Bbw Fast-Food Princess

Driving home at 10:00, my eyes ached I was so tired. I could have already been in bed, but I had chosen to work alone in the office. The work wasn't pressing, it just filled my time, and kept my mind busy.

Even now, with exhaustion beating my body down, I knew sleep was a long ways off. My mind was showing a highlight film. The same one it had been showing every day for the past two weeks, since Andrea had moved out.

Andrea and I had been married over 15 years. Passionate moments had been few and far between. The lack of intimacy had really hurt, but unfortunately I had gotten used to it.

I flirted on line a bit when I was really down, but for the most part I had worked my ass off to be her loyal "friend." Then, two weeks ago, Andrea came home from work. She was relaxed, friendly, and nervous.

Holding my hand, my beautiful, blonde wife bared her soul. "I'm a lesbian," she said slowly, and then added, "I think I always have been." It's cliché, but my chest literally ached, and I struggled for breath. "I can't do this to you anymore," she went on.

Then she informed me that she and her work friend Megan had been intimate for the past year. She continued talking, but the sound went off.

All I could see were images of my pretty, 35 year old wife, spreading her slender, creamy thighs, for Megan. Megan, over 50, grey, butch cut, non-descript body, was giving Andrea pleasure I had never been able to.

Andrea's embrace brought me back to the present. Her soft, chestnut tresses brushed my face, and her tears rolled along my neck. I couldn't hate this woman. Shit, I couldn't even hate Megan, who had always been so kind to me. The misery came from the impending sense of loneliness, and the all consuming conviction of failure.

Yes, logically I knew it wasn't my fault. That didn't matter, I felt failure.

Now, with the slide show of memories, and good byes, being shown again on the screen of my mind, I felt the loneliness. Forestalling the inevitable, I did not drive home. Instead, I got on the freeway and headed for my favorite fast food place, Vince's.

I only allowed myself this type of comfort food once in a while. I really needed it now. As I got ready to order, I justified the splurge my recounting to myself how good I had been about exercise.

The sexy, deep throated, "May I help you?" gave me a slight pause (the thought of a sexy woman knowing I was about make a pig of myself stung), but I plowed ahead.

"Yes, I'll have a double cheeseburger, large onion rings, and an extra large chocolate shake. Sighing, and for good measure, I threw in, "I swear I don't eat this way every night."

This was met with a throaty chuckle, and a simple, "OK, that will be $9.53 at the window, sir."

I pulled up to the empty window bay, but all I could see across the kitchen was an enormous, round ass sticking up in the air. The black polyester pants containing the ass looked like it was due to blow.

I then noticed that the white uniform top had pulled free from her pants. Transfixed, I also saw that leopard print panties peaked above the pants.

She had a beautiful white back, with a tattoo of a blue and green Japanese dragon. The dragon's tail directed my eyes to her leopard panties which held forbidden worlds of pleasure.

As the young girl turned to reach for a bag under the counter, her top slid up even higher. Her large stomach jiggled as she worked.

Determined not to appear the pervert I felt like at that moment, I forced my eyes away. Then I saw her face, and I was mesmerized. Freckled and sweaty, her skin had strands of bright red hair plastered to her cheeks. Sweat dripped from her nose.

There wasn't another employee in sight, and she was really busting her ass. I was impressed by her hard work, but felt sorry for myself. Here I was, aroused and on my way home to an empty house.

All of a sudden, that lovely, sweaty face was smiling at me. "Brianna," her name tag said. I took in her precious smile, and the luscious mouth. She had a ring in her lower lip.

I realized I had seen this beautiful woman before. As I continued to admire her pierced nose, eyebrows, and ears, I realized I was supposed to be responding to something she had said.

"What was that?" I asked lamely.

"I said," she repeated in mock exasperation, "that I seem to be the lucky one who gets to fulfill this late night fetish of yours, sir."

I remembered her, now, but something was different. Yes, she had filled this same order a few weeks back, but she looked different tonight.

"Uh ..." I began, and she cut me off, "Yeah, the hardware is new, so is my hair color, and ..." She blushed, cutting herself off short. Embarrassed, she rattled on, "Obviously, I eat this way more than you do," and she turned away.

Way to eagerly, I blurted, "You look great!"

Brianna turned and winked, but I still felt like a creep. A disturbance at the counter ended the awkward pause.

A drunken teen, eating inside the restaurant, had swaggered to the counter and barked, "Hey lard ass, how about a re-fill?"

Immediately I saw red. It had little to do with my new found arousal. I just hate bullies. I always have.

"Hey shit head," I calmly responded, "Why don't you rephrase that?"

This started a war of words, and I started to get out of my car. Thankfully one of his friends pulled him from the counter and told him he was an ass.

Brianna was totally at ease, laughing. "I can take care of myself, but thanks," she said.

Her eyes twinkled as we both laughed.

I turned to drive away, but not before catching a glimpse of glistening skin, and the beginning of deep cleavage disappearing into the top opening of her blouse.

As I placed the car in gear, I could feel the loneliness return.

"Sir, sir?" I turned and saw her nervous grin return the smattering of freckles on her nose, now more pronounced.

"Yes?," I hesitantly reciprocated.

"Did you like looking at my new dragon tattoo?"

I had been caught ogling her. I couldn't speak.

She went on, "I saw you in the reflection of the iced tea pot when my back was turned." She winked again. "Come back anytime. I'll be here until 2 this morning, by the way."

After driving home, I ignored the bag of food. I went inside and just sat on the big leather couch in my living room. There was no doubt I wanted to back to Vince's.

I was almost 40 and she couldn't have been 25, but that wasn't the problem. I also wasn't bothered by the fact that I was a clean cut, slender runner, and that she was a full figured, tattooed goddess. "alternative type. All of this just made me hot.

My problem lay in believing she had really been flirting with me. Self doubt pummeled me. Why would she want me?

My desire won. At about 12:30, I finally got up from the couch, and drove back to Vince's.

The dining room was closed, but there were a few cars in the drive through lane. I pulled up and ordered a diet coke.

The intercom crackled to life, and I was rebuked with, "Oh yeah, like that will make up for all that shit you ingested a few hours ago!" The same, deep, melodious laughter followed, and I drove around.

This time Brianna was waiting at the window for me, bent forward, hands on the counter. She nervously nibbled her pierced lip, cocked an eyebrow and queried, "Well?"

My response was rapid, "I couldn't eat that shit after seeing you. I want to get to know you. If I wait in the parking lot, may I see you tonight when you get off?"

"No," she replied simply and stared at me. "That's creepy, she continued. "How about this. You give me your address and make yourself vulnerable. I'll come by when I'm done here. OK?"

Of course it was OK. I gave her my address and directions, went home, and paced the house like a mad man.

At 2:34 exactly, I heard the rattling of an aging 4 cylinder car pull up. Headlights illuminated the front living room, then it was quiet and dark until a knock on my front door.

I opened the door, and before me was Brianna, hair loose around her neck and shoulders. Her blouse was still un-tucked, and now a few more buttons were undone. I could see quite a bit more of her soft, massive breasts.

I stepped aside, and asked Brianna in. The smell of french fries followed her. I watched her ass sway confidently from side to side, and I followed her into the kitchen.

We sat at the bar sipping diet cokes, sharing stories, laughter and some sexy repartee.

I learned that she loved rockabilly, wanted to be a teacher, and was currently in her third year of college. She had a 3.8 GPA, even though she worked over 40 hours a week and carried 15 units.

Her father died years ago, but she was close with her mom, even though she now lived 500 miles from home.

I told her about my nice, lesbian ex-wife, and she laughed sympathetically at all the right points of my sorrowful tail.

At about 6, I noted the time and made noise about how sorry I was to keep her up so late. I love to flirt, but I need a woman to get things going. Brianna did this, showing herself to be nice, but also a bit kinky and demanding.

Staring me down, she emphatically stated, "You and I are just getting started."

With that she grabbed my hand and led me to the couch, where she pushed me down to a sitting position. Standing, and facing me, Brianna unbuttoned her damp top and dropped it to the floor.

Straining, sagging breasts held together by a leopard print bra grabbed my attention. Then again, so did her creamy, white tummy. She was very comfortable with her beautiful, big body. Her left hand slowly caressed her round belly.

Brianna's right hand unbuttoned her work pants, which she quickly shimmied out of. Another dragon, this one red, slithered up her left leg. Its head rested on her left loin, tongue flicking up at the the panties was now removing.

Once the panties were off, the dragon and I were rewarded with a nice, full, brown bush. I begged her to stop and let me admire her.

Smiling Brianna lifted her arms above her head, closed her eyes, and slowly rotated for me. Effortlessly, she lowered one arm and removed her bra.

Thick white thighs and ass, lovingly embraced by tattooed serpents, were complimented by tufts of brown hair under her arms, and between her legs. Her dyed red hair-do, served as a perfect foil to the natural colors below.

Long fingernails painted green, matched her green toe nails. Silver jewelry adorned her ears, lower lip, nose and tongue. Her tits, were hard and not pierced.

I asked, "Why me? Why do you want me?"

She laughed that sonorous, intoxicating laugh, and replied, "You really don't know?"

As I shook my head, she locked her green eyes on mine and, full of emotion and trembling, told me, "For me to be interested in a man, I must be convinced he is kind, and ..."

"And?" I prompted.

"Well," she giggled, "He needs to invade my fantasy life."

She went on, "You are tall, cute, and I love your tight, little ass. More importantly, you are such a gentleman. Tonight, when you told that punk off. Well, my panties were damp when you left."

Then she laughed and pulled me off the couch. I landed on the floor. Before I could get up, Brianna's legs straddled me, and ample folds of hair covered flesh surrounded my mouth.

I began to kiss each lip, tasting the distinctive tang of my working woman's pussy. I was intoxicated, like a teenager upon his first kiss. I lapped and licked. Wide strokes, and precise probes with my hungry tongue.

Brianna began thrusting her pelvis down on me, banging my lips, nose and jaw. She even began shouting at me, "Eat my pussy, and get your hands on my tits!"

I complied, but then she rolled over, grabbed my dick, and demanded that I kiss her.

Our lips approached, nibbled and then our tongues swirled and danced. I shared the taste of her pussy with her.

"Oh, I taste so fucking good, don't I?" she gasped.

I giggled and couldn't help but agree. There wasn't much time for talk, though.

Brianna was initially content to finger herself, and let me tease her tits and kiss her mouth. Soon, though, we both needed more.

"Fuck me," she breathed, and I grabbed her boobs, while lying atop her.

I slid my cock between her fingers as they guided me into her warm, clenching hole. The fucking was intense. Brianna almost bucked me off, but I held on and plunged in repeatedly.

Faster and harder, encouraged by the clawing nails on my back, the bites on my back and shoulders.

She began to talk again, and lectured me like a school boy. She told me that, among other things, I was now "her bitch," and she was my "princess."

The bucking grew harder, then rhythmic. I realized Brianna had come, but she very sweetly took a long finger nail and scratched it along my asshole, working me into a frenzy.

Her other hand kneaded my ass, and she whispered, "Sweetie, you are so fucking hot," which released the cum in me. I shot it into her womb and collapsed atop her giant sweaty breasts, a heaving mass.

Then she flipped me on my side, spooned me, and muttered, you're mine now. I was more than happy to agree. We fell asleep, both sensing we had found our way home at last.