Her name was Marilyn, she said, as we stood smoking a furtive cigarette outside our respective work-places. She was a large lady, probably 200 pounds and 6 feet tall in her high heels. And while I’m not usually attracted to big woman, there was something about Marilyn that drew me to her. She had a pretty face framed by long, black hair but it was her confident manner, her casual frankness and her easy, infectious laugh I remember most – and to which I responded as I got to know her better.
I first met her in the winter when she came to work as a clerk at the flower shop next to my high-end men’s clothing store. We were both smokers forced to deal with our out-of-favor habit outdoors. We finally introduced ourselves one windy day when she borrowed my lighter and, bit by bit, I learned this much about her – she was in her early-30s, had never been married, had a generous boyfriend with some sexual hang-ups and was saving her money “to get the hell out of this hick town.”
At the beginning she was no more than an occasional companion when our smoke breaks happened to coincide. But as winter warmed to spring and heavy clothing was discarded I began to take more notice. Big as she was, Marilyn had a curvy figure she wasn’t shy about showing it off, the crowning glory of which was generous ass that formed a perfect sideways oval and swiveled seductively as she walked.
And she was always well-groomed, her long fingernails bright red. When her nylons came off in the warmer weather, she showed off matching toenails in her strappy high-heeled open-toed black pumps. By now the many variations of black slacks she’d worn most days all winter had given way to long, black skirts, most of which were slashed open at the sides. When she walked and the wind blew just right I was treated to a fleeting but appealing glimpse of her big white thighs. That briefly got my attention, although I still didn’t see her as my type. Personally I’m more comfortable with slimmer, athletic women more my age and size.
Early summer came. In our town that meant the retail business pretty much collapsed, especially on Sunday. But with not much else going on in my life at the time, I usually spent Sunday at the store doing paper work and serving the occasional customer who suddenly felt the need for a new pair of Bermuda shorts or golf shirt. Not many did. Sometimes I’d drag a couple of lawn chairs out front and spend a few hours reading in the sunshine while I waited.
On this particular Sunday Marilyn had joined me several times that on her smoke breaks. She didn’t have many customers either but her boss was inside so she couldn’t linger. In early afternoon, however, her boss had to leave for a family event out-of-town. I heard him tell Marilyn to be sure to lock up when she left at 5 o’clock. Marilyn flopped down on the lawn chair beside me as soon as her boss pulled out of the parking lot.
“Dummy,” she muttered as she settled in. Now that’s an opening line that inevitably leads to conservation. Over the next hour I discovered a lot more about Marilyn.
The “boyfriend with a few hang-ups” was, in fact, her very married boss and that the relationship had pretty much run its course. She wasn’t much exercised about that, she admitted, except for the fact he was kind and generous and the sex had been pretty steady – if not all that good. She liked sex, she said with matter-of-fact candor. She liked it often, she liked it hot and she liked it every which way, if you catch my drift.
I pretended I didn’t, hoping perhaps she’d expand on the subject. By degrees she did. Boyfriend boss was vanilla all the way. For example, she loved making love with the lights on; he liked the dark – “I like to see my lover’s body, I like him to see mine. I love the expression on a man’s face when I touch him, when I’m giving him oral and especially just before he climaxes in my mouth.”
She loved spontaneous sex in unusual places; he was strictly in the bedroom and usually hers, every Tuesday and Thursday night after work – “You know, I hate that. It’s so, well, regimented. I like to do it whenever I feel like doing it, wherever I feel like doing it.” She laughed in that delightful way of hers. “I offered, sincerely too, to give him oral sex in the office today, just before he left. I mean, what man wouldn’t want that – and I’m rather good at it, too, if I do say so. There were no customers. I even locked the front door. But, no, he pushed me away – worried someone might come in or something.”
She loved oral sex, in fact, both giving and getting. He took, he wouldn’t give – “he says he doesn’t like the taste or the smell. We’ve been lovers for four months and I perform oral on him all the time but he’s never returned the favor once, not once. I think oral sex is the ultimate intimacy in a good, healthy sexual relationship. I know it’s more blessed to give than receive, but sometimes a girl likes to get, too – at least this girl does. But when I’m giving, I like a man to really get into it – to just abandon himself to the pleasure my mouth is giving him.”
And, oh yes, she loved it doggy-style, she loved being spanked and she “loooved” anal – “I’m a big girl, eh, and you smaller men . . . no, no, I don’t mean there (that laugh again) . . . I mean men who aren’t my size, you men a harder time with a big girl so I just works better from behind, know what I mean?”
Hmnm, well yes and no. I hadn’t, at that time, any experience with “big girls” but I could imagine. At any rate, she continued, when it came that she preferred “an average sized penis, six or seven inches is perfect. You read all those stories – and I do like reading those stories, by the way – of men who are well-endowed stuffing nine or 10 inches into a woman’s anus. Well, maybe for some people but not for me. Six or seven inches fits me very comfortably without a lot of pain and that works for me. I can really enjoy it – and I do.”
Well, that would work for me, too, I thought, given I was right smack in the middle of her “average” range. Indeed, as she talked, my imagination was beginning to run wild. My stiffening cock gave lie to the notion this big gal wasn’t turning me on. In turn – and I wasn’t lying about any of this – I allowed as how I loved the smell and taste of a woman’s aroused pussy, doggy-style was one of my favorites and, although I didn’t have a lot of experience in the area, I enjoyed anal sex with a willing partner, too.
What I most remember about that afternoon – apart from the fact I was getting increasingly horny – was how at ease she was with her own sexuality and how articulate she was in expressing it. She wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest, nor was she bragging. She simply told me what she liked and why and to hell with what I thought about all that. Well, maybe. She must have noticed, as time wore on, how fidgety I’d gotten as I struggled to contain my growing arousal.
It started to rain in late afternoon. At any rate I was expecting an important telephone call and needed to get back to my office and she had some plants to water before closing time. We said goodbye and went inside our respective workplaces. I couldn’t get her off my mind, though; in fact, the more I thought about her the hornier I got.
I had just finished serving a customer – what was that, the third one of the day? – when she walked into the store just before 5.
“Would you like to go for a drink after work?” she asked.
“God, I’d love to, Marilyn, but I’m still waiting for that telephone call. Tell you what, though, I’ve got a nice bottle of white wine in the fridge. Fancy a drink here instead?”
She grinned and maybe she flushed just a bit. “Sure. I’ll be back as soon as I lock up.” She returned about five minutes later, as confident as ever. I bolted the door and walked behind her as she sashayed – that would be the only word for it – toward my office at the back. My eyes never left her the joyous sight of her sumptuous round ass cheeks bobbing rhythmically. My cock twitched and started to grow.
She plopped down at one end of the long, leather couch in my office – a trifle ostentatious I know, but it was about all I got from my last marriage and it didn’t fit the décor of my tiny apartment. I opened the wine, poured us each a glass and settled down at the end opposite.
“To good times and better lovers,” I said, raising my glass. She laughed, took a sip and then put her glass down on the coffee table.
“So, are you volunteering?” she asked quietly.
“Volunteering? Me, for what?
“To be my better lover?
I looked at her in surprise, then stammered “ . . . ahhhh . . . well . . . maybe.”
She laughed again. “I’ve got to tell you I got very turned on talking to you this afternoon and I think” – her gaze shifted to my crotch – “that maybe you did, too. So I’m wondering what you want to do about that, if anything?”
I put my glass down. “Yes, I would like to do something about that,” I said. I shifted on the couch towards her and took her into my arms. The first kiss was electric. Her tongue darted into my mouth as the rest of her very ample body moved seductively against mine. If I didn’t want her before, that single long French kiss changed everything.
The phone rang. I got up to answer it and she got up, too, mouthing “where’s the washroom” as I picked up the receiver. I pointed her in the general direction as I said hello.
She was gone maybe 10 minutes. I was sitting behind my desk I was engrossed in the telephone conservation when she returned. She walked around the desk, dropped a pair of black silk panties into my lap, then hopped onto the desk and crossed her legs. The hem-to-thigh slit in her skirt opened up and I was only scant inches away from the creamy flesh of her upper leg. I reached over to touch her thigh. She had the smoothest skin, warm and soft. I cut the call short.
I stood up as I placed the phone back in its cradle and pulled her towards me. We kissed again, urgently, ravenously. With fumbling fingers I undid the button at the back of her skirt and pushed the zipper down. The skirt puddled around her feet and my hands found the fulsome soft, round cheeks of her bare ass. Still kissing we stumbled back towards the couch. I pulled her sweater over her head and unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts. They were generous and saggy but I hardly cared. I buried my face in the soft flesh, savoring her scent and suckling the erect nipples.
“Let’s get your clothes off,” she said, her voice husky. She started working on my belt as I unbuttoned my shirt. She knelt before me, pulling my pants and underwear down together. Her mouth found my hard cock. She licked the shaft from my balls to the tip, swirling a droplet of precum with her tongue. Then she sprawled on the couch and pushed those big breasts together. I took that as an invitation and moved on top of her. I pushed my cock into the crack between them and slowly began to fuck her tits.
She pointed to her mouth. “I want you right here,” she said. “I want you to cum in my mouth and all over my face.”
No further encouragement was necessary. I slid my cock past her lips and down her throat. She murmured and caressed my balls, urging me deeper. I leaned over her, my hands on the end of the couch, and started to pump into her mouth. I could feel the pressure of her tongue along the underside of my cock as it slide it and out and the tip rubbing against the roof of her mouth. The sensation was incredible. As she’d promised, this woman knew how to suck cock. Too quickly, my balls began to boil, that familiar warmth began to spread through my loins.
“Ohhh, fuck,” I groaned. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna cum . . . right . . . NOWWW.” I felt a contraction and shot the first spurt down her throat. I pulled out of her mouth and shot the rest of my hot cum on her face and over her breasts as she milked me with her hand. I slid downward and collapsed with my head resting on her plump belly as she rubbed my cum all over her chest.
The came that gentle laugh. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said. “That’s just the way I like it.”
As I caught my breath I started slowly kissing my way down her belly and along the top and inside of her big thighs. There was a lot of skin to kiss but it was warm and smooth, almost silky. I worked my way to her feet, which were long but surprisingly slim with beautifully manicured nails. I licked her toes and sucked the big ones and then headed upwards. I heard her sigh and she spread he legs as I moved toward her pussy. I hadn’t really noticed before but she was shaved, clean and smooth.
She had a musky odor alright, but it wasn’t at all offensive. I kissed all around her pussy My tongue found the slash between her legs and I spread the lips gave her a long, slow lick. And then another and another. She was sopping wet and juicy. She squirmed and moaned. “Yes, baby, lick me, baby, make me cum, baby,” she whispered. She put a hand on the back of my head and pulled me hard against her.
Her clit was firm and erect and my tongue found it easily. I flicked the tip of my tongue up and down across it several times, then dipped my tongue into her cunt. She lifted me back to her clit. I started to lick in earnest, slowly up and down at first and then, over the next several minutes, more and more rapidly. She began to moan more loudly and writhe back and forth. I grabbed her ass with both hands for support to keep my tongue glued to her clit.
“Ohhh fuck,” she exclaimed. “Ohhhhhhhhhh fuuuuuuck.” I look that as a sign. It was the first time all afternoon she’d used any vulgarity. I redoubled my efforts.
“Ohhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuck, I’m going to cum, baby . . . I’m going to cum . . . Ohhhhhhhh fuck . . . OHHHHHHH . . . FUUUUUUUUUUCK . . .”
And then she did. With a guttural groan she thrust her hips upward and squeezed my mouth against her pussy. She shuddered.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh . . .”
It trailed off into a long, low moan and her body convulsed as her orgasm swept over her. Never had I experienced such a tremendous eruption of sexual energy.
I held on. I kept my tongue on her clit but stopped licking until her spasms subsided. As she gradually relaxed I continued to lick her pussy gently, lapping up the copious discharge of vaginal juice. But when I moved back to her clit she pushed me away.
“I’ve had enough of that for now, baby,” she cooed. “I need to feel you inside me.”
The throes of her violent orgasm had certainly got me aroused again, but I wasn’t at full inflation yet.
“I’ll need a little help with this,” I said, pointing to my semi-rigid cock. She laughed. God, how I was beginning to love that sound.
“Come here. Let’s get you going again.”
I stood up and she took me into her mouth. Gently, patiently, she worked her magic with her lips and tongue. Within minutes I was hard once more. Smiling, she told me precisely what she had in mind.
“I want you to fuck me from behind,” she said. “I want your cock in my pussy first to get it nice and wet and then I want you in my ass. Okay?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned on the couch, got on her hands and knees and raised that big rear-end towards me. I moved into her, found the opening to her pussy and drove my cock in. The feeling was almost indescribable. She was . . . hot . . . incredibly wet . . . and loose. I started to fuck her, slowly at first, my hands on her shoulders. I pushed as deeply as I could but it felt a long way from bottom. Still, she moaned her encouragement.
“Yes, baby, that’s it . . . right there . . . give it to me.”
I could feel her pulsing the muscles of her vagina around my shaft and, in truth, hers was a very fine vagina to be inside. But I wasn’t going to get off here, I didn’t think. She had other ideas anyway.
After a few minutes she looked over her shoulder..
“Now I want you fuck my ass, baby,” she said. She reached back to pull her voluminous ass cheeks apart.
We had no lubricant handy, although my cock was drenched with her juice. She didn’t seem to care. I carefully positioned the head of my cock at the little rose bud of her anal opening and pushed, tentatively, forward.
“That’s it,” she directed. “Push it in, push it in. Slowly now, come on, push it in.”
I pushed. All six-and-a-half inches disappeared inside her. Her anus was as tight as her pussy was loose. I paused. She groaned.
“Ahhhh yes, baby. Wait now . . . wait . . . okay now, ready . . . fuck me, fuck my ass, baby, fuck my ass, fuck my ass, fuck my ass.”
She was almost chanting. What could I do. I fucked the big lady’s big ass. I fucked her with long, deep strokes. All the way in, all the way out. First slowly and then, as I got into it and as I felt my own arousal begin, with increasing speed.
“Fuck me ass, fuck my ass, fuck my ass,” she kept repeating, over and over, mantra-like. I hate to get off by myself so I reached a hand around to stroke her clit. Hers was already there. She brushed mine away. I went back to concentrating on what I was doing.
And that was getting ready to cum in her big, beautiful bum. My orgasm was suddenly there. My balls tingled. My cock swelled.
“Fuck,” I exclaimed. “I gonna cum, baby.”
“With you,” she shot back. “I’m there. Fuckmyass, fuckmyass, fuckmyass, fuckmyass . . . oh yeah . . . oh yeah . . . ohhhhhhhh fuuuucking YESSSSSSSSS . . . YESSSSSSSSS . . . YESSSSSSSSS . . .”
Actually, I’m not sure who said all that. I spewed my cum into her ass and she shuddered through another intense orgasm and we both came in a wonderful, noisy, messy, totally draining explosion. I collapsed on top of her as she collapsed onto the couch. And neither of us said anything for several minutes. The only sound was our panting as we struggled to catch out breath.
And then she laughed. She turned over and I slid down beside her.
“That’s the way I like it,” she said, grinning. We kissed and fondled and stroked and ever so slowly relaxed. She threw her head back. “Ohhhh . . . my . . . gawd . . . that’s . .. the . . . way . . . I . . . like . . . it.”
We had some more wine after that and talked a bit and played around. I licked her pussy again and she sucked my cock for awhile but neither of us were really in the need of another go around. Eventually we got dressed – she put her bra and panties in her purse – and went out for dinner, over which we talked about everything but what had just happened back there in my office.
But during a shared extravagant chocolate dessert, I did actually say this:
“You know, Marilyn, I know you’re sitting there without a stitch on underneath your sweater and skirt and I’m sitting here slowly starting to get horny as I think about that. What say we go to my place for a nightcap and another round.”
She laughed – oh, there it was again – and patted my hand.
“Sweetie,” she said. “Big girls like me eat up little guys like you for lunch. I’d hate to ruin our friendship so soon. It’s been fabulous but let’s call it a night, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, with obvious disappointment. In the parking lot her goodnight kiss was warm and willing, full of much promise. I cupped my hands around that woman’s big beautiful ass and drew her against my groin. She could, I’m sure, feel another erection. She laughed and twisted away and got into her car. As she drove away, she squealed her tires and tooted her horn.
She didn’t show up for work the next day. I never saw her again. I didn’t go looking for her, either.