Find A Fold And Fuck It

The pink floral print lifted up over her head...and Sam paused in the doorway as more and more of Bea came into view.

Her calves were nearly as thick as Sam's thighs. There was a light tan he didn't expect as the thighs, dimpled with cellulite, came into view...and that ass, like two slabs of suet crushed together so that her crack was almost a vertical line cleft between the cheeks. The dress continued to rise, and Sam saw the pale curve of her spine, the back-folds of fat that pulled at the skin radiating out of it. As the dressed pulled over her head, he quickly shucked his own robe and grabbed his dick. Not sure what his line of attack would be.

Bea pulled the pink dress over her head and tossed it aside; any good boyscout could have made a tent out of it and slept easily in the darkest woods. She shook her hair free of the bun...and turned around.

"So," she said, pudgy cheeks lifting to reveal dimples, second chin wobbling. "This is me."

Sam smiled as politely as he could. Her breasts were so large as to be almost shapeless, the areola pale shadows the size of dinner plates, the nipples almost lost in the teeming bulk of her breasts and that mammoth engorged gut, which did indeed hang down over her thighs. The navel was a deep wound, drooping past the apex. He swallowed; he'd fucked pussies small than that, or tried to.

"A lot to take in, huh?" she said. Her brown eyes dropped to his dick. "Well, I'm sure we'll have some fun, once you're up for it. Here, let me lie down..."

With something less than grace, she eased herself down n her side. The bedsprings creaked ominously, but Sam had gotten the bed frame from some farmhouse estate sale; it had been in the family a hundred fifty years and the wood was almost as hard as rock. It didn't even have slats; the mattress resisted in an oaken trough right on the floor. Like it was made for this.

She lay on her side, one thigh drawn up, her head-sized tits stack on each other, rubbing her stomach with one hand.

"Come on Sam," she said, voice low and husky. "Let me taste you."

Sam slid on the bed. He didn't even know where to begin with that whale of a body. On her back? From behind? Terrible images flashed through his mind of sinking to the hilt in that ass and not even touching her pussy. Maybe Bea was thinking about that too...but she focused on what was right in front of her.

The mouth was small, almost dainty...but eager. One pudgy hand guided him nearer to her face. Near enough to nuzzle his dick. Run her nose through his pubic hair like a pig snuffling for truffles. Same guided his dick to her mouth...and her lips pulled on his flaccid prick. Not even a hint of teeth, for which he was glad, but she gripped his right buttock and held him close she took the whole thing in her mouth, and then sucked and pulled until only the head was inside, and then relaxed and did it again...and again...like she was jerking him off with her mouth.

It worked, too. Little Sam began to stiffen and grow, the half-hearted way the cock did when Sam was angry and not in a mood to cajole himself, and simply slapped his dick like a cat with a favorite toy until it was hard. Another time and place, Sam would have let himself enjoy the sensation...revel in it. But he had a problem, and that took him away from the chubby cheeks that slurped on his stick as easy as a plate of spaghetti.

Sam looked down at that body...and perhaps he saw it for the first time. The marbled reflection of the fat through the skin, the blue rivers of veins, the map of stretch marks. Bea hadn't been that fat...at least, not always. She had grown over the years, fits and spurts. There were bulges that spoke of muscles, too...but his main focus was on that belly, those vast thighs, and buried somewhere deep inside...what he had wanted. What he still wanted.

Determination hardened in him as the head of his prick grew taut and rubbery. He wanted Bea to feel him. Wanted to make his mark, make this giant of a woman feel him. A part of him pictured himself as the Princess **** Jabba, but he pushed that image out of his mind. Sure, Bea wasn't some stick-thin supermodel he could break with his dick, but that also meant she could actually take a pounding. Hell, he could probably go all out...something he'd never done, for fear of hurting a woman...and that thought stirred his interest until he began to tremble, and that pressure fizzed behind his dick and Sam realized he was closer than he thought. Bea pulled her face away with a wet smack. She leered up at him, saliva spattering her face like the grease from a bucket of fried chicken wings. Those brown eyes seemed to sparkle and dance as she raised her right leg as high as she could.

"Can you find it?" Bea challenged.

"You'll feel me," Sam growled as he walked on his knees around the mountain of a woman.

He had to straddle her left thigh, his balls sliding along her femur. Unlike Luke Skywalker skimming the **** Star's trench, Sam could not afford to just use the ****...because he wasn't looking for the exhaust port. He had come this far for cunny, and he meant to get it.

The right leg pressed on his chest, and his cock was already buried in her mass of brown hair, the curls tickling and scratching at the sensitive head of his dick. Sam had to press himself further up against that heavy, hot body, now lightly sheened with sweat...his fingers dug down, among the tangle...she was obviously too big to trim very often, if ever...

...and then he found the damp patch.

Working blindly, his fingers bored through the thicket like some Victorian explorer in a jungle, seeking the headwaters of the Nile...and he knew he found it when his slippery fingers touch something soft and wet...a crease...which he could just pry open with his fingers, the damned clamshell nearly glued shut from the sticky, trapped vaginal mucous...

"Ahhh! Right there Sammy, right there!" Bea said, completely superfluously as Sam had already slid his dick down through that channel and didn't stop until something hot and wet and tight sucked at his dick.

Sam was hugging that massive gut now, and he could hear it gurgle beneath him. The naked man grinned in ferocious triumph as he began to move, thrusting his hips...and it was nearly everything he imagined.

Waves crisscrossed the swollen stomach with each strike of his abs against her thigh. The titanic tits jiggled and shook, little more than bags of fat that shimmied at the least movement. A strange itchy sensation ran down the base of his prick as Sam watch Bea heft one of her tits and bend it to her own mouth, stuffing that almost-lost nipple in between her painted lips, and the hairs curled up around his glans and began to burn.

Sam didn't care. He was in it now. The bed creaked and shook as he put all of his strength and weight into moving that corpulent cunt. Bea gasped and moaned as his dick pounded inside of her. Such a small thing, compared to her rotundness, but he slammed his six inches home as though he were railing her with a baseball bat, and close as he was and as much as the pain built as his poor dick ran the gauntlet of her hairy abyss with each stroke, Sam listened as Bea's breathing grew shorter and shallower...the moans longer and more frequent...until a pink flush stole over that great, sow-like body and the face was beat-red, both hands squeezing and kneading her fat soft breasts, her whole form quaking and shivering as she approached what had been so long denied...

...and when at last he could take it no longer, Sam withdrew all restraint. Puffing like a steam engine, muscles flexing her pounded away at her cunny as fast and hard as he could, his dick a knot of pain as the rug burn skimmed some of the skin off the sides, his balls drawn up and quivering with need...and when he lost it, Sam didn't even know the exact moment. All he knew is that he was cumming, his balls aching as they strained to squeeze out every last drop, his whole prick a line of fire and hard as a nail that he slammed into her again and again, his dick missing half of his shots and spurting its thick load into the matted hair like a boy becoming a man on prom night.

Until, wheezing and shivering, soaked with sweat and probably two pounds lighter, his balls aching and still spasming, dick crowded with foreign pubic hairs he collapsed on top of her, one ear against that great soft tum, to hear the beat of her heart.

"Hoo," Bea said, as she lay there. "Not much for skill, but I like the enthusiasm. Next time, maybe try to get it a little higher up...you weren't quite on target."

Sam lifted his head...and his soul shrank a little as he realized her meaning.