Smash Or Be Smashed

Sam had to grab Bea's arm to steady her. There were only a few steps from the doorway of the bedroom to the mattress, but there was nothing else to steady her. She smiled a thanks as they crossed the gap. He took the few steps as time to plan his **** on her body.

The image he had was to get her on her knees...let her grab the headboard with both hands...and then Sam could plow into her from behind. That would give him the maximum control, and probably allow the maximum depth of penetration. If he had to fuck a fat woman, it was better to be on top where he had some say in things.

The bed was an ancient four-poster that Sam had gotten cheap from a farm sale; generations of stout pioneers had been conceived, born, and probably died on that bedframe, though the pillow-top mattress was a new addition. Sam doubted even Bea's mass would shift the bed; it had taken four people to get it into the room.

"You know," Bea said as they reached the edge of the bed. "I wasn't always this big. I mean, I was always a big girl, but..."

"What happened?" Sam said.

"I was a wrestler and weight lifter in high school and college," she said, the pretty smile sad now. "Blew a knee in my senior year. Had to stop training, but I couldn't shift my eating habits, you know? So the weight just kept piling on and on...and the more I weighed, the harder it was on my knees. Vicious cycle. Anyway, up you go."

"What?" Sam blinked...but one of Bea's hands had grabbed the back of his robe, and with a deft one-handed throw she lifted and tossed him onto the bed. The robe came off so that Sam landed naked on the mattress. His head hit the backboard hard enough to shake him—and when Sam had risen up, Bea was already on the bed, crawling toward him on all fours like a charging hippopotamus.

One pudgy hand seized an ankle and **** him underneath her. Too late, Sam tried to struggle out from underneath her...but the great floral pink nightmare above him effortlessly grabbed his wrists as she maneuvered herself atop her naked prey, until he was pinned beneath her bulk—those impossible buttocks crushing his thighs to the mattress. Bea let go of his hands long enough to pull her dress off of her body...and Sam moaned in disbelief as the great soft mass of her belly poured down on his torso.

She mistook his moan for excitement. Looking at her, Sam knew what neolithic man might see as he supplicated himself before some ancient fertility idol. Bea's head eclipsed the light from this angle, her dark bun of hair set aflame from behind in an unholy halo. One hand pinned his chest down as her ass rose and she fumbled around under the "skirt" of flesh between her stomach and her pussy...

...until they seized his cock.

Instantly, Sam got hard, something he hadn't done since he'd been legal to drink. It had to be the fact that another human being was touching him—that it had been so long and he was so keyed up. That's what Sam told himself as she guided it between the folds to one that was wetter and tighter than the others.

"Oh ho! Thought I was going to have to suck you off, but looks like you're ready to go!" Bea said, voice bubbling with amusement. "Well you just lay back and let me do all the work—I need the exercise."

Her arms stretched out and grabbed the headboards, just as Sam had planned. Bea's huge breasts dangled in his face, blocked out the light. Uselessly, he lifted his arms to wrestle with that slab of lard she called a stomach...but she was too heavy, too well-balanced, too strong. It was like fighting a sumo wrestler.

"Hmm," she said. "I'm gonna move now, darlin'...you just play with anything you can reach, and I'll be fine..."

Her hips moved. The mass shifted on top of him, and Sam gasped. He was trapped beneath her, and she was sliding against him...almost grinding him into the mattress. Sam's rigid prick, trapped inside that pocket of flesh, was hard as a rock, battered back and forth as her stomach slid up and down his abdomen. Sam's face locked into a rictus grin as he realized there was nothing else for it. He'd have to endure until Bea got off...and got off of him.

With nothing else to do, Sam's hands moved up from her flabby gut to those impossibly sough, doughy tits. His fingers sank into the pale, sweaty undersides in a way that made him shiver. All his life, Sam had been used to smaller, firmer breasts...the kind that could fit into a palm. Once, he'd gotten a lap dance from a stripper with implants, and he'd both marveled and been disconcerted on how hard they were as she had rubbed them in his face. This thought...this was on another level. The tits had to be bigger than his head. All he could see when her looked up was the vast, veiny masses that hung over his head...that flopped as Bea picked up steam, her body shifting faster and harder, her breathes coming in a little wheeze...

I'm in hell, Sam thought to himself. Trapped in a cave of hot flesh, ground down, nothing more than a dildo for her use. If she has a heart attack right now, she'll crush me and I'll die beneath this hill of a bitch...

Except Bea didn't have a heart attack. Though he could not see it from where he laid, Bea's face grew beet red, and her hairbun had come undone. Her body, so long denied, hovered at the cusp of climax. All she needed was a little more...a little more...

She raised her hips. There was a wet sucking sound as Sam felt himself drawn up with her...and then as he began to slide out, her mighty buttocks came down hard with all of her mass. Sharp pain burst through Sam's lower body, like a physical blow. His testicles, trapped between his thighs, suddenly seemed to swell and throb. Tears came to his eyes...and then the buttocks began to lift up again.

"Huh...uh...uh....uh..." Bea granted, sweat pouring down her body as her hips rolled, the muscles and fat shifting under her skin. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the headboard, and again and again that ass rose and fell, each one pummeling and punishing Sam as she worked harder and faster.

He didn't even know when he came. A hot white spurt trickled down over his bruised balls, and Bea didn't even feel it. She was lost in her own world, those great tits rising and falling, hitting his face like punching bags...and when at last she hit her precipice Bea moaned and collapsed forward to wrap her arms around Sam and hug her body to him.

Sam felt crushed...bruised...used...and now sweltered, unable to breathe as tits crushed his head, as this hot body wrapped all around him and shook and moaned so hard that the venerable bed rattled in its frame.

Something pushed the tits away. Sam gasped for breath, sure there was something broken inside of him, nuts aching...he stared up into Bea's smiling, beatific face.

"That was amazing darlin'. You were wonderful. Only...well, I've always wanted someone to eat me out after. You wouldn't mind, would you? No, don't move, I can do it..."

She dragged herself up his chest. Sam could feel his purple and crushed cock flop loosely between his legs as she dragged her flabby cunny up his body, leaving a trail of slime made up of their conjoined fluids. His last thought, as she lifted that skirt of a stomach over his head so that she could bring her hairy, swollen sex up to his face was:

So this is how it ends.

Except Bea had more plans for her new boytoy. So many positions she wanted to try...and part of what Sam tasted when those sloppy labia rubbed against his face were his own tears. Trapped beneath her stomach, close enough to hear the rumble of her guts...and knew he was doomed when he heard her words:

"You know...I could...really get a crush on a guy like you..."

Which is how Sam felt right now, as her opened his mouth to taste that tart, musky mix, the pad of fat just above her clit pressed into his eyes until he couldn't see and could hardly breathe. She was talking about a crush...but Sam was actively being crushed, the weight and pressure building on his neck as more and more of her weight settled on him...and as the darkness closed in, Sam wondered what the hell he had signed up for.