A BBW And A Tall Gentleman Do you know what it's like to be large? More and more of us each year, the government tells us, are too large for good health. They tell us that fruits and veggies are better for us and that tobacco is bad for us. They tell us we need exercise and fewer calories. They tell us we should eat fewer Big Mac's and fries, and that walking and jogging are good for us. What do they know? Have you ever looked at the doctor's they show preaching to us -- or the news people? They're the beautiful people. They're not like us. They have people inviting them, visiting them, asking their advice, and have other beautiful people chasing after them. We sit at home, or travel to work and the grocery store and then back home. Many of us are lonely and avoided by the beautiful people. We want to go out, to have fun, to be with people, to love and be loved. We sit at home mostly. Well, I want to stand up and be counted. I want to tell you that good things can happen and that we can be loved. If you're large I want you to feel good about yourself, and I don't mean the BBW crap -- well, maybe it isn't all crap but much of it is. I have needs and I've always had needs. I've had other women hit on me, and avoided them. I've had crushes and unrequited loves and I've had guys go out with me on a dare or to demonstrate their prowess to other male friends. I've been had and I've grown leery. Sometimes I enjoy being alone, and sometimes I've cried and enjoyed feeling sorry for myself. Today that's different. He's my age or at least in my age group (if there is such a thing). He's tall and handsome and on the large side of perfection. He has a personality and demeanor that thrills me and he lets me know that I'm his and he's proud of it. He is a man. Where did I meet him? How did I meet him? Am I sure? Is he going to be loyal and faithful? Good questions -- but I have the answers. I met him at the store buying groceries and he didn't know how to cook artichokes. I'm no chef, no home-ec major. But, I know they're boiled and I told him. He said that he'd always loved artichoke and loved them on a good restaurant's menu. He thought that boiling might be the key -- but at the current price of artichoke, he didn't want to ruin them or deny someone else the pleasure of them by buying and then ruining them. I told him that I didn't think he'd ruin them as long as he didn't let them boil dry and didn't boil them so long that they fell apart. He laughed -- and you know I was smitten. As I pushed my cart away he mentioned that it looked like I, too, was buying for one. Embarrassed, I answered him honestly. To my amazement he asked if I liked artichoke, and when I said yes -- with butter, he asked me for dinner. I tried to refuse because I didn't want his pity or charity. He followed me as I pushed the cart around the store, and he joked with me about my hurrying and about my obvious unease with him. He assured me that he would and could be a gentleman and that he really hated eating alone. He asked me if I always enjoyed being by myself -- and he had me. I told him that I'd love to have dinner, but I couldn't go to a man's place when I had never been introduced. Cleverly, he asked a clerk to introduce us. The store clerk was taken aback and said that he didn't know our names. My new acquaintance said his name was William and then they both looked at me. What could I say? I told them my name was Beth. The clerk smiled and awkwardly introduced us. Now, he asked if I would have dinner with him. I responded that with such an introduction I couldn't possibly refuse him -- but, I insisted that it be at my place and that I would cook. He handed me three artichokes and told me that they might spoil in a very few days if not cooked right away. I assured him that I wouldn't allow that and asked him to dinner for that evening. We exchanged addresses and phone numbers. When I handed him mine, and looked down at his, I was amazed that I hadn't seen him before because it was in an apartment building right behind my own. I walk by it each evening on my way home. I have a car, in fact I drove it to do my shopping today, but I take a bus to work because it's cheaper and I don't have to worry about causing an accident. Well -- you know the drill. Cleaning the place up -- it was a mess -- and putting stuff away trying to hide that I'm a slob living by myself. I marinated three steaks because it looked like he could eat more than one. I peeled potatoes and chilled tomatoes. I washed everything and set the table -- candles included cause I really am a romantic. Then I hurried on to shower and dress. I'm large, and my breasts fit my profile. My ass is large, too, but I've received a few compliments on it and my overly generous hips. I'm five foot nine and the perfect weight for a gal twice my height. I have dimples -- don't all large girls? Even my ass has dimples. I have light brown hair and generous lips. My tummy is large, but when I lay on my back it is almost flat -- I think -- not that the evening will ever come to that. I turned on the shower to let the water warm first. Then I took off my blouse and removed my bra. My breasts spilled out in front of me. I wear a slightly too small bra to try to make them appear a smaller size. My areoles are large, but not excessive, and they're a blush pink. My nipples are more than generous and right now they're sticking out straight in front of me. Although I'm large and although I'm in my late thirties, my breasts don't sag a lot -- my Mom has great breasts, too, and they don't sag and she is large and sixty years old. Next, I lowered my too large sized jeans and stepped out of them. I hadn't worn any panties because I knew the outline would be seen through the jeans, and I hate queen-sized panty hose. I examined myself in the mirror and frowned because for a moment I wanted to look like Daisy Fuentes on TV -- right, and Louie Anderson really looks like Mel Gibson! I comforted myself by thinking that I was ten pounds lighter than I was last month. I could see my pubes in the mirror. I've never shaved and it looks it. I rubbed under my breasts where the wire had been rubbing all day, and the circulation was just now beginning again -- it itched. I went to my dresser and sat down. I rummaged through my drawer and found a new black, lacy bra that I'd bought months before but had never worn -- waiting for my dream lover you know. I quickly tried it on -- it fit well and it was low cut with the straps spaced wide on my shoulders -- me wear a strapless? Ha! The bra made my breast spill slightly over the top and I think made me more alluring -- if only he liked large breasts. I got up and went in to the shower. I grabbed some body lotion, some shampoo, and my razor. When I was thoroughly wet, I began shaving my legs. When I got high on my thighs, there wasn't much hair but I saw the patch at my crotch. What the H _ _ _! I shaved myself smooth -- and all the time I worried that I might cut myself. Then I shampooed my hair and brushed my teeth in the shower. Finally I soaped and scrubbed, rinsed and applied body lotion. I dried myself on an oversized bath towel and examined my appearance in the mirror. I was as good as I was going to get. I used a little feminine deodorant and spray and dried my hair. I used a little gel in my hair and brushed it. My hair is long because I've heard that men like long hair -- shorter is easier, but I don't want to miss a chance. Do I sound desperate? Maybe I am. I want him to like me, even if it's only as a friend. Next, I sat in front of the mirror, added lipstick, gloss, blush and a tiny speck of powder. Before the shower, I'd laid out a sleeveless, floral, knee length, buttoned front dress that I've only worn once before to a friends wedding. Now, I rummaged through my drawer again looking for my panty-hose. When I pulled them out and started to slide them on, my toenail snagged them -- darn!!. Well, I didn't like any of my panties, so I'd just do what I did to the store this morning. It would be drafty, but I was going bare. I dusted myself with Chantilly Lace -- again, I've heard every man adores its scent. I grabbed my melon holder and with the back in front of me, I fastened it. Then I rotated it and finally when they were in front, I pulled the cups up over my breasts and ran my arms through the straps. I put my hands under my breasts, cupped and raised them and allowed them to seat comfortably. Then with one last primp of my hair, I stepped into the dress. I re-examined myself and liked the way my bra offered them up for approval and invitation. If he stood close, he'd get an eyeful. I put on the belt and then stepped into a pair of two inch heels. I was nearly ready. I sat again on the bed facing the mirror and reexamined my upper torso, face and hair. Yep -- not like Daisy, but it was as close as I'd get. I went out to the kitchen, checked the clock and started preparing dinner. Fifteen minutes later, exactly on time, my doorbell rang. I hurried to the door and opened it -- it was him! I was breathless. He was wearing brown pants, loafers, a light blue dress shirt with a red tie, and he sported a tan blazer. I invited him in and helped him off with his coat. He was yummy! He said I looked great and I thanked him and responded with a compliment of my own on his appearance. I told him to make himself comfortable while I finished preparing dinner. I walked back to the kitchen humming softly, and when I turned, he'd followed me. He said that he wanted to watch me work and might be able to help. I didn't mind. The water was boiling and I'd prewashed the artichokes. Now I picked them up and put them into the water. He came up behind me and looked over my shoulder. I was embarrassed and knew that he could see down my dress. As I tried to squeeze out to the side, I bumped him and my thigh felt something in his pants. As I moved away, I turned and the first thing I noticed was the front of his pants -- he did have a hard-on and it was more than apparent. He noticed where I was looking, glanced down himself and blushed. He turned around and tried to push it down. I giggled and he looked back at me. He asked if I thought it was funny and I said yes. I asked him if he gave all the girls this treat, and he blushed deeper. Then he said that he couldn't help himself -- that he was hungry for dinner and for me. Now it was my turn to blush. I opened the refrigerator and asked him if he thought I was going to be easy, and then asked why he was here tonight instead of with some ravishing young thing. He told me that I was his ravishing young thing -- and I believed him. He turned off the burner under the artichoke and stepped over and moved the door away from me. He stared approvingly and asked if he could kiss me. But before I could answer, he bent forward and pressed his moist warm lips against mine. I couldn't help it; I kissed him back, put my arms around him and pulled myself into him. I could feel his cock alive against me and I moved to enjoy the feeling. His tongue parted my lips and it was warm, sweet and reaching. I moved my tongue against his and he drew me slowly into his mouth and our tongues mingled. His arms encircled me and I pressed my breasts more fully into him. It had been a long time since I'd felt this alive, this desirable, and this wanton. One arm released and he brought his hand forward to hold one of my breasts. My tits ached for his naked touch, and it was only a moment in arriving. Somehow he'd dropped the straps from my shoulder and loosened three buttons. Gently he pushed one cup down and his fingers found my nipple. My breasts are so sensitive that his touch caused me to reach a mild climax. I was breathing hard and wanting him to continue. My kiss became more intense and my tongue came alive and fully explored his mouth. He must have sensed my arousal and he increased his manipulation of the breast. My skin was on fire and his touch electricity to my nerves. He bent me backwards slightly and pressed his knee between my thighs. I felt my body take over and begin to ride his knee -- he felt so good. As I rode him, the hem of my dress rose and rode on top of his knee. His hand left my bare breast and moved to my stomach, and then suddenly he'd found my naked, warm and now moist pussy. He stroked me lightly, and then more intensely. He pulled his mouth away and asked if it was alright. I moved one arm up, grabbed his neck and pulled him back down to an even more abandoned kiss. I felt his fingers separate and one of them parted my eager lips and began to stroke me. His slightly callused hands made his touch even more erotic. As he came forward, his finger slipped under the hood and found my clit. I tensed and drove my pussy against that finger, then I began a rhythmic circular movement of my hips and I felt an intense feeling begin in my tummy and travel down and into my clit. I spurted juices onto his hand and he continued to rub. I hung from his neck with one hand and reached for the front of his pants. I could feel the energy and desire in him through the pants, and began the struggle to open them. It was hard to concentrate with what he was doing for me, but finally I managed it. When I reached in, I had to find the top of his briefs and pull them down before I finally found exactly what I was looking for. My hand wasn't large enough to go around him -- I'm not into large, but I can make exceptions. Anyway, as I closed on it and began to stroke, he too began to change his rhythm and position. Again, I felt a wave of gratification, and his hand was wetter still. I grabbed his hand and pulled it away, because I really needed some recovery time. I lost his kiss because I was breathing so hard. Then without ceremony, my legs gave way and I settled rapidly on the floor. He grinned, picked me up and carried me into the living sofa and then sat beside me. I tried to talk to him and to thank him, but his opened pants and his protruding manhood drew the focus of my attention. I reached again and closed my hand around it. He smiled slightly, and so I asked him what he was smiling about. His answer was that he was glad I'd enjoyed everything else and that he was beginning to enjoy my interest in his cock. I smiled right back and told him unabashedly that I was more than just interested. I leaned over and kissed him and then leaned further and kissed him there, too. It had been hard - but now it was rigid. I continued to kiss it, and then used my tongue to taste him. I could detect the faint scent of bath soap, but it tasted clean and fresh. Hesitantly, I opened my mouth and moved down over him. I would never get him all in my mouth, but I was going to try. Now I'd only ever had oral once, and it was terrible. And, I only gave it once, and the guy enjoyed it. I certainly wasn't an expert, but my girlfriends had told me all about how it was done. Now, I was going to take the test of that knowledge and see how well I'd learned my lessons. I used both my hands to get around him and began stroking him, and I used my tongue and got a low moan of pleasure in response. I used my hands and mouth alternately -- as my hands went down, my head came back. When my hands came up, my head went down. I tasted a little of him, and wondered if that was what I'd remembered about the taste of cum. It was rich and salty, but warm and good. As I continued, I rocked my head a little to see his face. His eyes were closed and he was smiling. I decided that I was pleasing him, I gained confidence in what I was doing, and as my reward I doubled my effort on hum. This was stimulating me again, too. Almost before I knew it, he placed both hands on the side of my face and caused me to move faster and more urgently. Soon, I was being raised and then slammed down on his cock. I could feel the blood in it circulating. It felt good, except when I'd taken it all in on the down stroke and could take no more -- was he trying to gag me? Before I knew it, I felt him tense and release my head. I knew what was coming next and wasn't really prepared for it. He erupted at the back of my mouth and I had to swallow. As he released me, my head naturally started to withdraw, but this only made more room for his discharge and he kept stroking into my mouth and cumming. I thought I wouldn't make it because I was doing everything I could not to spill any. My friends had told me that a man really got turned on by swallowing. I was intent on keeping him turned on. When finally he'd finished, I pulled my head away and took a deep breath of air. Had I been holding my breath through t all? I didn't know the answer, and right then decided that I didn't care -- and I decided that I liked satisfying a man. I especially liked satisfying this man. After my gulp of air, I returned and cleaned him with my tongue and lips. He lay back on the sofa and I noticed that he too was breathing hard. He had a warm, satisfied smile on his face and I adored his face. It was only a moment and he reached out and pulled me down beside him. He then proceeded to completely undress me. I was a little more than modest about my large proportions, but he wouldn't let me deter him. When finally he had my dress down around my feet, with a little help from me, he pulled it over my feet and removed my shoes. I was starkers, and yet I was warmed by his attention and his inspection of my body. He didn't miss a single detail. His mouth and hands, followed by his lips and tongue, proceeded to explore everything before him, and I began to see myself through his eyes. He turned my head and kissed my neck and then he ran his tongue into my ear softly while I could feel his warm breath and I shivered deliciously. His hands began manipulating my breasts and his mouth and tongue seemed insatiable. I shivered again and one more time I felt myself falling into the abyss of passion. Slowly he reclined until his face was opposite the opening between my thighs. This position left this cock sticking purposely in my direction. This time I pulled it toward me and began my own intimate inspection. It was amazing to me. It looked exactly as I'd imagined it except for its size. He was circumcised and I could see the veins full of blood that powered it. His balls were huge, too, and they hung loosely to the side, apparently drained of their contents. I'd intended to take them into my mouth, one at a time after I had kissed them and tasted them with my tongue. My plan was foiled abruptly when his hands spread my thighs and I felt his head enter and begin to kiss every part of that private space. He was slow and gentle. He was a determined, thorough and compassionate lover. He did not take the duty of satisfying his partner lightly. In an overused word, he was precious to me. Now he began ministering to me with his soft, wet tongue. It too, was large and seemed to cover every part of me at the same time. It was raspy enough to provide that perfect excitation. He stroked my lips continually before, finally, using it to spread them and enter. His hands moved in to hold my lips apart while his lips descended to follow his tongue. His head moved back and forth, first reaching in and then pulling back. Finally, he used his tongue to raise and enter the area where my clit rested. At the moment however, my clit was far from resting as he took its firmness between his lips and began to suck and stroke it with his mouth and tongue. He released one hand and I felt it momentarily as it rested at the back of my pussy. Next I felt his fingers spread and enter me, slowly but deep. His soft, tender fingers seemed to have eyes of their own as they proceeded to massage, manipulate, and further explore and caress me from the inside. He was obviously a man well versed in making love to a woman, and I was concerned over my lack of similar ability. Suddenly, he must have done something differently, because where I'd been certain that I had minutes before I would climax. Now, I jumped to the edge of the cliff and dived over. I was falling and feeling sheer ecstasy. A woman can enjoy a climax from stimulation of her clit, but she can also climax from vaginal stimulation. The two are quite different. I've responded to clit stimulation many times, but never vaginal. Now, I was in free-fall from the stimulation of both simultaneously. Ladies, I can testify that this is truly the greatest feeling a woman can experience. It is nearly enough, literally, to create mental imbalance for hours afterward. When a woman experiences this rare phenomenon induced by a skilled lover, it exceeds the most powerful curative known to our species. I wanted more and more of this and him, and I wanted to satisfy my man (I'd wanted to call him this since he arrived this evening). Now we both laid back and try to return our breathing to normal. He is physically in much better shape than I am, but tonight I recovered first. I stood, turned and removed his shoes. Then I grabbed the cuffs and pulled off his pants. Finally, I slowly and carefully removed his underwear. He too was now a naked specimen of a beautiful man. I stared, and made him uncomfortable. He asked what was wrong, but I only drooled and stared. He tried to cover his body and placed his hands over his privates. I sat back down on the sofa and gently slapped his hands away. Even huge, it was a work of art. Women don't usually think a lot about the size of a man's penis, but this was exceptional. It was perfectly proportioned and I took it in my hands once more, and bent over close to it and tickled it again with my tongue. This man was amazing and it sprang right back up in my face. Again, I raised my head and looked him in the face. I asked if he was ready for dinner now. Still panting he said yes. I finished the preparation of dinner, and contrary to my concern, the artichokes were perfect. He did eat two steaks. When dinner was complete, I served warm apple pie lavished with French vanilla ice cream -- he ate half the pie. Now he got up from the table and commented that he'd always dreamed of being served dinner by a naked waitress. I returned the compliment by telling him that I'd always dreamed of serving a naked man while being naked. Aren't we a treasure? Again he took me in his arms and kissed me. He bent sideways and ran his palms over my ass. Just as quickly, he used his forearm to press behind my knees causing me to sit on his other arm. He lifted me, my huge self, again and asked where the bedroom was located. I pointed, giggled again, and wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face between my breasts. He hollered that this was fun, but he couldn't see where to go. I told him not to worry and I guided him all the way. My breasts still tingle, my mind still can't fully grasp, and my loins and pussy quiver when I remember that night. He fucked me, I fucked him, and we fucked each other. We did missionary and sixty-nine. He ate me and I devoured him. We didn't sleep. It was like a honeymoon almost. But our actual honeymoon was three years ago tonight. We are still the best of lovers. We are loyal and dedicated to each other. Why did he pick me, a large woman? I don't know. Why does he love me? Who cares? Why do I love him? Isn't it obvious? By the way, large ladies can be pregnant too, and we only have a few weeks left. The sex is gentler and slightly different, but just as erotic. He adores fondling my now gigantic body and talking to the baby. I still enjoy him exactly as I did from the start. Never give up hope ladies -- there is a lover out there for each of us.

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