Bbw and the Pastor

BBW and the Pastor

Introduction

This story is about a relationship between an older BBW white woman (34 yo, 5'7", 220 lbs)) and younger Caucasian man (21 yo) and their relationship that grows from internet chat rooms to IM's to phone sex to meeting face to face where they both indulge in their secret fantasies and role play.

Jodi was a 34 year old office manager in Illinois while Fred was a 21 year old college student in Montana studying theology and aspiring to be a pastor. They seemingly had little in common except a loneliness, but they liked a lot of the same tv shows and movies, which made the conversations easy, and when they met each other on a BBW chat room, little did they know where it would all lead....

*****

Fall of 1999

I still remember when Fred first mentioned that he would be going on a road trip.

"I have a conference in Indiana in a few weeks that I just signed up for," he told me over the phone. "They'll be giving a series of religious seminars and workshops."

"Oh, so I might not hear from you while you're out of town," I replied, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.

"Maybe not... but I was thinking."

"And what exactly is my naughty pastor thinking about?" I playfully demanded to know.

Fred laughed. "Oh, it seems silly, but I'm actually driving to the conference, and I can't help thinking how I'll be passing through Illinois on the way."

I was stunned, almost speechless. What had been a safe space, a purely fantasy relationship now threatened to become physical, and I couldn't process how I felt about that. The trepidation that he'd be disappointed if he met me face to face. Or that we just wouldn't hit it off and somehow ruin the good thing we had going on.

"Oh honey, I'm in the very southern tip of Illinois. I'm so far out of the way of you going to Indianapolis."

"Oh, I see," the disappointment in his voice self-evident.

"But, I mean, I don't know. Let me check my work schedule."

"I'm not expecting happily ever after or for us to fall madly in love or anything," Fred lamented. "I just thought it'd be cool to finally meet the woman I've been having all this mad sex talk with."

"You know, there's a reason I'm single," I reminded him.

"I just think you're a really cool chick. I mean, we seem to have some kind of connection. I thought it'd be cool, even if it's just to hang. I don't need to meet your family, although your mom sounds like a work."

"Now you know why I'm so neurotic," I deadpanned.

"Look, just think it over. I don't mean to make it awkward, but I just thought it'd be cool to meet, even if it's not wild passionate sex, even if it's just for a cup of coffee at a café.

Suddenly, I felt like a jerk. "I'll think it over," I replied, very non-committal.

I tossed and turned all that night, my mind a mess of unreconcilable emotions. I had an undeniable connection with Fred, but a nagging feeling kept gnawing at my gut. Call it self-doubt, call it intuition, but my hopes had been raised and dashed innumerable times in the past to think this wouldn't somehow turn out similarly.

I thought over all the times I was relegated to being a third wheel in life as men feigned interest in me, only to quickly learn they were only interested in my skinnier, prettier friends. I couldn't help but fear that Fred was lusting over the IDEA of me, but if we met face to face, then he'd be confronted by the REALITY of me.

And yet, my pussy tingled with excitement as I thought about all the dirty talk we had engaged in over the months. I WANTED to believe that we could hit it off, that all of our fantasies could become a reality. It was a deep temptation, but with reward comes risk. And in this case, I risked losing the one person in the world with whom I could share my deepest darkest fantasies.

And then all of a sudden, it's like the saying was flipped on its head. With risk comes reward. And what is life without the reward. If you want something in life, then you need to grab it. You need to make your own luck.

Maybe I didn't have a husband or kids. My family suspected that I was at best a homely old maid, or at worst, a closet lesbian. I didn't have a lot of worldly travel or a trailblazing career. My life was perfectly normal. Perfectly boring.

And the more I thought about it, the more I saw an opportunity to step out of my mundane existence and do something memorable, something I might look back on fondly. I realized that it might all go horribly wrong, but now I figured, worst case, maybe I'd look back on it someday and it would all seem funny. But best case, maybe I'd have a chance to finally live out some of the fantasies and scenarios I'd been sharing online and on the phone with Fred. It was a chance to stop talking about living life, and to actually live it.

*****

Fall of 1999

A few weeks later I stepped off a plane In Minneapolis. I took a taxi to a nearby hotel and walked into the lobby. The front desk clerk nodded politely my way, but I turned toward the hotel bar to the right and rolled my carry-on luggage behind me to an empty barstool.

I was a bundle of nerves, my heart pounding, feeling like it might pop right out of my chest. I took deep breaths trying to steady myself, but I still felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

My rolling carry on bag was standing next to me, and I finally slipped off the long coat I'd been wearing ever since I left my apartment. Goosebumps formed on my bare arms and legs as I was left standing in just a little black dress that felt impossibly small, as if my entire body was left on display. The hem was so high, I'd flash the entire bar if I bent over, and the top plunged so low and wrapped so tightly that my tits were practically spilling over.

For a brief second, my fears enveloped me. My body was shaking in nervousness, afraid that I had made a mistake. I was too big and too old to pull to off an outfit like this. This wasn't me, and I felt awkward, unsure how to even sit up on the barstool without making a fool of myself.

"If looks could kill, you'd leave a trail of dead bodies in your wake," a familiar voice that I'd heard a million times before on the phone said from behind, only now it sounded more vibrant. I could hear the timber in his voice. He was real, and it instantly set me at ease.

I turned around and saw a face that up to this point had been something between a dream and a myth. His smile was warm and earnest, but his eyes revealed a lust as they glanced over me, seemingly devouring every inch of my body.

For the first time in my life, I felt alluring, sexy even, and a shot of adrenaline suddenly filled my soul in the form of a healthy dose of confidence.

I smiled back at him and tried to play it cool. "I take it you like what you see. Do you have a name, stranger?"

"Fred," he smiled warmly. "And what's not to like in what I see."

"Fred, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Jodi," I replied as we formally shook hands. I was so nervous, I tried to steady my hand from shaking when we touched. "And I don't know why you're talking to me if you're not interested in seeing more of me."

"Who said I wasn't?" he smiled mischieviously. "I can't imagine you'd have any trouble attracting men's attention dressed as you are. So tell me, what does it take for a man to win your attention."

"I'm a simple woman," I replied, reciting the lines I had rehearsed in my head a hundred times on the flight over, in addition to the countless times we had played this scene out over the phone and online. "If you can make it worth my while, believe me, I'll make it worth your while."

"And what makes something worth your while?"

"Oh honey, money talks, or the woman walks."

I saw the nervousness in Fred's face and heard the quivering in his voice. I knew he was a virgin, and he was clearly venturing into, what was for him, uncharted waters as he waded in our fantasy role play.

"Is $200 worth your while," he asked with a catch in his throat.

I smiled brightly and squinted my eyes at him. "It depends how good a time you want to have, but that's a damn good start."

Pretending to be someone else was liberating, allowing me to explore a whole new side to my personality. I was freed from my job, my responsibilities, my family, and all the judgement and expectations that came with them. I could be sexy and alluring. I could indulge my sexual desires. I could be everything that no one in my day to day life ever expected me to be.

"I've got a room upstairs. What do you say we go there where we can be alone," Fred proposed, his voice growing more confident.

My heart was racing, but it almost stopped in that moment.

It took all of me not to practically leap off the barstool and just jump his bones, but I steadied myself and tried to seductively lick my lips and then bite my bottom lip before responding with a cheeky grin.

"I believe you've got yourself a female companion for the night," I nonchalantly answered.

We couldn't leave the hotel bar fast enough.

As soon as we crashed through the door to our hotel room, his hands were all over me, exploring my body. I had to push him off me and down onto the bed. Then I stepped over to the window and made sure the curtains were closed tight before turning around to face him.

"You wanna play, then you've got to pay," I reminded him.

He smirked but reached for his wallet. He quickly pulled out ten $20 bills and counted them out onto the nightstand. I leaned forward and took the money and put it away in my clutch as his eyes eagerly feasted over my body.

"Much better," I acknowledged. "Now Fred, Fred, Fred. What kind of man am I dealing with?" I asked as I started dancing sultrily in front of him. My hips were swaying to an imaginary beat as my hands pulled down the top of my dress and revealed the lacy bra I wore underneath.

My D cup breasts were barely contained, practically spilling out. The tops of my dark aereolas were plainly visible above the top of the cups, and my nipples were dangerously close to exposure.

I pushed my breasts up and together, and my nipples popped free, and a sly smile came across Fred's face.

"You're a naughty, naughty woman," he said.

"Are you going to punish me, big man," I teased him as I undid the bra and tossed it aside.

Then I pushed the dress down past my waist and let it fall to the floor before I neatly stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

Fred's mouth was agape as he stared at me dressed in nothing but thong panties and high heels. It took him a second to collect himself before he replied.

"A proper woman doesn't take money for sex," he said, his voice cracking.

"You don't think I'm a proper woman?" I retorted.

"I pay you, and I can do anything I want to you."

"What kind of things do you want to do to me?" I asked.

Fred stood up and walked over. He slowly sauntered around my naked body, his eyes studying every inch of me. He was standing behind me when he stopped, and then he brushed my hair behind my ear and leaned in to whisper.

"I'm going to treat you like the whore you are," his voice breathed into my ear.

My body was shaking as his hands reached around in front. One hand cupped my breasts while the other reached for my pussy.

"I don't think a proper woman would have such a wet pussy," he commented as he easily slipped a finger through my slit.

I softly moaned.

"A proper woman wouldn't have such hard nipples," he added as his fingers teased my sensitive nipples.

"Is it so wrong for a woman to enjoy sex?" I countered.

"A proper woman enjoys making love. But you, I pay you a few pieces of paper, and your pussy is damp in excitement to be touched by a perfect stranger you've never met before."

His hands slowly guided me over to the bed, even while he kept fingering me, his pointer finger effortlessly sliding in and out of me.

I laid down on my back and spread my legs for him. Fred lifted my legs up into the air and stared down greedily, lustily at the sight of my shaved pussy.

Then he spread my thick milky white legs wide while he leaned in and inhaled the scent of my sex. I was so turned on, the smell of my arousal filled the room.

"Do you always meet strangers for sex in their hotel rooms?" he asked.

"What does it say about you that you're with a stranger in a hotel room?" I countered.

"How many men have tasted this pussy?" he pondered, ignoring my retort.

I remained silent, not wanting to admit that no man had ever gone down on me. I had shaved my pussy for the first time in my life before leaving for the flight.

And then he slipped a second finger, his middle finger, inside me, and I sighed deeply as he stretched me just a little bit wider.

My juices were freely flowing like a broken tap as he began furiously fucking me with his fingers. I moaned out in pleasure, unable to contain myself.

"Should a proper woman already sound like she is in the throes of passion when a man is but only barely touching her?" he asked me.

"I wouldn't call that barely touching me," I said between shortened breaths.

His finger curled up, and it's as if they activated a secret cheat code. They rubbed against my G spot, a location I found through all my finger and dildo self-pleasure sessions, and which I had faithfully described and recounted to Fred on numerous occasions.

He sensed my heightened arousal, and his fingers moved faster. Meanwhile, even as his middle and forefinger probed my vaginal cavity, his thumb rubbed against my pussy, lightly parting my labia until he found the nub that was my clitoris.

Then he pressed his thumb lightly against it as an anchor or pivot point for the other two fingers he was using to lewdly finger me.

I moaned out all over again. I looked down and Fred was just studying me, watching my body writhe in pleasure, taking in the sight of every shiver, every sigh as I let his fingers drive me to ecstasy.

His other hand reached up and began fondling my tits all over again. For a moment, our eyes locked. He knew he was in complete control of me in that moment. I was completely at his mercy, a puppet for him to control, and he pulled the strings masterfully.

His fingers in my pussy, his thumb on my clit, his hand on my breasts, it all just proved too much, too overwhelming, and I succumbed to his advances as my arousal drove to the forefront.

The moans and sighs turned into higher pitched wordless noises that almost sounded like pain but bore the unmistakable imprint of pleasure.

My body was shaking, trembling. My breath was labored.

And then my back arched, and I spread my legs even wider, inviting my young lover to finger me even harder and deeper.

He fingers worked magic on my G spot, pressing lightly against my clit, and then an explosion went off inside my body.

My voice cracked, and I was left breathless as my muscles, my body convulsed in pleasure, the endorphins reverberated through my body, coursed through my veins, and energized every last nerve, culminating in a primal scream, a wail that echoed off the walls and filled the room with the weight of my orgasm.

And then, as my body collapsed back flat onto the bed, I was a fascinating mixture of exhausted and wired. I closed my eyes and just reveled in the euphoric satisfaction when Fred's fingers slipped out of me, but then I felt something else.

His shoulders pressed against my legs, and then a wet fleshy object touched my still swollen and sensitive sex.

I looked down and saw Fred licking me, his tongue lovingly lapping up my juices. He tongue flitted against my clit, and I took a deep breath as I enjoyed the extra attention he gave me, his tongue not driving me to another orgasm, but just giving me enough stimulation to glide me back to earth after my mind blowing orgasm.

Our eyes met, and for a second our little game of role play didn't exist, and all I felt was a deeper connection than I ever imagined possible.

"I just wanted to know what you taste like," he simply stated.

"I thought you were paying me for sex. I feel like I should have paid you for that."

"Oh, don't worry," he said with a devilish grin. "You'll earn your money."

Fred got up and pulled his suitcase out of the closet while I laid on the bed and just watched him. He was still fully clothed in his dress pants and button up shirt and tie.

"A proper lady would never let a stranger finger her like that and orgasm from such a lewd act," he counseled me.

"Are you trying to turn me into a proper lady, Mr. Fred?"

"I suspect there's little hope of you ever becoming a proper lady, but nevertheless, I think you need to be punished," he remarked as he turned back around, holding two handcuffs.

My heart skipped a beat, and my pussy began to moisten all over again as Fred handcuffed each of my wrists to either side of the headboard.

I watched him as he began to undress in front of me. He seemed almost embarrassed. I remembered he was a virgin, but he proceeded with removing his shirt and tie. He looked even younger in the dim light in our hotel room. I almost felt like I was rocking the cradle as I was reminded that I was over a decade older than him.

Still, he had driven me to orgasm only minutes earlier, and as he dropped his boxers to the ground, he was completely naked from head to toe. He turned around, and his semi-flaccid cock dangled temptingly. He saw me quiver in excitement, and he seemed relieved.

Fred took a second to compose himself, and then he spoke again as he climbed up on the bed on his knees, next to my face.

"If all you are is a whore and a slut, then I guess that's how you should be treated," he decided.

His cock was swinging before my face. I looked up at him and was reminded again that, despite the more controlling tact he was taking, he was a virgin. He had spoken often about his desire to receive a blow job, and I decided to make his fantasy a reality.

I opened my mouth wide and stretched my neck to the side to take him in. Fred pushed his crotch forward, and I wrapped my lips around him, tasting his cock for the first time.

Drops of precum were already leaking out and landing on my tongue. I gently sucked on his shaft with my lips pressed tightly against him while my tongue ran over the head of his cock.

He sighed deeply, clearly enjoying my cocksucking prowess.

Though my arms were restrained, I was able to move up and down on him. Given how he took care to bring me to orgasm and lick my pussy earlier, I was more than happy to return the favor, and his every deep exhale, every long moan just encouraged me to suck him down harder and faster.

His hands reached for my hair, and then he surprised me by pulling me off his cock, although a trail of spit stretched from the tip of his cock to my bottom lip.

I looked up at him, wondering if I had done something wrong.

"You give good head," he conceded. "But a real whore, a real slut, she needs to be fucked."

Fred crawled around the bed. His cock was rock hard and coated in my saliva as he positioned himself at the base of my pussy. I spread my legs wide before him, and he smiled, more smirked, as he took his hard cock and tapped it against my still sensitive, swollen pussy.

"Oh God," I sighed. "Don't tease me like that. I can't take it."

Fred was growing more confident. "Look at you, unable to even control yourself. Your body is shaking, practically begging me to stick my cock in your pussy."

I looked at him, my eyes pleading. "Please. I need it. I need it so bad."

Fred just scoffed, but then he thrust forward, his cock plunging into my sopping wet pussy. I gasped loudly as his cock sliced right through my slit, and he inserted his full length into me.