Tons of Fun

Sam looked out...and then down, into a shy smile and easy brown eyes. It was an attractive face, well-made up. Then proportion re-asserted itself. Same noticed the soft round swell of a second chin...the vast uncovered hamhocks of the upper arms that spilled out of the pink floral print dress, the great gut that pressed against the column of her mobility scooter which had brought her from her car to his front door.

Realizing he was staring, Sam swung the door open as wide as possible and ushered her in. The motor whined as it heaved her bulk across the threshold, and Sam could get a better view of his "date."

Seated, she was at least two heads shorter than Sam; maybe five foot five...but based on her proportions, he guessed she had to weigh at least four hundred pounds. The skin was soft and settled into rolls of fat around her neck, elbows, and knees. The pink dress his the full extent of her immense stomach, but it had to hang over her mound and hide it from view. A golden anklet half-sunken into her flesh hung on for dear life, yet her hands and feet were dainty, with well-manicured and painted fingers. The bottle-blonde hair was done up in a bun, held in place with chopsticks, or else it might have hung down past the collar—if you could find a collar—and the breasts were immense, and rested on either side of the swell of that stomach.

For a moment, Sam even considered the possibility that she might be pregnant—but she was so big, how could he tell?

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked, as he closed the door behind her.

"Beer, if you have any," she said. Her voice was sweet, with just a hint of a faded Texas accent. Sam hurried off to the fridge and broke out a couple bottles of a local microbrew. She was carefully extracting herself from her scooter as he approached and flashed him a white-toothed smile. "I'm Bea, by the way."

"Sam," he said as he popped the tops. They clinked necks and both took back a swig.

Standing up, Bea was only a few inches shorter than Sam...and he picked up on other details. Hints of wing tattoos on her shoulders, not visible beneath the dress. Most of her weight, he decided, was carried around her middle, but the ass was like a helipad, each cheek as wide as his chest.

"I, uh, was glad I didn't scare you off," she said as she lowered the bottle, which was half-gone. "Being my size, and with my mobility issues...can turn off a few folks. And then there are always the freaks. The feeders, gainers, all that scene. I mean, I know I'm fat, but it's not a fetish or lifestyle thing for me, you know?"

Sam nodded. He moved the beer across his chest, up and down.

"Not a pervert, I promise." He said...and wished, somehow, he had some proof of that.

"Good," she took another sip. "But you're down to fuck, right? Not going to get me all hot and bothered and leave me high and dry? It's been...a long time for me. I need this. Or I wouldn't have used the app."

Sam nodded, surprised at how much they had in common. "I'm in the same boat, really. Before you showed up, I was prepared to knock a hole in the wall and fuck that."

She giggled. It was a cute giggle. Those soft brown eyes squinted a little as they eyed Sam up and down in his bathrobe.

Mixed signals fired between balls and brain as they finished the beer. Obese women did nothing for Sam, normally. He'd seen women almost as big as this in the store, and couldn't believe how anyone would let themselves get that way. Just the thought of the sweaty masses of flesh made his skin crawl...yet on the other hand she really did have a cute face, and a nice personality, and they were getting along pretty well.

Sam just hoped he could get it up, and keep it up. And that the bed could take it.

Bea set the empty bottle down on the counter. There was a little more color in her face, and as she moved toward him Sam had a flashback to one of those 3D rides at a theme park, a hippopotamus charging out of the screen. Chubby fingers slid through the front of his robe to lay a warm palm against his belly.

"I don't think you're quite ready yet," she said, voice almost a purr. "But why don't we go into the bedroom and I'll suck your dick off while you think about how you want to fuck me?"

Sam nodded, hoping he came across as suave rather than **** or puppy-eager. He set his empty bottle next to hers, and let her proceed him, hands on the walls for support. Once again, he found himself looking at an ass like a pair of prize-winning pumpkins...and wondered how the hell he was going to deal with this particular challenge.