Big Girls Dont Cry Out

Hello lovely readers,

This one is lighter than my usual work, and consentual -- more of a suggestive story to whet your appetite than the usual feast of debauchery. If you're looking for the usual explicit sex and NC villainy, you might want to skip this one. On the other hand, it's quick, and pretty hot in its own way. Let me know what you think.

Dedicated to the short kings and Amazon queens out there.

-IT

Addison nursed her drink, watching the crowd. The first set wasn't bad, some solid EDM that got her dancing. And she wouldn't say she was having a bad night, just a bored night. She wasn't a big festival-goer, but the lineup wasn't bad, the show was local, evening tickets were pretty cheap, and there was a nice park where she could take a walk around if she got tired of dancing. But one set in, she felt like a jog around the neighborhood would have gotten her as pumped and saved her the drive and the pricey drinks. She'd really been hoping to get a little more attention, too.

Addison was a big girl. Tall, broad shoulders, big bust, big butt, long legs, thick thighs. Big everything. the kind of girl a lot of men said they wanted -- seemed to want -- except maybe in a few sizes smaller. At a sliver over 6'2", Addison towered over a lot of men, and she knew very few she'd have to look up at. That she was pretty femme and liked her heels only complicated the problems. A lot of men were intimidated by her, and the ones who approached her always had to make her height a thing. Negging with some bullshit like, "you look good for a big girl," or else just flat out fetishizing her, like, "damn girl, there's so much of you to love."

The thing was, she fancied shorter men. Something about towering over him and knowing that later at night he was going to put her on her back or her knees and just pound her always got her going. But finding a dominant short guy who she vibed with and wasn't afraid to approach her, and on top of that, wasn't gonna boast like he'd just scaled Mt. Everest or act like he had something to prove -- it wasn't easy. Male insecurities could be a minefield, and Addison had little tolerance for those games.

She wandered away from the stage, sipping some water and feeling the hot afternoon stillness revive into a nice, cool breeze. It was a nice feeling, but she was still just about done. It was a set break now, and there was no one else on the lineup she was all that psyched to see.

"Not feeling it?"

Addison turned to the left. The man was almost a head shorter than her, with subtly styled, dark hair and a neat, close-cropped beard that outlined his sharp features and strong jaw. He looked strong, but not too bulky. He was wearing black slacks and a short-sleeve tee that fit tight but well, over some fitted jeans. He looked like a man who might be able to take care of a big girl.

"Yeah, some days they don't bite," she said. "How about you?"

He shrugged. "Decent set, fun crowd. But I guess I'm just looking for something a little different tonight."

"And how will you know when you find it?"

He smiled at that, looking just a little bashful. "I usually have a pretty good idea. You want me to show you?"

"Show me? What do you mean?"

HIs dark eyes sparked, and he jerked his head towards the parking lot. "I'll show you."

She sighed. "You won't get me that easy," she said.

"Did I say that? One thing at a time." Nice ass on him. Nice shoes, good vibe. She felt a little giddy. It was stupid to follow a guy whose name she didn't even know, but he was walking in the general direction of the parking lot, which suited Addison whichever way this went. They stopped behind a little utility building and visitor center, now closed.

"Alright," he said, "To be honest, I know already, and I have four ways I know for sure."

"I'm listening."

"Well, a gorgeous girl following me out back behind the schoolhouse without even knowing my name is something different."

She smirked. "Maybe I just wanted to get way from the teacher."

"Maybe, but I have other ways of knowing. May I?" She nodded, and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Like this." He pushed her gently but firmly against the wall, facing him. She looked down into his face, stark and shadowed in the blue evening light. "Just like that," he said.

"Like what?"

"Hmm. Actually, would you humor me and cross your hands behind your head? It's for the demonstration."

"Sure it is," she said, sarcastically. But nonetheless, she did what he said. She felt her cheeks flush at the way he looked at her.

"Beautiful. You like it when a man arranges you how he wants you. That's number two."

"Sometimes. With the right man," she said, archly. "What's three?"

He held his palms out, face up. "Can I see your hands?" His hands were very warm, almost hot.

"Thank you. Seems like you like being handled by the right man, too."

"That's just number two again."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I'm going to trap your wrists behind your back and you're not going to say a thing. That's something new."

"Oh. Uh, look Mr., uh-" God damn it, why didn't she know his name? She had the strange thought that she'd definitely put a stop to this if she only knew his name.

"Shh. You're not going to say a thing, remember?" His grip shifted to her wrists and started to push them back behind her.

"Look, this is-" he stopped, holding her arms where they were. She'd wanted to stop him, hadn't she? But his hands were strong. She pulled, testing his strength, and her arms barely moved.

He smiled, seeing that she wasn't fighting, and made a soft sound in his throat. She leaned forward, and he pressed her arms together them behind her, bundling her wrists together in one hand. She felt his other arm brush against her as he fished in his pocket momentarily, then came back out. "Keep them like that for a moment," he said, quietly.

"Okay, but... oh." She felt thin cord bite into her wrists, wrapping around and around, then cinching. It was quick -- almost a single continuous movement, and he was doing it blind, behind her back, his arms wrapped around her as she stood over him.

He stood back admiring his catch. She pulled, testing the bonds. It would be a struggle to escape, if it were possible at all. "Good girl," he said. "Are you ready for four?"

She couldn't meet his eyes. She cleared her throat, but when she moved her lips, no sound came out. Finally, she nodded her head. He reached up, pulling her head down and forward, until his lips pressed against hers, kissing her slowly and deeply, seemingly savoring the knowledge that she couldn't pull away, couldn't call out or even speak, even if she'd wanted to. Enjoying how, even though they were just a few yards from the crowd, she was already his.

"Very nice," he said, looking into her face. "Something different for both of us, isn't it?" She managed to force herself to meet his eyes and nodded. She felt his hand slowly trace down her front, and looked away, feeling his eyes on her. She heard some people passing by, a chuckle, some whispered words. It was all so public, and she wanted to tell him to stop. Instead, she spread her legs and felt him reach up under her skirt, into her panties, his finger sliding along her lips. Then inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a whimper.

"Good girl," he said, pulling his hand out. "Would you like to go somewhere more private where we can get to know each other?"

She nodded. "I'd like that to. Are you ready?"

She wanted to ask where he was taking her, to have her hands back so she could call a friend and tell her where she'd be, or at least have the option of walking away if she needed it. But they were already walking to the parking lot, his hand gripping her where her wrists joined, the spot where she'd become his.