Bbw Blind Date

Author's Note: The following is a work of fiction. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over the age of eighteen. This is a stand-alone story. However, the character of Beryl appeared previously in "BBW Birthday Reunion." Its focus is on the admiration of big, beautiful women and also includes some light anal play. Enjoy!

***

What was she thinking?

Beryl's whole evening was planned out. Room service. Settling in with her current spy thriller and a bottle of wine. A long, hot bath afterwards. Maybe laying back and fingering herself to a little relief from her usual horniness.

Or work on her manuscript. Not that she's been making much headway with it

.

Why did she ever think that because she loves

reading

spy novels she has what it takes to

write

one?

Whatever. Here she is. Grabbing a seat at the hotel bar. Waiting to meet a total stranger for drinks.

All thanks to Amanda. She called an hour ago while Beryl was walking back to the hotel. Amanda's been a bad influence since they were teens. Nothing's changed, apparently.

"Colin's his name," Amanda said. "He lives around the corner from your hotel. I sent him your picture and he said you're hot."

"What picture?"

"The one from Rose's barbecue," Amanda said.

Beryl shakes her head. Of all pictures, why did Amanda send that one? Beryl was in a white tanktop and jeans shorts. Hair in a ponytail and a beer in hand. Real classy.

The bartender comes over. He's tall with wavy blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and a charming smile. "What'll it be?"

A vodka martini to ease her nerves, perhaps? Maybe not on an empty stomach. No need to be drunk before this so-called date even begins. She glances at the wine list printed on a card set up on the bar. "The sauvignon blanc, please."

Their eyes meet. Beryl detects a spark aimed her way. Into bigger ladies, is he?.

"Whatever you like," he says.

Yeah, I'm sure.

A shiver runs down her back. Damn. She

is

horny tonight. That's what she gets for failing to pack her vibrator on a business trip.

Beryl picks up her phone and opens the picture of Colin Amanda sent her. The one of them in Aruba.

Colin is tall with short brown hair and dark blue eyes. He's bare chested in the photo, his lean muscles evident. One arm is around Amanda, who leans against him. She's in a bikini, her BBW proportions nearly identical to Beryl's.

Beryl sighs. Why's she doing this? Agreeing to meet Amanda's vacation hook-up from last year for drinks. It's nuts.

But Amanda sang his praises and insisted. Beryl gave in, as usual.

"Fine," Beryl said. "But it won't wind up anything more. That's not my style."

"What about David last December?" Amanda asked.

That

was completely different, of course. Beryl and David had a history. They'd worked together, been friends. Even made-out that one time. Colin, however, is a stranger. Even if he is vouched for by Amanda.

Besides, it's only drinks.

Maybe

dinner. That's all.

"You won't regret it," Amanda assured her.

Yeah, right. We'll see.

The bartender returns with her drink. Smiling broadly. Eye contact again "Here you go. Enjoy."

A shiver runs down her back. "Thank you."

The bartender turns away. Out of the corner of her eye she spots a man across the bar glancing her way. He's subtle, checking her out when he thinks she doesn't notice.

She returns the favor, looking him over. He's cute. No doubt. An exceptionally fit build. Vivid gray eyes and tight blonde hair starting to turn white.

He looks her way again. Yup, he's clearly into her. Same as the bartender. She's gotten better at spotting the lingering looks aimed her way. Guys into BBWs are everywhere.

Mr. Gray Eyes would certainly do if her date falls through. Beryl sips her wine, scenarios playing out in her imagination. Mr. Gray Eyes coming over, buying her a drink.

Talk follows. Turns out he's a diplomat. Yeah. Speaks five languages, too. Of course he does. Connections to the intelligence community, as well. An expert in fine art as well as, she'll learn later, cunnilingus.

He looks like a Bruce. Beryl and Bruce, vibing instantly. Laughing and finishing each other's sentences by the end of their drink.

"Another?" Bruce might ask.

Then what? Maybe Beryl places her hand atop his, looking deep into his eyes. "I've a better idea."

They rush upstairs to his suite. Crazed fucking following, Bruce enjoying every inch of her big, beautiful body.

Yeah, that's how it would all go down. Maybe if she was more adventurous, that is. Maybe if she was Amanda.

Beryl takes another sip of wine, her cheeks warm with arousal. Had to leave her vibrator back in Binghamton, didn't she? Some good it's doing her there.

"Alas," Beryl mutters.

Another glance at her gray-eyed back-up plan. His face lights up and he stands. For a moment Beryl expects him to approach her.

Then she sees the woman he's been waiting for. A gorgeous BBW about Beryl's age and measurements. Long, curly blonde hair. A bountiful ass and big tits. Bruce greets her with a kiss.

Oh, well.

Beryl's phone buzzes. A text from Colin. "Running fifteen minutes late. I'm really sorry."

Great start to the evening, huh? Maybe she should have stuck with reading her spy novel or masturbating. Well, at least Colin's courteous enough to let her know he'll be late.

"No worries," she texts back.

Beryl sips more wine and watches Bruce and his new companion. Blondie laughs at Bruce's jokes, swatting his forearm. They'll probably head up to his room before long. Blondie on her hands and knees, her big ass thrust into the air. Bruce nailing her from behind.

Beryl inserts herself into the scenario. Receiving oral sex from Blondie while Bruce pounds that blonde BBW pussy. Then Beryl and Blondie switch places.

Dang

. What's gotten into her?

"Another white wine?" the bartender asks.

Beryl glances down. She hadn't realized she'd finished her drink.

She shrugs. "Sure. Why the heck not?"

***

Colin glances at the time again.

Ten minutes late and counting. Damn it.

The red light turns to green after what feels like an eternity.

Thank goodness.

If the Air Force has taught him anything, it's punctuality. Now here he is showing up late to a blind date. He must seem like a real winner.

He pulls into the parking garage, searching for a spot. Growing later with every passing second. Of all Wednesdays, why is it so crowded tonight?

An empty spot at last. He parks, taking the elevator down to the street. He heads along The Wharf towards her hotel. Willing himself to walk normally.

Calm down

. It's a two minute walk. Don't want to arrive sweaty and flustered, do you? What kind of first impression is that? Especially after showing up late.

Relax. Enjoy the walk.

The Wharf is definitely busier than usual for midweek. Tons of people enjoying the perfect weather. A party onboard one of the yachts in the marina. Several boats out on the water.

A pair of women walking the other direction glance his way. They're cute enough, sure, but far too skinny for his tastes. He smiles at them anyway.

Colin arrives at the hotel. It's sleek and modern with an entrance facing the Wharf. He goes in and spots the entrance to the bar on the far side of the lobby.

His stomach tightens.

Here we go.

He spots Beryl at once. Her head turns at his entry, smiling. She's even hotter than in her photo. And her photo was

hot.

There's no doubt Beryl's Amanda's cousin, either. Same heart-shaped face and plump lips. Identical figures, too. A true BBW.

She's in a short-sleeved bright blue dress with a plunging neckline. It highlights her ample curves perfectly. And, boy, does she have them. In fucking abundance.

Her hair flows down dark and lustrous over her shoulders. Framing her pretty face. Oversized glasses and bright green eyes complete the picture.

He plays it cool, smiling as he approaches. So much for an ordinary evening at home.

Beryl. Wow.

***

Beryl checks her phone.

A quarter past six.

Colin will be here any moment.

Butterflies flutter in her stomach. How odd. Why should she be nervous?

She glances at the door again. She recognizes the man walking in from his photo.

Oh, my.

Perhaps her spy novel can wait till later, after all.

The things a picture can't convey. His chiseled physique, sure. But not the way he moves with such catlike grace. Or the casual confidence he emits in gray pants and light blue sweater.

Or the in-person magnetism of his grin. What a man! Tightly cropped haircut, classic good looks. Deep blue eyes.

Amanda left out the biggest detail about him, though. The one Beryl should've noticed from the photo: He looks a full decade younger than Beryl.

He offers his hand. "Hello, Beryl."

His handshake is firm. She his hands are strong, yet oddly soft. Capable of being as rough or gentle as the situation warrants, she imagines.

Excitement quivers up her back. "That's me."

She winces.

That's me? God, I sound like an idiot.

"Sorry I'm late," he says. "DC traffic is bad already. Throw in a road closure and forget it."

"I understand," Beryl says.

He sits. "Thanks. I feel bad keeping you waiting."

"Not a problem."

The bartender returns.

Colin glances at Beryl's drink. "I'll take whatever she's having."

The bartender nods curtly and leaves.

Colin meets her gaze. His blue eyes hold her in their grip. "Amanda said you were in town for a conference."

Amanda sips her drink, nodding. "A seminar at the Department of Energy."

"Anything exciting?"

"Let's see? Three days exploring the tax incentives surrounding the installation of renewable energy infrastructure."

"Important stuff," Colin says. "Is that what you do, work in renewables?"

Beryl shrugs. "The money part. I'm the CFO for a company that installs wind turbines."

"Wow," Colin says. "You're a high-powered business lady."

"That OK? I've met a few guys who are thrown off by it."

"Sounds like you've met the wrong guys," he says.

Quick on his feet, isn't he?

"Good answer."

The bartender places down Colin's glass of wine and leaves. He really is into Beryl, isn't he? Where might things have gone if she'd stopped by the hotel bar before tonight? This could've been an interesting trip indeed.

Colin takes a sip. "I gotta say, you don't look like a CFO."

Time to have a little fun.

"Why's that? Because I'm a woman?"

He leans forward, a smile forming on his lips. "I was gonna say you look way too

young

."

She nods. "Well-played. But what about you? What do you do?"

"These days," he says. "My main focus is being a student."

Beryl hides her surprise. How young is he? "You're still in college?"

"Graduate school," he says. "I'm also a lieutenant in the Air Force."

"Oh. And they sent you to school?"

He nods. "A master's helps with the promotion boards. I'm in a one-year program at Georgetown for military officers. International Relations and Security. I love it."

"Okay, how old

are

you? You don't look a day over twenty-five."

"I'm twenty-seven," he says.

Beryl nods. Nine years isn't much of a gap. Not that it matters. It's not like she's going to fuck a guy she just met. No matter if he comes with Amanda's endorsement. Or the fact that when he looks at her she wants to rip off his clothes.

Down, girl.

What'd Amanda say about him earlier when she phoned? She was graphic: "The kind of guy who takes his time, know what I mean? Starting out gentle. Driving you out of your mind. Then, when you can't take it anymore, finally giving it to you the way you need."

Dang. My vibrator's going to get a workout when I get home. Better grab up some extra batteries.

Colin looks at her strangely. She realizes he asked her a question and she didn't hear him.

Great. He must think I'm a ditz.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"I asked if you liked your job," he says.

"Sorry. My mind kind of wandered for a second there."

"So...do you like it?" Colin asks.

She shrugs. "I like the salary."

"I'm sure."

"I'm sorry," she says. "That sounded cleverer in my head. I sound like an idiot when I'm nervous. Yes, I do like my job. I like the routine and that I make a good living while also making a positive contribution. Plus, I get to travel some."

"Travel's great," he says. "You get to meet interesting people and experience new things."

"So I'm learning," Beryl says. "It's odd being away from home by myself, though. No kids, no responsibilities."

He sips his wine. "You're a mom?"

"My mother's staying at my place watching them."

"How old are they?"

"The boy's eleven and the girl's nine," Beryl says.

He nods. "I bet you miss them."

"I do," she says. "But I fly home in the morning. I'll be fixing them dinner this time tomorrow."

"Last night in the District," he observes.

She takes a sip, smiling at him. "Might as well make the most of it."

Why'd she say that? This is an innocent,

friendly

date. Barely a date. Drinks. Okay, maybe dinner.

If

he wants.

"Might as well," he says. "Who knows when such an opportunity might come along again."

She raises her glass. "Here's to making the most out of our opportunities."

They clink glasses, eyes meeting. His are like magnets drawing her attention. She notes a hint of green amid the expansive depths of blue.

There's an intensity to his gaze, too. Beryl knows it well. The last time a man looked at her that way she wound up spending a snowy afternoon in his bed. Out-of-the-blue fucking. But that was different, wasn't it? David and her had a history.

The bartender returns. "Another round?"

Beryl turns to Colin. "What do you think?"

"That depends," he says. "Are you ready for dinner? There's some great places nearby."

"You know what? I'm famished." Beryl turns towards the bartender. "I think we're done."

The bartender nods, smiling at her. His eyes sweep over her tits.

The BBW admirers in this town! A girl could get used to it.

"There's a place a few doors down," Colin says. "They have great sushi. It's popular but I'm sure we could get a table. If not, there's Mexican at--"

"Sushi sounds awesome."

Colin grins. "Okay, then. I just need to go to the restroom. Then we'll head over."

The bartender returns with the check. Colin reaches for his wallet but is too slow. Beryl hands her credit card to the bartender first.

"Are you sure?" Colin protests.

"A lady can buy a gentleman a drink once in a while, can't she?"

"Of course," he says.

"You know what?" Beryl says. "Dinner's on me, too. No, don't say a word. That's how it is tonight."

"Are you--"

She scowls, feigning annoyance. "What? You're not one of those types who can't allow a woman to pay, are you?"

He flashes a devilish smile. "Pay for everything you like. Wine me, dine me, shower me with presents."

Good boy.

"Be careful. I might."

"You know," he says. "There's a Porsche dealership in Arlington."

"Don't push your luck."

He heads off to the restroom. Beryl watches him, admiring his ass. She picks up her phone. There's already a text from Amanda asking how it's going.

Beryl types out her response. "We're gonna grab dinner."

Amanda texts right back. "Hot AF, amiright?"

"Agreed," Beryl types. "But it's just dinner. Nothing else. I'm not that type."

"Until you are. Life's short, babe."

The bartender returns and Beryl adds a generous tip. He smiles. "Have a good evening. Hope to see you around again."

She watches him go, a warm feeling between her legs. It's a shock having all these men interested in her all of a sudden. Not that any of it matters. Taking Colin, or any of them, up to her room isn't actually an option.

Is it?

Her eyes fall upon the last words of Amanda's text.

"Life's short, babe."

It is, isn't it?

***

Colin starts back towards the bar, his phone buzzing. A text from Amanda. "She thinks you're hot."

He pauses, typing a response. "I like her, too. She say anything else?"

"Just be your sweet self. Now turn off your phone."

Amanda's right. He turns off his phone. Time to focus solely on Beryl.

Beryl.

She's something rare, isn't she? Hot to the point of distraction, of course. But also charming and playful. His sense is there are layers upon layers to her, waiting to be revealed.

Back at the bar, Beryl stands. She wraps a white shawl over her shoulders.

"Shall we?" he says.

Her face lights up. "Yes, please. I'm starving."

Colin's beaming as he strolls out of the bar with her. He turns his head her way. She smiles back, green eyes flashing.

God, what a woman.

Does she have any idea? She must have some inkling. The way men like him, guys inclined towards big, beautiful ladies, must hit on her constantly.

Colin and Beryl step outside, turning right. Strolling past the shops and restaurants along The Wharf. More boats than before are out on the water.

A guy walking the other direction takes a long look at Beryl. Undisguised lust in his eyes

.

Colin turns towards Beryl, studying her. Is that a prideful gleam in her eyes, along with the beginnings of a smirk on her lips? Yeah, she noticed the way that guy checked her out. Just as she's well aware how he's probably checking out her ass right now

"Do you come here a lot?" Beryl asks.

"Now and then," he says. "When I have a reason to."

Colin's eye falls upon Beryl's necklace, an emerald on a silver chain. "I love your pendant."

She taps it with her fingertips. "It's my personal emblem."

"What's that mean?"

"It's a beryl stone," she says. "Kind of on-point, wouldn't you say?"

"That's not an emerald?"

She clears her throat. "Allow me to clarify. Beryl is a mineral of which there are six types. All contain the element beryllium. Hence the name. Emerald is the most well known."

A fitting name for a gem of a woman.

"That's interesting."

"You're humoring me," she says.

"I'm not. I had no idea. Actually, I've heard the name Beryl but I've never met one until you."

"That's what everyone tells me," Beryl says.

"It's elegant. It suits you."

She smirks. "You

are

smooth, aren't you?"

They reach the restaurant. Colin's heart sinks. The outside seating is packed and there's a few dozen people waiting outside. He inquires with the hostess within. A ninety minute wait. What the heck?

Colin turns towards Beryl. "I'm so sorry. We could wait, if you like. Or try somewhere else."

"I'm a highly flexible woman." Beryl says.

I'm sure.

He'd hoped to impress her, showing off how he knew where to get the best sushi. Scrap that plan. What to do, what to do? The solution hits him. "Let me ask you a question."

"Go ahead," she says.

"How do you feel about meatball parm subs?"

Beryl shrugs. "I like 'em fine."

"What if I told you there's a food truck two blocks from here that makes the best you've ever had in your life?"

Beryl's eyebrows shoot up. "The best I've ever had? I grew up in New Jersey. We do all the parms and subs and pizzas better than anyone."

"Nevertheless," he says.

Beryl cocks her head and shrugs. "Okay. Lead the way."

They walk towards the end of The Wharf. Past the Shake Shack and the Belladonna Sisters Cupcakes. In the direction of the Tidal Basin to Guiseppe's Hot Subs. There's a long line there.

"Popular spot," Beryl says.

"It moves quickly. You'll see. I know how to show a lady a good time."

She casts him a knowing smirk. "I'm sure. It's still my treat, you know."

When it's their turn to order, they get a large meatball sub to split and two cans of soda.