The Best of Times

Apparently it was all true. I not only couldn’t get enough of orally giving worship to abundant hindquarters, but my tongue was clearly bigger, and its size was still increasing! And my energy level was constantly high. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I could even see the transformation in my face -- my worry lines were slowly fading away. My hair wasn't growing back, but all other systems were on a fast track back thru time. I couldn't recall ever feeling so feisty and willing and ready -- in a word, hungry. The triple discipline of submission, humiliation, and never-ending ass worship were new leases on life. The more I bowed to the frantic and assertive cravings of those bawdy and hot-blooded larger women, the better I felt. I had found my place in life, at long last.

Melannie would butt fuck me with her fearsome strap-ons and I would butt fuck her with my freaky tongue, and we'd go at each other like that all morning. Not even full afternoons of dining on endless strange women's huge hineys could slow me down. So that once or twice a week, she had to let me go out on my own. Melannie called it "letting the dog out," and I was truly grateful for her understanding.

It was usually in the early evening, so that I'd have time to follow my nose ... Melannie liked the thought that something odd and funky would happen to me, something I could tell her about while I was helping her with her weight training in the mornings when nobody was around, something to get her into the mood to strap on the big one and proceed to fuck me silly. After I would already have pistoned her rectum with my tireless tongue for a spell, of course ... Melannie was becoming truly addicted to the tricky, snaking thrills I could drive boldly up between her spread cheeks. A lesser woman would’ve fallen in love by now . . .

I would cruise the taverns and bars of the small river town casually, staring at the sleazy interactions and at all the varieties of flirtational oddness that caught my eye -- I was rarely disappointed. After a long day of being the Friendly Man at Secrets, of kneeling down behind demanding big ladies and worshipping their wondrously well-endowed rear-ends, it was a distinct pleasure to gaze upon women who did not know my special talent, women who thought of me only as an unattached male who was afflicted with the usual horny male cunt-cravings. Oh, I was cocky on those nights, sly and dirty-minded as an elder, high and spunky as a lad. Sneaking up on some strange . . .

It was so very exquisite to be in normal-man drag, just another stiff dick hoping to have some anonymous woman take mercy on my rigid and utterly immoral condition. They didn't have to know I'd spent the greater part of the early afternoon hours with my nose buried up in the ass cheeks of several variously squirmy ladies who knew me only as the wiggly long tongue that burrowed so willingly, so deeply, uninhibitedly and inexhaustibly ...

Rare though it was on my off-day rounds, I'd occasionally spot a jewel, an unsuspecting female of such extraordinary appeal that my fundamental instincts would become inflamed. Usually, such an unsuspecting female would be some married woman out on a momentary lark, out for a tipsy good time, a woman who did not expect to meet a man of my worshipful nature. Valerie was one such lass . . .

I first noticed Valerie at one of my favorite bars, Dillinger’s, a low dive that usually was very quiet till after the hours of ten or so. I'd stop by on my off nights right around seven, taking it easy to start with, cruising slow, just looking at whatever there was to see that seemed interesting.

Valerie was obviously married. And obviously stopping by for a few drinks after a shift at some local factory -- she wore jeans and a sweatshirt and seemed to be entirely too jovial, as if the booze was goosing her spirits beyond the norm. She and two other gals were shooting pool, but not seriously -- their chatter was non-stop, and the games they shot took forever.

Valerie was kind of short, not my taste in that department, but really well-hung from the chest -- she was so top-drop-dead gorgeous and heavy her big breasts would shake and sway with a hypnotic motion when she stroked her shots on the pooltable ... her bosoms were so full and pendulous they were spellbindingly out of proportion to her short stature. My guess was that she probably had two or three little yappers at home that she had to breast feed and I wondered what her nipples were like, if they had been suckled on so much that they, too, were in a state of exaggerated largesse ... I figured that they were probably no longer particularly sensitive, that I would have to suck them long and hard to get her aroused, probably even have to pinch and tug on them some to get her going. I was ready, of course, for all of that.

She'd spread her legs when she bent to the balls, and her thighs were strong and her hips were wide. It was the usual thing with me -- I was always such an absolute sucker for the heavier type gals and I just couldn't tear my eyes away, and finally, in the worst kind of abject worship, I put my small change upon the rail. Valerie's two companion gals sized me up as I placed my coins, both of them also in jeans and sweatshirts. One of them was a dirty blond. The other was a tallish Black gal.

I loved it when strange women sized me up -- their glances were like subtle probes between my legs, and I would invariably start getting an erection. Valerie's friends glanced with ill-concealed avidity at the swelling that distorted my trousers. I stood off to the side awaiting my turn, leaning and letting my swelling be apparent and obvious, not seeming, myself, to be aware of it -- I wanted my arousal to appear to be something I did not know the women could see. Such coyness invariably worked, simply because the women always saw right thru me. Still, it was my great pleasure to pretend I didn't know they were cutting glances at my growing interest. The more I pretended to be unaware, the more the gals would leer. It was a game we all played, and sometimes it paid off.

Valerie's friends became gradually more and more beside themselves, staring openly at my crotch while they chattered, yet they acted like I was not in on their growing lust -- they made like they weren't really staring, getting louder and laughing a lot. Of course, I saw right thru them as well. While I stared at Valerie's enormous bosoms swaying, they leered at my growing discomfort. Everybody was pleased as punch.

I was dressed for the occasion. My slacks were thin, snug, and of a soft material, and they hugged my ass cheeks and swollen front. When the women finally finished their game, it was my turn to rack and I squatted to lift the balls out from the end of the table. I spilled them into the rack, then stood and bent forward over the table to tighten them before lifting the rack off the triangle. I spread my legs as I bent over the table to tighten the rack and I could feel Valerie's friends eyeing my ass ... I knew my slacks were just right against my heavy balls, highlighting them, and as I bent I could feel their eyes up under me and on my balls, sizing them up and maybe even wanting to reach over and give them a bawdy squeeze. The loudness of their laughter made the whole game so obvious . . .

One of Valerie's friends even emitted a low whistle while I was bent over and that was music to my ears. The touch of their glances on the fabric that caressed my fat, hanging testicles was so palpable a shiver ran down my spine. At any second I expected to feel a hand groping me under my butt, but when I looked for Valerie after I'd finished racking, she had gone over to the jukebox. I stared over at her where she stood punching in the selections ... I couldn't stop staring at how broad and inviting Valerie's magnificent ass was, till I noticed someone else . . .

The other woman was standing there also, bending over to scan the selections. She was wearing a long skirt that fell almost to her ankles, but there was no way of concealing the spellbinding broad girth of those incredible hips -- she leaned at the jukebox with her legs spread, just as mine had been, but it was the heft and spread of her hams that drew my eye. Her hip cheeks were lusty loaves awaiting the test of taste, and the way she was bent into the box made those great loaves thrust out, high and full. My cock grew ever heavy and prominent as I fantasized giving my oral talents to those generous charms. I knew that when and if I ever sank my miraculous tongue in there, that gal would groan like ... like a day spent falling slowly from the sky, like a night spent rising slowly from the bottom of sea . . . she wouldn't know what hit her, and I wouldn't be able to get rid of her. My tongue was already a good two inches longer than it had been, close to six inches by now. It was strong and nimble, triple-jointed or so it seemed, and still growing! And what I wanted to do, staring at both extraordinary women bent to pick songs off the box, was sink my tongue deeply where the sun don’t shine . . .

Without knowing what I was doing, I found myself walking over to where she leaned, pulled by the gravity of those enormous buttocks which reared out behind her so that I had to edge very carefully around them… I pretended to be looking for the chalk and I brushed her hips lightly as I passed. They were without doubt the largest, lushest pair of cheeks I had seen since my transformation had started happening, and I was certain we were meant for each other! Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her look sharply around at me, then turn back to the jukebox.

Oh but my obsession with enormous buttocks was making me careless, so that I had to mentally kick myself, else I would be found out as the hungry, worshipful sap I was. I chalked my cue tip carefully as Valerie swung into her break, hitting the balls squarely and with a solid loud whack! that showed her athleticism. She didn't make any balls off her break, but the power of her stroke was undeniable.

"You go, girl!" the Black gal called out. The balls were nicely spread around the table, but I was in no hurry and missed after making just one.

"Are you laying down on me?" Valerie teased. "Not yet," I grinned. The gals hooted at this. Valerie got a look of serious intent on her face as she bent to her shot. She held her posture longer than I thought was necessary, so long that I figured she was teasing me back. Her heavy breasts swayed hypnotically, their tips just touching the green felt as she kept slowly stroking. No one spoke, so that it seemed everyone else was also entranced by her. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed even the woman in the long skirt over at the jukebox had turned to stare. When Valerie finally let the tip of her stick glide thru the cueball, everyone exhaled. She made the shot, then made a couple more before missing. And each time she had lined up a subsequent shot, she continued to take her time, teasing us all. When she finally stood up and backed away from the table her nipples were prominent under her sweatshirt. She knew how to perform, and she was proud of how she’d caught us all. So that even though my prick stayed hard, it was as if I'd just lost my audience. Valerie was like an old time stripper who strutted her stuff with skillful indirection. We stayed glued to her every deliberate move, each of us excited by her in our own way.

Toward the end of the game the cueball was in a difficult place on the table so that I had to lean to it awkwardly. To make it easier, I had to lift my leg along the rail, standing on one foot. Once again my ass and balls were on display, taking the attention back from Valerie. As deliberate as she had been, I held my posture longer than necessary, slowly moving my stick back and forth. Except for the music on the jukebox, the room grew still and tense. I drew it out even longer, continuing the slow swing of my stick and savoring the attention. Getting my audience back, I even licked my lips, and did so in such a way that Valerie’s two seated pals saw my true gift. I let my tongue curl down under my chin, teasing them. My secret weapon, and I silently gloated. The seated gals stopped laughing.

From where she had been standing, Valerie did not see me lick my chin that way . . . she was getting impatient, wondering what the hell was going on. When Valerie took the butt end of her cuestick and wedged it roughly up under my ass against my balls, it was with just enough force to cause me real pain.

Startled, I jumped back off the rail, reflexively clutching at the pain, making it seem that the hurt was greater than it was. Truth be known, it hurt a lot, what with my balls already being in such a swollen condition, but not as much as I made it seem. The gals were again laughing and hooting loudly, but Valerie rushed up to me with a look of concern that was also fake.

"Oh, I'm so sorry ... I was just kidding around!" she said, "Does it hurt so much?"

I looked into her eyes, but they were not at all truly sympathetic. There was mischief mingled with a strong taste of triumphant cruelty flickering deeply in those married woman eyes. She’d imbibed just enough merry booze to reveal the edgy unbridled side of herself. Disguising my true hurt, I painted a look of controlled alarm upon my face, pretending to be brave.

"It's ok," I managed, "just give me a second." "Take all the time you need, honey ... I can wait," she said. Cruel, fat, married bitch. She strode over and stood by her pals. I tried to walk it off, passing the gal in the long skirt, who had by then taken a seat by the jukebox. I could tell she hadn't seen my tongue either. She looked me over candidly, staring at my hand that was still cupped protectively at my crotch. When her eyes lifted, there was definite interest, but tinged with amusement.

"That wasn't very nice of her," the woman in the long skirt said. She crossed her legs then, hiking her hemline high enough that I could at least see her calves. Despite my discomfort, or maybe because of it, I could have sunk to my knees right then and licked her calf, it was so beautiful and full. "Maybe you should give it a rest for awhile, Honey. Concede the game and take a seat. Give yourself a break."

I stared at her, considering her advice, well aware that she was hitting on me. I put up my cue, telling Valerie, "I think I'm overmatched," and then I walked over to the bar and carefully got onto a barstool. My testicles still smarted, so I sat gingerly on the edge of the stool with my legs widespread. I wondered more about the gal in the long skirt than about Valerie, and then, still laughing loudly, the three gals strolled out of the bar. Glancing at them, I saw a look of appreciative wonder on the dirty blonde's face. And the Black gal murmured, "Licked the girls and made them cry!" As Valerie passed, she just had to mock me: "I truly am sorry, sweetie, but you really left yourself open for that one! Such a nice butt you have -! How could I resist? Try keeping both feet on the floor next time!" In my pride, I silently cursed her on her way, but in my abject libido I silently cried out for her to stay.

I nursed my beer and stared at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The humiliation I felt was not the kind that gave me secret pleasure. I just felt crummy and sad. I ordered another and was almost done with it when the barmaid, Jolene, sat yet a third one in front of me. Jolene was a good gal who knew I worked as the Friendly Man over at Secrets. "It's from the lady," she said, nodding back at the woman in the chair with the long skirt. "I didn't see what went down, but she said you were sorely taken advantage of ... she wanted you to know we're not all such bad asses."

I looked back, prepared to raise my bottle in thank you, but the woman in the chair was not looking my way. I walked back to the men’s room, still hoping to catch her eye, but still she was looking the other way. I wondered if she was ignoring me, but then out of the corner of my eye I saw that her long skirt had risen higher, up to her kneecaps now. I knew that if I bent lower, I could probably caress her underthighs with my eyes, but I resisted that temptation . . .

I went into a stall in the men’s room and dropped my britches, checking to see if Valerie's rough nudge had left a mark. Tenderly lifting my sac, I could see no evidence of her unkind act. Ever since I’d been hung from the wall up at the Playhouse, with a vibrating butt plug up my ass so they could milk ungodly loads of my cum over and over again, my testicles had swollen and had kept generating sperm in unprecedented amounts, so that sperm just kept backing up in me, causing my balls to become so engorged and huge. It also made them extremely sensitive, which Valerie had so cavalierly discovered. I cupped each heavy testicle in turn and they both seemed as full and ready as they had ever been, just as throbbingly primed with juice as ever. Oh how I longed to unload!

I was surprised that my cock was also still up, and I smiled to myself at that, aware that for me pain and humiliation were two-sided -- the more I considered it, the more it all seemed not such a bad thing after all. When I emerged from the john, my spirits were back. Feelings of having been mistreated had passed. I decided that the only really bad thing that had happened was that I hadn't been prepared, that I was just too surprised to get off on Valerie's nasty wee deed when it had happened ... had I known what was coming, I'd probably have lifted higher and spread wider, and even stayed with my posture awhile longer after the hit, inviting another!

Coming out of the john, I looked to the long-skirted gal, but she was nowhere to be seen. I asked Jolene if she'd gone and learned she had indeed left the bar. But Jolene told me the gal's name was Marlene. She also said she’d let Marlene know I worked the afternoon shift at Secrets. I winked at Jolene, eyeballing her figure appreciatively, and told her I owed her one.

"One what?" Jolene laughed. "Just what is it a Friendly Man does to earn his keep over at Secrets?"

"I just try to pay attention to the bottom line," I replied. "Melannie appreciates my attention to the basics." Again, I let my eyes rove down over Jolene's full-figured abundance. "You can drop by anytime - my treat!" I was pretty sure Jolene had a perfectly accurate notion of my usefulness to the Secrets agenda, and I was quite willing to give her a free demonstration.

"Whatever... " Jolene offered, but I noted the edgy glint in her eyes. To bring out a woman's deeply suppressed will to dominance was my mission in life, the low rung on the sexual/social ladder that I occupied with such eager aplomb. That edgy look that crept into Jolene's eyes was the confirmation of my usefulness to inhibited women. They all needed a Friendly Man to abase and abuse, one who could return their avid interest with fervent adoration, always asking for more, begging for more, giving it up enthusiastically. I was a bar-star to all their lowest aspirations. Hard to beat. Easy to beat. And one hell of a sap for big ass!

I left Jolene a generous tip and savored the distinct possibility that I might be seeing her, and also the heavy goddess Marlene and those enormous hips of hers, again soon. I vowed inwardly to stay well prepared for that eventuality. No more rough surprises from the rear that caught me so off guard. Or at least none that I couldn't get off on and ask for more of.

When I told the tale to Melannie the following morning, she seemed strangely indignant. She was nude on her back on the weights bench and I was standing near her head, spotting her to make sure she didn't have an accident. Melannie was sweating profusely, the juices making her body shine.