Here, I brought you some ice.” Seeing her struggle to sit upright, I walked over to place the ice bag on her foot, propped out on the sofa in front of her.
“Thank you so much,” she sighed gratefully, sinking back into a mound of pillows behind her. “I can’t believe how fucking clumsy I was.”
“It happens to me, too. When the weather gets like this, those boxes get slippery pretty quickly. Are you going to be ok?”
“Yeah, I’ll be ok, nothing some rest and Advil won’t take care of.” She paused uncertainly. “Umm, I really hate to ask, but…”
I chuckled. “Sure, where’s the Advil?”
“Bathroom’s through that door, there’s a big bottle on top of the medicine cabinet.”
I came back a moment later with the bottle. “Here it is. I’m Dan, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you Dan, I’m Lydia. I’m so sorry for putting you through all this, I hope I’m not making you behind schedule or anything.”
“No problem, I was just about to take my lunch break. Know any good places around here?”
Lydia smiled. “Well… I’ve got frozen pizza. Umm, I mean, I don’t go out much, but…”
“Sounds good to me,” I answered, heading back towards the kitchen. I took out one of the boxes and put the pizza into the microwave, watching it spinning around absently. My thoughts were racing, imagining Lydia sprawled on the couch, free from those overworked clothes… those huge tits spread out across her round belly, jiggling with every breath, colossal thighs parted slightly, half revealing her pussy…
The microwave beeped, jolting me out of my fantasy. I brought the pizza back to the living room, where Lydia was now sitting upright and typing on her computer. “Pretty nice setup you have here,” I offered, handing her a slice.
“Yeah, I spend a lot of time online. I work from home, and when I’m not working I’m usually playing Warcraft or Facebooking. Gotta love the internet, right? You can get pretty much everything you need without leaving the house, thank god.”
“Hey, the outside’s not so bad… today’s weather notwithstanding.” I smiled.
She sighed heavily. “Easy for you to say. I go out, and people look at me like I’m some sort of freak, or just some pathetic, nasty-smelling subhuman. And don’t even get me started on the fat jokes, the snide comments… fuck that shit. I don’t need people calling me a fat ugly slob behind my back.”
“Hey, you’re kadıköy escort not ugly!” I protested.
“Yeah, but I’m fat as hell. I mean, look at me! I don’t even know how much I weigh any more, I stopped checking a long time ago.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“Shit, my vibrator would probably turn me down if it had eyes…” Lydia flushed. “Uhh, sorry, TMI much, right?”
I had a sudden, involuntary mental image of her nude again, cupping one huge tit with one hand while working her pussy with a buzzing toy, buried deep between her fleshy thighs. “Uh, no problem. And I think you’re sexy as… um…” I halted mid-sentence, blushing. “Sorry, that was out of line, wasn’t it?”
Lydia gave me a long, searching look. “Sexy? What, you into fat chicks?” She squeezed one breast through her t-shirt. “You like big floppy tits or something?”
I gulped. “Fuck it, worst that can happen is she calls the company and I get fired… go for it,” I thought. “Yeah… yeah, I do,” I answered. “Not just big boobs though… big butts, thick thighs, round bellies… guess I’m what you’d call a chubby chaser, huh?” I held my breath, waiting to see how Lydia would respond.
She gave me another probing look, then slowly reached down to grasp the bottom of her shirt. Not taking her eyes off my face, Lydia began pulling the shirt up, over the pale mountain of her belly. The fabric caught beneath her tits for a moment, then popped free, unleashing a billowing flood of massive mammaries. I stared hungrily at those incredible breasts as they spilled free, rippling down to her round belly and off to each side, wide areola tipped with thick, erect nipples. “So… this gets you hard, huh?” Lydia asked in a throaty voice. I nodded dumbly, struck speechless at the sight. “Let me see,” she continued.
I stood up quickly and stepped over to the couch, my cock straining desperately at the fabric of my pants. Lydia’s gaze dropped to my crotch, and she smiled. “Mmm, I guess you really do like big girls,” she purred, reaching out to stroke the front of my pants. I reached out for her, needing both hands to hold just one breast, the creamy pale flesh warm and soft to the touch. She exhaled loudly, leaning back onto the couch while gently stroking my cock through my clothes.
Kneeling next to her, I brought my face to her chest, kissing her ample breasts while my hands continued to cup and caress them. Lydia moaned softly as my mouth found her nipple, kissing it and taking it into my mouth. Pinching the erect nub between my teeth, I flicked my tongue back and forth across the tip, and my efforts were rewarded with a gasp. “Ohhh fuck yes,” she moaned. “Bite it harder, Dan.” I obliged, and Lydia’s back arched in response.
I switched my attentions to the other side, pulling her other breast over to my mouth as Lydia grasped my head, pulling my face into her chest. Tit flesh surrounded my face, hot and smooth and soft, blotting out all sound other than the pounding of blood in my veins, all other sight and smell other than those enormous, heavenly breasts. When I came up for air, she was was staring at me with an eager gleam in her eyes. “What about fat pussy, huh? You like getting between big-ass legs and tasting some fat wet cunt? You like having some huge fatty rub her cunt juices all over your face?” By way of answer, I shifted position, my hands running over her jiggling stomach to search out the waistband of her shorts. Lydia lifted her ass up as far as she could, but even so, removing the shorts from her huge ass was a struggle. Finally, the beleaguered stitching surrendered, the seam splitting down the side of her hip.
“Fuck it, don’t worry about it,” she panted, “get them off, I need to feel your tongue in my cunt.” Between the two of us, we managed to get the ruined shorts down to her knees, then off entirely. Lydia’s thighs were as enormous as the rest of her, thick columns of wobbling white flesh. She spread them as wide as her body and the couch would allow, revealing her bushy pubis, the hairs already damp with sweat and the wetness of her pussy. I felt her hands on the back of my head, insistently guiding kahramanmaraş escort my face between her fat thighs.
I kissed the delicate skin on Lydia’s inner thighs, working my way up towards the musky aroma of her pussy. I heard her groan, and she pulled my head more firmly towards her crotch. My tongue explored her labia, circling around and around, tasting and teasing, before dipping into her juicy pussy. Lydia’s hips jerked, her thighs squeezing tightly on both sides of my head, as I fucked her with my tongue, slipping rhythmically in and out of her. I raised myself slightly, adjusting the angle to that my tongue caressed her swollen clit as I licked her, and even muffled by her thighs I could hear her moan louder, her hips bucking and jerking to the pace of my tongue. I reached around to cup her immense ass, holding her steady as her gyrations grew more frenetic, her chubby hands pulling me ever more tightly into her needy cunt. “Ffffffffuuuuuuck fuck fuck yes!” I dimly heard her cry as her body arched, quivering and shaking uncontrollably. A moment later, her hands and thighs relaxed, and I raised my face from her drenched pussy.
Lydia was beet red, gasping for air, sending waves through her belly and tits. “Just… A second…” she moaned, “then… cock… god, I want your cock… in me… fuck my… fat cunt.”
I stood up, hastily unbuttoning my pants, yanking them off along with my boxers. My cock sprang free, rigid and throbbing, the tip already wet with pre-cum. With an effort, Lydia lifted her huge ass up from the couch, tucking a couple of pillows beneath her before sinking back down. She propped one wide leg up on the back of the couch and put her other foot on the floor, spreading her great jiggling thighs as wide as her girth would allow. “Fuck me… fuck me now,” she crooned while reaching between her legs, rubbing her swollen clit. “I need that hard cock, fuck me hard!” I certainly wasn’t about to say no, I was aching for her just as badly.
Kneeling on the couch between her outstretched legs, I guided my eager cock into position and pushed slowly between her labia, both of us groaning as I entered her. Holding her wide hips to keep us both steady, I began thrusting… slow and deep at first, but building in speed and intensity. Her whole body quivered and jiggled with each thrust, her fat belly and massive breasts rolling forwards and back in time with my rhythm. Lydia let out a long, quavering moan, squeezing her thick nipples between her chubby fingers. I leaned forward, and between both our efforts we brought one huge, flopping tit up to my mouth. I sucked hungrily, pinching flesh between my teeth, and her moaning grew louder.
I felt the couch rock and creak alarmingly as I pounded Lydia’s pussy harder and faster, but I was too caught up in the throes of lust to care, and judging by her increasingly loud groans and cries, neither did she. I brought my hands back down to her hips, grabbing her tightly, pulling her towards me as I drove the full length of my cock into her, our flesh slapping together and the waves rippling through her becoming ever more pronounced. “Ohhhhhhhh fuck… fuck… fuck… yesss!” Lydia grunted breathlessly, her back arching again. She grabbed at me, fingernails digging into my shoulders, pulling me down on top of her pillowly figure. I eagerly buried my face between her breasts again, feeling the hot, heaving flesh envelop me as her thighs closed around my legs. I could feel the orgasm building, pleasure and pressure building at the base of my cock, my body tensing from head to toe as I fought to hold back my climax.
Lydia’s moans were reaching a frantic crescendo, semi-coherent gasping cries exhorting me not to stop… harder… faster… god don’t stop… Blood pounding in my ears, my whole body trembling with the creating energy of my imminent orgasm, I raised my face from her tits, gasping for air, seeing her round, flushed face contorting in the delicious agony of another climax. I groaned, gasped, both of us crying out in unison as I couldn’t hold back any longer, our bodies convulsing in orgasmic bliss.
It took me several moments before my head cleared and I could think clearly again. Weak and shaking, Lydia and I both slid off the couch onto the floor, our bodies still intertwined. I thought back to my first reaction on entering the building; on second thought, I mused to myself as I met Lydia’s glazed but satisfied look, I hope this *is* going to be a regular thing…
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32