"Big Tits, Big Dicks and Fantasy Fucking"
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"I don't mind that most people think I'm really obese," she murmured to me as she started to slide out of her muumuu. "But I want you to know the truth. I want you to know the real me. I hope you don't mind my little deception." She was grinning mischievously as she slid the muumuu over her head.
I had met her earlier in the evening at a bar. She was with some friends of mine. She had just moved to town and they were showing her some of the night spots.
'Chuckles' is a great little bar not too far from my apartment. And the bar tenders are all really stacked! Which I, for one, appreciate! Watching them bend down to get a glass or shaking a martini is a cheap thrill. And if I spend more time than I should dreaming about what could happen, well, there are worse ways to spend an evening.
I found out early that everyone of them is either married or in a committed relationship. Didn't matter too much to me. They were still eye candy. And they didn't mind the patron's leers. Though they were known for having anyone who was too persistent tossed out on their ass.
But I was a regular and I limited the flirting to a minimum.
So I was enjoying a Guinness when my friends showed up. I noticed her at once. She was a real cutie! Blonde hair pulled into a pair of pigtails. Minimal make up that made her look fresh off the farm. The biggest set of blue eyes you could ever find and a pair of lips with a natural Cupid's bow that just made me melt. But then it all fell apart.
From the shoulders down she was encased in a tent sized muumuu! And not for nothing, either. She was what generous folks would call "a big girl". She was almost my height, about 5'10" to my 6'2", in those sensible two inch heels she could almost look me in the eye.
So I was polite, but not really interested. We spoke to each other as the bar grew more and more crowded. We actually had a lot in common. And some things not. She was a Green Bay fan while I was a die-hard Eagles fan. So there was that to kid each other about. She was remarkably knowledgable about football for a girl. I know, I can't help it. I'm a little sexist that way.
So the evening passed. I occasionally ogled a fetching cleavage behind the bar. And in passing, I noticed a few nicely presented pairs among the patrons as well. Once I caught Ernestina smothering a smile when she saw my tongue hanging out as an impressive pair of Triple D's bounced by in a tight, low-cut sweater.
A little later Allison, one of the bartenders, motioned me to join her at the end of the bar.
"You should get to know that new girl," she told me. "We chatted in the Ladies Room. She told me that she likes you and I think you would like her too, if you got to know her better."
Allison was the queen bee bartender. She was the best looking. best built bartender at Chuckles. She had never, ever, said anything like that to me before. I looked at her with questions trembling on my lips.
"Just take my word for it," she confirmed with a nod and a wink. "You should really get to know her. Better."
"Sure, okay, thanks, Allison." I responded.
As it turned out I almost had no option than to get to know her better. It turned out that she lived in the same apartment building I did! A few floors lower than my apartment, but still... Coincidence? Perhaps not. Perhaps it was fate!
Anyway, about an hour later she announced that she had to get to bed and as she was saying her goodbyes she asked me to walk her home. "Just to feel safe," she said.
It wasn't that far to walk and I was about ready to call it a night anyway so I agreed and we struck out into the warm night. I caught a glimpse of Allison giving me a thumbs-up as we left.
We strolled toward out mutual destination. As we went Ernestina clutched herself to my arm. And once I put my arm around her to help her over a rough patch in the side walk but then she went back to holding my arm.
When we got there she invited me in for a night cap. I figured, what the hell, Allison had been direct. I was to get to know Ernestina better. So I agreed and I had settled on the couch while she grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. Not Guinness, but not some horrid 'lite' beer either.
It was as we were half way done that she turned to me.
"I don't mind that most people think I'm really obese," she murmured to me as she started to slide out of her muumuu. "But I want you to know the truth. I want you to know the real me. I hope you don't mind my little deception." She was grinning mischievously as she slid the muumuu over her head.
"I saw the way you were looking at some of the girls at the bar. Do you think I would catch your attention if I dressed like that?" she asked as the muumuu fell to her lap.
To paraphrase Clement Clarke Moore, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a gigantic bra that was barely containing two even more gigantic breasts! Ernestina was carrying more boob than any two or three of the bartenders at Chuckles! I mean, it wasn't even close! I'd never seen, never imagined, any woman could carry chest ornaments of her capacity! Let alone do it without giving it away! My GOD, she was big!
Ernestina was watching my reaction as I slowly started to come to grips with what I was staring at.
"I know you like big tits," she announced. "Allison and I spoke in the ladies room. I asked her about you. She told me you were a great guy, that you liked well built women. She just said you were a little shy. So I decided to take things into my own hands. So to speak." As she spoke she slid her hands under that overburdened bra and lifted up. It took some effort but she managed to push the upper slopes of her tits to be even with her shoulders.