She was adorable, but she was alone. Sitting in a booth all on her own, lips curled into a frown, empty glass on the edge of her table, stained with the pink of her lips... Anyone could've told what had happened: the poor girl had been dumped. Either she hadn't seen it coming or she hadn't wanted to. I'd been there before. It was always sad to see someone who'd been stood up, but it was even sadder with this woman, seeing how pretty she was; her short, brown hair was done up nicely, her makeup was so carefully applied—it was a shame. I left my seat at the counter and made my way over to her booth. I asked if I could join her.
"Is this seat taken?"
"I guess not," she sighed.
"John," I said, introducing myself.
"May," she replied.
"Boy troubles?" I inquired. She responded with a nod and an f-bomb.
"Fucker stood me up." Having cussed, she paused and scanned my face to make sure I wasn't offended. I hadn't flinched, but she apologized regardless. She didn't look like the type who usually swore in front of strangers. "Sorry," she muttered, "pardon my language. I'm just pretty upset."
"No, it's okay," I assured her. "Get it all out. There's no use bottling things up."
"Nah, it's fine," she said, rather unconvincingly, "I'm fine." (She wasn't.) "I don't wanna talk about it." (But she did wanna talk about it, and it was obvious.) "What brings you here?" She gestured at me.
"Just came in for a drink," I said. "Nothing really special. I don't like drinking alone."
"Yeah. Yeah, neither do I, I suppose." She swished the ice around in her glass. Judging by the clutter on her end of the table, she'd been doing more eating than drinking to quench her frustrations. There were three little plastic food baskets on the table. One was caked in orange residue and filled with perfectly picked-clean bones. There were twelve bones in it, and another basket was tucked underneath that one, which meant she'd downed two whole orders of buffalo wings. Next to that was another tray along with a little cup that'd once been home to some marinara sauce. She'd also ordered mozzarella sticks. She blushed when she noticed me studying her trash. "Sorry, I probably look like a pig," she muttered. "I just—"
"No, no!" I offered, "you look great, and you shouldn't be ashamed of... I mean, I wasn't even... I'm sorry, that's not what I was, uh."
Wait. You're babbling, Johnny. Recalibrate. Try again.
"Look, don't be embarrassed for eating, you're only human. Besides, it's really not that much. Just because you're a pretty girl doesn't mean you can't treat yourself." I put forward my nicest smile, expecting the same from her in return, and received a scowl. "What?" I was confused. Sure, this wasn't an easy hole to smooth talk my way out of, but I thought I'd handled it pretty well. Had I said something wrong?
"Are you making fun of me?" May demanded.
"What? No, of course not. Why would you think I was making fun of you?" Her glare intensified.
"I don't need shit from guys like you," she hissed. She'd already been at the tipping point and it now appeared that my accidental insult had pushed her over the edge. "Every day I get that, and I'm sick of it, but today I just can not put up with it. Don't you think I've had to deal with enough today without some dude making fun of my weight?"
"Whoa, whoa! Who said anything about your weight?" She was a little thick, sure, big busted and not exactly skinny, but she was far from fat. Hell, I wouldn't even call her chubby. If the word "curvy" was applicable to anyone, it was this woman. The view I had of her from across the table in our little booth wasn't very much, but it was more than enough for me to diagnose the fact that she was a very, very attractive woman. And yet, she was glaring at me through those pretty glasses for a perceived jab at her weight.
"The guy I was supposed to see today; I thought he was different. I thought he'd really give me a shot. He said he'd meet me here." She picked up her phone and showed me the time on the lock screen. "It's nine-thirty right now. Nine-thirty! And he told me he'd meet me here at fucking seven. I wanted that to be true. I waited two and a half hours because I wanted that to be true. But he didn't come. And you know what? I don't think he ever meant to come. There's no way this happens to other girls as much as it happens to me. I know it's because I'm so fucking fat." She pinched her side, showing me that she was a little soft, but I failed to see anything unusual. It looked like hardly anything more than the bare minimum of body fat in order for a person to be healthy. "If you're here because you think you can make a joke out of me, please spare me the humiliation just this once. Okay?"
"Whoa," I croaked. "Oh my god. That's not how it is at all, I swear. First of all, you are absolutely not fat." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not kidding! I mean that, I can't believe you even think you're fat. Look, I'll be honest with you, I came over here because I thought you were really pretty and you looked upset. That's all. I have zero intention to make fun of you. May, if I said something that wasn't nice, it was probably the liquor talking. I'm a little buzzed already. But I promise, it wasn't anything Freudian. I do not think you're fat."
"You're serious about that?"
"Yes, of course I am," I assured her.
"Well thank you, that's sweet," May said. She sighed, then apologized. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have blown up on you. I've just been through a lot lately."
"Are you sure these guys are making fun of your weight?" I asked.
"I mean, what else would it be?" May played with the ice in her empty glass again. "I've never been this big before. I feel disgusting."
"Are you kidding me? This is big for you?" She glared at me again. "I'm dead serious! I don't see it!"
"Ugh," she said, "I'm doing it again. I'm sorry. Look, you seem sweet, and I want to believe that you're being sincere, but... I don't know. If you're seeing what you say you're seeing, one of us is crazy." May glanced down at herself. "I mean, I'm wearing black tonight too. You probably wouldn't say the same if you could see me better."
"Black is slimming, but it's not that slimming," I told her. "I'm not blind. I can see you. You're not fat, I know for sure. I think you're very cute, and I think you shouldn't be so ashamed of yourself."
May smiled. "Well thank you, that's really sweet." The waiter came by, retrieving her dirty dishes and replacing them with another tray of mozzarella sticks and a new glass of cola. She flushed beet red. She must've ordered more right before I came. While the server was around, I requested another drink. May ordered one too, and the waiter headed off.
Once the server was gone, May started laughing. I snickered too, mostly because she was so giggly. "Oh my God," she said, "oh my God, that's so embarrassing. I didn't know a guy would be here by the time those got to the table." She was still laughing. "Have I convinced you that I'm a pig yet?"
"No! Stop beating up on yourself! I mean it. Eat your damn food and stop acting like you can afford to lose a pound."
"Whatever, weirdo," she giggled, biting into one of the fried cheese sticks. "Want one?" I declined. "Well thanks for not judging me for pigging out," she continued. "Or, if you are, at least being a good enough liar to fool me about it."
"Don't thank me, there's nothing to judge. You're lovely."
"I have never been told I was lovely while eating a tray of mozzarella sticks by myself."
"I've never spoken to a girl whom I thought looked lovely while she was eating a tray of mozzarella sticks."
May was grinning now. "You know, I thought you were cute too before you came over here, but I had no idea you'd be interested in me too. I usually don't get any kind of attention like that. I still think you're crazy. But if you are, I kind of like it. And if you're bullshitting me, you're doing a good enough job to make me feel a little bit less down tonight. Either way, I think I owe you thanks for cheering me up, even just a little."
"I told you, don't thank me." I touched her hand. "I'm just glad to see you smile."
The night went on and on. May and I fired conversation back and forth for hours, and it got easier and easier to talk as the night went on. She was a really intelligent girl, and I was loving the things she had to say. She seemed very interested in me too, that was a really nice feeling.
I downed a drink, and then another. The evening became foggier as the liquor flowed, but I was still having a wonderful time. My impromptu date was drinking too, but since I'd had such a head start (she'd only had a single light drink before I'd walked over), I was getting a lot more drunk than she was. As the night went on, the laughs got louder, the memories got fuzzier, and we hit it off more and more. Eventually we got into a cab together with our last couple of drinks, and that was the very last thing I would remember in the morning.
When I woke up, I was still slightly buzzed, and definitely very hungover. Upon opening my eyes, I was quick to realize that I was not in my own bedroom.
Even though I wasn't facing her, May noticed that I was awake and got up close to me. She put her hand on my waist. Feeling this, I closed my eyes again and smiled. We'd spent the night together."
"Baby," May said, "it's just past noon. We were out real late but we can't sleep in all day."
"But your bed is so comfy," I groaned. She ran her fingers over my body playfully.
"I know it is, cutie, I sleep in it every night." She kissed my shoulder. Boy, was this girl hands-on. To me, that was definitely sexy. I rolled over and looked at her, close up and personal. Her makeup was faded and her hair was messy, but she was still beautiful. Without glasses, she wasn't necessarily cuter than she was with them—just a different (equally pleasant) kind of cute. She kissed me on the lips, even though I was sure I had killer morning breath.
"Remember much from last night?" She asked.
"I wish I remembered more, honestly," I said, "but I have a feeling it was really great." My pelvis was slightly sore, and if that wasn't a sign that I'd had a good night, I don't know what was.
"You fuck like an animal, Johnny," she said. Her voice was weak from a full night's sleep, but she still knew how to use it seductively. "I'd love to see if you can keep that up when you're sober."
I grinned. "Perhaps we'll find that out." I ran my hand through her hair. She went in for a kiss, but she turned away before making contact.
"Wait. I shouldn't. I've been asleep for at least like six or seven hours. I gotta brush my teeth first."
I stroked her cheek and shut my eyes again. "I should do that too," I said, "but I can't get up yet. Too sleepy." She giggled and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"Well you'll have to get up sometime, hon." I could feel the bed shift and creak as she rolled over. She groaned as she stood. I figured she'd earned herself a good stretch after I'd apparently been so good to her the night before.
This felt really special. Sure, I didn't remember much, but I'd successfully started something with this girl and that was a wonderful feeling. Even if the first time was lost to the drink, there would be plenty more good times to come, I was sure.
I waited for her a while before I decided I'd try to do something a little cuter than just lying in her bed lazily all morning. Carefully, I pried myself up from her bed and headed down the hallway so I could sneak up from behind and hug her while she was brushing her teeth. That'd earn me a few brownie points, I figured.
I could see the bathroom. The door was open, and the mirror was visible from outside. I continued walking until I was a few feet back from the door, and that's when reality hit me like a truck.
When May had complained about her weight before, I'd figured the problem was just that she was completely exaggerating a few little love handles or jiggly parts in her own mind, seeing herself differently than she actually appeared. Little had I known that the extra weight was real. It had just been below the table the whole time.
As May worked on her oral hygiene, an impossibly, massively, grotesquely obese lower half was sloshing around behind her, waving and quaking with every movement involved in the tooth-brushing process. Her butt was huge. Shockingly, unbelievably huge. I hadn't previously been aware that it was even possible for the familiar, dimpled texture of cellulite to be as harsh and exaggerated as it was on this woman's enormous ass, as well as all the way down the backs of her equally monstrous legs. I'd known girls could be pear shaped—hell, I could get into that sometimes—but no, this was far beyond peardom. I didn't even know if it was in the same ballpark. I'd never seen an actual fruit, pear or otherwise that could be considered anywhere near as bottom-heavy as the woman I'd slept with the previous night. And yet, somehow, her top half was hardly even pudgy. How was that possible? And furthermore, how could I have possibly missed it? Had I been so drunk that I'd managed not to notice that each of the thighs wrapped around me weighed more than I did? Had I just not cared? What the fuck had happened?
May didn't notice as I gawked at her from the hallway in my birthday suit. Before the ill-proportioned princess finished brushing her teeth, I snuck back to the bedroom to recover. I was in the shock of my life. The most upsetting thing about the whole ordeal was the harrowing realization that I had been able not to notice something so blatantly unavoidable, even as I had my penis inside of it. How had I met this girl, talked to her for hours, hit it off with her, went home with her and had sex with her, all without noticing that she was severely, clinically obese? I looked at the floor where we'd tossed out clothes the previous night. I could see now that she'd been wearing jet-black leggings (I almost mistook them for some kind of piled-up, black bed sheet at first on the ground), which must've been the reason I didn't notice her enormous hips when I first sat down. That made me feel slightly less insane. As for the rest, I must've simply been wasted. Suddenly, I could hear her heavy footsteps as she plodded down the hallway. She was coming back to the bedroom. I had to hide my shock and disgust as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it would be impossible for me to restore my erection.
"I'm back, hottie," she said as she waddled sideways through the door. The movements of her gelatinous extremities were making me sick already.
"Minty fresh?" I said. I was trying desperately to act unsurprised.
"You know it," she half-grunted, still squeezing rather slowly through the portal. This was insane, I thought to myself. Her skinny upper half made zero contact with the doorframe, but her thighs and ass could hardly squeeze through. Despite the fact that she was coming through sideways, she still seemed to be having trouble. Even at the thinnest angle from which May could present her form, her lower body matched the door in width and touched the frame the whole way through. I couldn't believe my eyes as she wriggled through, each of her shelf-like hips wobbling according to its own flabby agenda. She looked absolutely ridiculous, and she was breathing audibly by the time she got through the hole.
Now I had a full, perfect view of May, and I still have never felt more disbelief about something I was seeing than I did looking at her right then and there. It was unfathomable; the poor girl looked like she'd walked out of some rejected Salvador Dalí painting and was now just trying her damndest to fit in with reality. Her face was that of a cute, perfectly normal, skinny girl, and so were her neck and shoulders. Her arms were thin. Her breasts were big, but not abnormally so. Everything was perfectly normal, no surprises, all the way down until the crease of her waist, the thinnest point in the hourglass of her body. Then things got weird. Her hips must've been between three or four feet across, something like ninety inches around at the widest point, and each hip sagged slightly downwards towards its respective side. Her belly didn't seem abnormal if you only looked at the top half; however, from just below the equator of her torso, a massive flap of belly emerged and cascaded down over her thighs, resting about a third of the way to her knees. The massive, floppy paunch rippled like a flag in the wind every time she lifted one of her enormous, ungainly thighs in order to take a short step towards me, a process which was clearly difficult for her, considering how overinflated and incompatible her legs happened to be. Each thigh was so thick that it was almost eerie to see them move, somehow simply unnatural in their girth. Neither gave the other enough space to slide past itself without her having to lift each leg to the side ever so slightly in the process of each step. There was an audible swish each time the side of one of he truly thunderous thighs grazed the other. Her knees had been lost deep in the fat long ago, but I could see where they would be, thanks to the fat folds each spot sported at the joint. Her calves were fat too; hell, even her feet and toes were stubby, distorted by her halfheartedly applied obesity.
Maneuvering her ungainly body as best as she could, May waddled laboriously towards me like an exceptionally fat penguin before wrapping her thin arms around my shoulders and pressing her gross, flappy belly into my abdomen and naked groin. She gave me a long kiss, and I tried in vain to enjoy it without thinking about how enormous half of her body was. I could tell that she was trying to be cute and not breathe heavily, but it wasn't really working. Her cheeks were a red too; the poor half-hippo was exhausted.
I tried to be passionate about it. I was so confused, so conflicted. When she finally broke the kiss, I was somewhat relieved. Still trying fruitlessly to sound as though she weren't exhausted from the exertion of getting through two doorways and waddling over to me, she suggested we get back to the place her heavy body seemed to belong: the safety of her mattress. "I'm cold, babe," she said. "Let's get in bed." I nodded and kissed her on the forehead. It was still too soon for my smile not to be fake.
I had a hard time believing she was cold, considering she was starting to sweat now. I shuddered. But I didn't want to make her stand, so I nodded and climbed into her bed. Clumsily, she lifted a tree-trunk leg up onto the mattress and hoisted herself up with a stifled grunt. She plopped down onto her back before rolling onto her side so that her a comically huge mountain of body fat on her lower half stuck up what looked like two whole feet above the rest of the silhouette her body. Under the covers, there was clearly something huge, but the part that was exposed could've belonged to a supermodel.
"Cuddle with me, John," she said cutely. It was almost easy to forget she was so fat when I didn't have to look directly at the massive feat of 21st century obesity that lie below the covers. She looked so frail and unimposing on the top half.
Somewhat reluctantly, I scooted up and got into spooning position with her. She sighed in approval. I put my arms around her. Her body was lying completely straight, and yet I was still having to bend almost ninety degrees in order to spoon her comfortably over that titanic tushy. She sighed happily as I played with her hair.
What was I going to do? I'd certainly had feelings for her. Very strong feelings, in fact. I could remember a ton of our conversation last night, and it was fantastic. She was such a sweetheart. And really, if you looked at her without letting yourself see her lower body, she was a truly beautiful girl. Now, however, my feelings were largely replaced with confusion. How could a person ever look at someone else the same way after such a system shock as this? She wasn't just a little chunky. She was huge.
I was running my hand through her hair when a wave of morbid curiosity went through me. There was an elephant in the room, and every bit of my brain was now egging me on to see how it felt. After all, it was right in front of me, and I'd never made contact with something like it before (at least not whilst sober enough to remember it later). I had to try. Carefully, naturally, I slid my hand down over her waist and onto her hip.
First impression, running my palm and fingers over the bulge: not as soft as I'd expected. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was so much softer than any human body really should've been, but it wasn't like Jell-O or anything. I guess I wouldn't have expected that kind of consistency if I'd put much thought into it, but these hips certainly looked gelatinous when they were sloshing around freely as she walked. It was malleable, but it was heavy. That was what I hadn't been expecting as much. It was soft, but it was much heavier than it looked. I almost felt bad for her, having to walk around with so much of this all of the time.
"Oooh," she swooned, "I really like when you touch there." She was referring to my hand running up and down her butt, which made me feel slightly guilty about the fact that I was doing it more out of disgusted curiosity than I was sexual attraction. Still, I supposed there was nothing wrong with pleasing her, even if it wasn't exactly so pleasurable for me.
Usually, when spooning with a girl, I think it's safe to say a guy's member lines up pretty well with the crack of the girl's ass, and it's a really nice, sexy and comfortable little way for all the parts to fall. The human body seems to have been lovingly built, whether by a divine creator or some Darwinian process, to allow us this wonderful gift. Here, however, she was far too big for this to work. Even if I hadn't been too flaccid to enjoy the position from that angle, my groin was lined up with a wall of fat, and her crack was so high up that it was actually above my body. Hell, looking at her, I had no idea how this was a comfortable position. Even with her memory-foam mattress evening the playing field slightly, her spine must've been bent very uncomfortably in order for her to lie flat on her side. I spoke up.
"Are you comfortable like this?" I asked her.
"Comfortable? Yeah," she said, "what do you mean?"
"Lying on your side like that?"
"Oh! Yeah, of course." She was acting like I didn't know what she was talking about, but I wasn't buying it for a second. "Why would I be uncomfortable?"
"You just don't look super comfy, that's all. I mean, you know, you look like you're kind of... Bent weirdly, the way you're lying. That's all."
"Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess... I guess it could be better." I scooted over and May rolled onto her back, suddenly occupying a large portion of the queen-sized bed. She seemed really embarrassed, and I suddenly felt awful. My gut reaction was to make it up to her. I had to backtrack a little by making her feel attractive.
At this point, at the very least, this girl was my friend. If I wasn't going to date her or be able to do anything sexual with her ever again, I didn't think that was unfair. Still, there was no way I wasn't going to try to be really nice to her. The poor thing got stood up, we had a heart-to-heart conversation, she made sure I got home safe, she really liked me, and, after all, she had to live with that body. Maybe I could get past the lower half, even if just for a little. I tried my best.
I got on all fours above her. I kissed her. "Don't be embarrassed. I just want you to be comfortable, that's all."
"Okay, John," she said. I started making out with her, and all of a sudden, it was really easy again. My mind was looking for any excuse it could to forget that she had the bottom half of a manatee where her legs should've been, and that was easy to do when all I could see at the moment was her skinny, naked top half and her beautiful face. Eventually, I even got a half-chub, which she eagerly started massaging upon first noticing its presence. We kissed this way for a while. It was nice, all the way up until she tried to get a little more forward about it.
If two people are making out, it's not unnatural for them to sort of roll around gradually, each person ending up on top once in a while. It is certainly unnatural for that to happen when one of those people has an ass like a sofa. Inelegantly, May tried to roll the two of us over, but naturally, she doesn't really work well on her side, so she kind of skipped that part. May rolled me off of her and onto my back in a very forced, non-subtle way before equally inelegantly getting up onto her knees (with an unattractive grunt) and maneuvering herself on top of me.
On top of her, I was almost able to briefly forget about her more bovine half, but from the bottom, that was absolutely impossible. The worst thing was the sheer weight of her. May must've been smuggling at least two hundred pounds in those saddlebags, and I could feel every single ounce of it pressing down on me. Across my lower body spread the soft, folding, rippling hams of her thighs, hot, sweaty and heavy against my groin, hips and belly. Sweet May's skin was soft and smooth, but the fat that lie beneath it was fraught with cellulite dimples and deep, randomly-distributed creases, to the point where her legs no longer felt like legs at all. Each mass spread out against my skin like a pancake, weighty and unpleasant. The amount of space that her leg fat occupied on my body was already staggering, but her big flap of belly took up even more surface area. The big sheet of fat was lying what felt like a whole foot out across my torso like a warm, heavy, living blanket, carefully knitted through the ingestion of various junk foods. Her lower body was an ocean. I had been at half-mast before, but my sails had lowered right away, now that I was below sea-level.
She kept snogging me, but I couldn't even force myself to seem passionate at this point. The warm, fuzzy feelings I'd had for her were absent. It didn't feel like the thing on top of me was human at this point. I broke the kiss. She knew something was wrong.
"Hey, uh..." I didn't know what to say. I quickly searched my thoughts. What did I want?
Right away I knew I wanted to leave.
"May, what time is it?"
She looked at her alarm clock. "It's almost 1:00," she reported. "How come?"
I tried to slip out from under her as she spoke, but I was veritably pinned to her bed. There was no way I was escaping without an excuse. "Oh, shit, really? I'm supposed to come in to work at 1:30. I think I have to go now, babe."
She immediately looked sad, but I could tell she was trying to hide it. She mustered up a smile. "Oh. Okay, John." I tried to move, but I don't think it occurred to May exactly how heavy she was. Come to think of it, she'd been doing things all night which made it seem as though she wasn't fully aware of her size. She was very self conscious, sure, but she also seemed as though she forgot about it a lot. It made me wonder how long she'd been so fat. I figured it must've taken a while; this kind of thing didn't just happen, I was certain. "Well maybe we can do something later tonight," she said. "Or tomorrow, if you're busy. Right?" She smiled nervously.
"Yeah," I said, rather unconfidently. "Yeah, sounds good." Still couldn't budge. "Hey, uh, do you think you could, like,-"
"Oh! Oh, my gosh, yeah, I'm sorry. That's embarrassing." She flushed, beet red. "Shit," she muttered as she lifted herself off of me. The fat, hanging loosely from her frame, dragged across my body as she dismounted. I shivered in disgust as the folds grazed my skin. This whole situation was unbelievably strange.
"No," I told her, "don't be sorry." I kissed her on the cheek to make her feel better. Every touch with this girl was requiring more and more effort from me. There was zero passion left, and it was being quickly replaced with repulsion.
I got up and put my clothes on. By the time I was finished, she'd only managed to put on a shirt (having picked it up rather painstakingly) and was currently working on getting a comically oversized leg into an equally oversized pair of yoga pants. I waited for her to finish, putting my socks and shoes on as slowly as possible. Once she'd stood up, pants on (and looking ready to burst, wrapped taut around that juicy ass), I gave her the kiss goodbye.
"See you soon, John," she said.
"See you," I said back. I was out the door rather quickly.
I sat down in my car and buckled up. No way, I thought to myself. No second date.
Was that mean? Absolutely, and I felt like a horrible, horrible person for leaving that poor girl with no second date, especially after she'd just been through it so many times. She was so sweet, and I really had had strong feelings for her. I just couldn't get past her appearance. That ass was worse than obesity; it was a deformity, and I could not ignore it.
I started the engine, but I kept it in park for a little while. I had a pit in my chest that wouldn't let up. She didn't deserve to get bailed on again. In my head, I went back to the previous night. I recalled our time at the bar. It'd been so long since I'd had a conversation like the one we'd had. Not just with a girl—with anyone, really. She had been lovely. She'd made me laugh so much, and I'd done the same to her. She'd made me think too.
I cast my mind back to the space I'd been in when I'd first seen her. Bizarrely distributed morbid obesity had been the last thing on my mind at the time, as she'd seemed as normal as a person could seem, and she'd looked very pretty from what I could see. I recalled her laugh, and the first time I'd made her smile. I'd wanted her very badly.
All of a sudden, I felt it rush back. All of those feelings came flooding back, and with them came one more old friend from last night: my full erection. I turned the car off and dashed out towards her door.
I knocked. She called out. I could hear a creak and some heavy footfalls. A few moments later, she opened the door. "John? I thought you ha—mmph!" I muffled her speech with a big kiss on the mouth. It was a sexual ambush. I shut the door, spun the two of us around and pushed her up against it. The knob disappeared somewhere into her cellulite, but because there was just so much padding, it seemed not to cause her any discomfort. I kissed her aggressively, and she reacted with stifled moans into my own mouth. The butt didn't bother me at all anymore. The passion was back.
Without breaking the kiss for more than a few seconds, I managed to pull off her shirt. She did the same to me. Soon, she broke it again to speak. "I thought you had to work," she panted. Her face was pretty, but it was pink from exertion. "Didn't you?"
"I called out," I told her as I unhooked her bra and slid it off of her. "I decided this was too good to miss." She giggled and resumed kissing me. I was still hard as a rock. For some reason, her size didn't phase me whatsoever anymore. Don't get me wrong: I still felt absolutely no attraction to that half of her body at all. However, May's corpulent curves no longer distracted me from the things I did find attractive about her, even at point blank. We continued making out. I played with her boobs as we did. May's nimble, skinny fingers traced the musculature of my body (I didn't have much muscle on my frame, but whatever there was, she was quick to discover) passionately, sending sharp chills up my spine with each delicate touch. My hands explored her torso as well, caressing her waist, breasts and back, each of which clearly built for a girl a few hundred pounds lighter than herself. The bottom-heavy belle began unbuttoning and removing my pants, and once she had them nice and loose, I finished the job so that she wouldn't have to break the kiss. I started taking off hers the same way. May tried to take over for me the way I had, but after a few seconds of struggling, was unable to get them down any further.
"Want me to help?" I asked. She nodded bashfully. I kissed her, then kneeled down and began trying to wrangle the pair down her enormous hips. I wasn't having much luck either.
"You, uh... you might wanna start from the back, that way you can, uh..." May was mumbling shyly, embarrassed now that her titanic tuchas was causing trouble once again. "So that you can get it down my butt first." The upside-down Popsicle of a girl was getting redder by the second.
"Okay, baby," I said. I stood up and walked as she stepped forward from the wall so that I could get ahold of her trembling tush. I walked over, got on my knees and began prying the material down and off of her ass, one cheek at a time. The right side emerged first, more wobbly and irregular now that it was out in the open. Once free from the fabric floodgate of her clothing, each patch of fat became less shapely and more unpleasant. And yet, to my delight, I found my desire unchecked. The other cheek followed suit. Then, I shuffled over to the other side of her body and began peeling the material off of her big belly and down the fronts of her thighs. Upon release, her doughy belly flap expanded into the space around it. Similarly, two massive, quivering hams became visible and expanded slightly as I peeled the clothing off of her distorted limbs like a candy wrapper off of melted chocolate. Pressurized by the taut garment, her ghastly marshmallow thighs had been compressed and smoothed out beneath the material. Each time I set one of them free, I watched as it swelled and bunched up onto itself like whipped cream out of a can, creating a complex system of hills and valleys on each leg. The cellulite was sweaty and warm, having responding both to her exertion and her arousal. Getting them over her cankled calfs was the easiest part of the job. Finally, she placed her hand on my back for support and grunted as she lifted each tree-trunk leg, one at a time, so that I could get the pants out from under her feet.
"Thanks, baby" she said as I stood up, "I'm sorry about that." Her pants were now on the floor. "I just have trouble sometimes with—"
I stopped her in her tracks with a forceful kiss. She squeaked in surprise before stifling a pleased groan as our tongues danced gently and skillfully together. I did this a few seconds more before stopping to speak again. "I'm gonna take your underwear off too, okay?"
She was smiling, but her expression was mixed. She looked as though she were somewhere between embarrassment and flattery as she quietly said "okay." This time, she turned around and placed her hands on the wall so I didn't have to walk around her. I crouched and faced the fat once more.
My head was now inches away from a butt built for a colossus. Directly in front of my face was the biggest wall of human flesh I'd ever seen, wrapped loosely in an enormous, pink pair of undies. The garment May had stuffed her massive ass into was huge, and the majority of each cheek was hanging heavily out of its respective side. I could see the indent where the two colossal orbs smashed together; my face was lined up with it directly. May's panties were draped lopsidedly across the boulder of flesh, one cheek covered much more extensively than the other. With my face so close, I couldn't help but notice that the panties smelled absolutely lovely. I almost wanted to ask what fabric softener she used. Even though I'd already learned that she was a sweaty girl from the waist down, they didn't look, feel or smell sweaty whatsoever. They were clean m, and somehow, they were adorable, even if I probably could've worn them as a toga. Out of curiosity, as well as a legitimate desire to please my pear-shaped princess, I ran my hands over the fabric. Soon, that became more forceful. May giggled cutely as she felt my fingers kneading her bovine butt.
"Oh!" she laughed. "Wow. Getting frisky, are we, baby?" I continued massaging her booty. The giggles stopped. In their place, she let out a groan, and then another one. "Oh! Oh, John. That... that feels really nice." Even though it was heavy and thick, the fat of her ass was incredibly soft. I was happy to notice that I was no longer turned off by it, even if it wasn't exactly turning me on. The blubber now just felt like a normal part of her body, and if it was turning her on to be touched there, I was certainly getting something out of it in a small way, just from the knowledge that she liked it. She didn't stop, continuing to release those periodic little moans. I noticed that the material of her underwear was much looser than that of her pants and incredibly soft to the touch. It was as if someone had assigned her the most delicate, luscious, comfortably fitting undergarments possible in order to guard such a unique and important derrière.
Finally, I took ahold of the waistband of her panties and slid them down over her legs. Being that they were so much looser than the yoga pants, there was little resistance. Supported by the wall, May lifted each stubby foot into the air, one at a time, in order to allow me to remove the underpants from her body. After a brief moment of admiration, I tossed the garment aside, watching it parachute gently through the air and onto the floor. The way they landed, they ended up looking more like a pink triple XL t-shirt than a pair of underpants.
I stood up and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. My groin was pressed against something flabby. "Damn, John," she said, "nobody's touched my body like that in years."
"Like this?" I said. I gave her a good spank, just hard enough to be sexy without hurting her, albeit accounting for at least two or three hundred pounds of cushion. She squeaked in delight as the kinky gesture sent a seismic wave through her whole Southern Hemisphere. Ripples of fat echoed across her whole ass and both legs. It kept moving until I grabbed on again, stabilizing at least the cheek I'd specifically taken hold of.
"Yeah," she chuckled, "pretty much like that." Upon my request, May and I, waddling and walking respectively, headed back into her bedroom to recreate the events of last night without alcohol to blur the memories later. I bent over and grabbed my jeans on the way there. I had a few Trojans in my wallet.