This is the story of a middle-aged man named Bryant Rieves from Lubbock, Texas, best known as the hometown of music icons Buddy Holly and Bobby Keys.
The stereotype of Texans is that they like everything big.
Well, Bryant does like big, juicy and fast -- his steaks and his women.
He's a bit loose with money and his morals. The only things tight about him are his Wrangler jeans and his mind after a few shots of whiskey.
Bryant has had plenty of women in his 45 years. His steel gray-blue eyes, now salt and pepper hair but still boyish good looks, a lean but toned six-foot frame and smallish, round butt -- oh, that's another tight thing about him -- has netted him lots of ladies over the years... but he's never loved any of them.
His only true loves have been inanimate objects, specifically cars, more specifically golden era muscle cars.
His current amour is a 1972 Chevrolet Chevelle SS, two-tone gold and white.
His immediate previous love was a 1976 Ford Gran Torino, red with a white racing stripe, like the one made famous in the 1970s TV cop drama Starsky and Hutch.
Well, like the two young, cool detectives, Bryant liked to drive the Torino fast, naturally. One night he made it part of a tree. He survived but the car didn't.
Police found a half-flattened coyote at the scene so Bryant avoided any charges related to his driving.
Bryant is so enamored with his current love, the Chevelle, that his buddies have told him that they wouldn't be surprised if, sometimes late at night, missing his 'honey', that he gets out of bed, goes into the garage, opens the gas cap cover, removes the cap and sticks his eight-inch cock in the fuel neck opening.
Bryant would tell his friends (half-jokingly?) that the only thing stopping him from doing just that is a worry that his long and thick member might get stuck in that tight opening.
Wouldn't that make for an interesting call to 911!
911 Dispatcher: "911, what's your emergency - police, fire or ambulance?"
Bryant: "Uh, how about a urologist."
Dispatcher: "Excuse me"
Bryant: "Whoever can get here the fastest. My, uh, Johnson is stuck."
Dispatcher: "Where and how is Mr. Johnson stuck?"
Bryant: "Not Mr. Johnson, my Johnson. My thing, you know."
Dispatcher: "OOOOKAYYY. It's stuck in what?"
Bryant: "A car."
Dispatcher: "Come again."
Bryant: "That's what I'm trying to avoid. I don't want to damage the engine with a sticky foreign substance."
It's a whacked scenario that Bryant's buddies swear he'll be the first to accomplish.
He's put his generous Johnson in many women but his human love life has been pretty dry of late.
He hasn't had sex with a woman - his five latex dolls don't count -- in about a month.
That's called a drought in Texas.
It's called a disaster in Bryant's pants.
So when he ventured into the AAA Garage Guys outlet near his home, so his trusty mechanic Mike, nicknamed the Auto Doctor, could take a look to see what ailed his Chevelle, Bryant wasn't looking for or expecting to make a new female friend.
The first thing Bryant noticed when he approached the service desk was that his usual customer rep, pretty little Linda, the one he'd always wished would pay him a 'service' call, wasn't behind said desk.
The next thing he noticed was that the woman sitting in Linda's usual chair was someone named Arianna.
The next two things Bryant noticed were the ample breasts that were desperately trying to break free from Arianna's obviously too small white blouse.
Bryant's man hammer must have thought it was in the military because it immediately snapped to attention and saluted the new employee.
Bryant sat down in the chair in front of Arianna as quickly as he could to avoid embarrassment but she had caught a glimpse of his special greeting.
She smiled... ever so slightly.
Her sweater puppets must have noticed as well as two darts began protruding from her thin white top.
This, Bryant also noticed.
Bryant: "Hi there. You're not Linda."
Arianna: "Hello. No I'm not. I'm new."
Bryant: "Hi, New."
Arianna frowned at Bryant's attempt at humour.
Arianna: "My name is Arianna."
Bryant: "It's cold in here. Are you feeling a bit nipply? Did you say your name was Areola."
Bryant couldn't believe that he actually said all that. He was thinking it, yeah, but then he just blurted it out.
Bryant: "I'm so sorry. My mouth overrode my brain."
Arianna: "Is your name Dumb Ass? Maybe Jerko?"
Bryant: "I guess it should be. Those are my middle names. My first name is Bryant. Once again I apologize, Arianna."
Arianna: "How can I help you?"
His mouth almost did it again, wanting to say that she could let him lick her luscious boobs, but fortunately, for him, his brain, in his upper head, won the day... this time.
Bryant: "I'm here to have Mike look at my baby, my '72 Chevelle.
Arianna: "Is it the 454 Convertible 4-Speed? Does it have the Big Block V8?"
Bryant's eyes lit up and once again his friend south of the border snapped to attention. They thought this could be love at both first sight and first hearing.
Bryant: "It's a hardtop with a 350 V8," he stammered, still taken aback by Arianna's knowing and probing question. "350CI, 4WD, F150, if it comes with numbers and letters I'm usually a fan," he added.
Bryant told Arianna that he doesn't have just a favourite number. He said he is a fan of alphanumerics.
"Guess what my favourite alphanumeric is?" he asked her.
"I would have said 69 was your obvious favourite number but since you say it is something alphanumeric I'll guess 69UNI," she said.
Bryant laughed and was momentarily speechless.
"I wished I'd thought of that, but my favourite is actually 42DD."
Arianna rolled her eyes. She didn't let on that he had almost correctly guessed her bra size. She is actually a robust, shapely 42DDD.
"I imagine you look far and wide for that combination," Arianna told Bryant.
"Do you want to know my favourite number? It's actually alphanumeric as well," she noted.
Bryant's widened. "Please do tell."
"My favourite is 8EW as in 8 inches, extra wide."
A puzzled look came over Bryant's face but then its meaning hit him. Actually, it was his member down below that reacted to her answer giving Bryant an understanding of what she meant.
"If you'd like to meet your favourite alphanumeric in 'person', I can arrange it."
"I'll let Mike know you are here," Arianna said dryly.
She got up, turned and walked toward the service bay doors.
As Arianna made her way Bryant's eyes locked like a missile targeting system onto her backside. He was getting a more or less full view of her body now. She had an ample ass that was curvy yet, to him, proportional to the rest of her full-figured frame. Her cheeks slightly wiggled and shimmied, enough to hypnotize Bryant.
As much as he was a boob man, a connoisseur of hefty hooters, he was also a major ass man and a fan of the furry flipside as well.
Some might consider Arianna overweight but he could tell in her attitude and the way she carried herself that she didn't give a crap what people thought of her physique.
She was a confident, sexy woman and exuded those qualities. She carried it well and was freaking sexy.
That was what turned Bryant on. He had always had a thing for plumper, meatier women. "Just more to love and enjoy," he always thought.
There was no doubt in his mind Arianna was a classic BBW, Big Beautiful Woman. He imagined touching and probing every inch of her ample body especially her generous boobs and booty.
No part of her would escape his mouth, tongue or fingers.
Doctor Mike eventually emerged from the garage bay area and consulted with Bryant. Together they figured out what the problem was with the Chevelle and got her back on the road later that day.
Another repair that Bryant felt needed attending to was his initial disastrous contact with Arianna.
"Well, I'm outta here," he told Arianna after paying his bill.
"Would you like to... can I...," Bryant blustered only to be literally stopped by Arianna who picked up, and held in front of her, a sign that she keeps on her desk, a cutout of a stop sign.
She said nothing to Bryant, knowing what he was going to ask. She wasn't interested. She let the sign do her talking.
If Bryant was a dog, he would have had his tail tucked between his legs as he turned and walked meekly out of Garage Guys.
That night Bryant could not get Arianna out of his mind. Her buxom chest and full ass filled his thoughts. He was so wound up that he knew he had to rub one off if he was to get any sleep.
He lay down on his bed, pulled down his night shorts and started to rub his 8-inch sword through his briefs. Thoughts of Arianna grabbing his dick and stroking it, first gently and then faster and faster raced through his mind.
Bryant removed his underwear; his penis had been straining against the fabric, which was stained by a few drops of pre-cum.
The thick, veiny meat pole stood ram-rod straight, eight inches up in the air like a rocket ready for takeoff. The purplish bulbous head looked like a helmeted sentinel ready for action.
Bryant took the generously sized meat stick in his hand and started stroking imagining it was Arianna working a hand on his member pumping his piston faster and faster.
He quickened his pace and before long Bryant groaned and moaned as thick ropes of lily-white cum shot a foot into the air before landing on his abdomen.
He was satisfied but still wondered what it would feel like to be touched and blown by Arianna never mind to be able to part her sweet thighs and park his prick insides her steaming moistness.
A few weeks later Bryant needed to go back to the Garage Guys to pick up some cleaning products for the Chevelle's interior and exterior.
