Chapter 1: Veronica
I love big women. Let me correct that, I love women, but especially big women. I don't know exactly when my love for larger lovely ladies started, but I can more or less trace the development of that preference. I remember that as a boy I was interested in thin and average size girls, but by the time I entered high school I was almost exclusively dating larger girls. A pretty face was still important, but girls with big butts and big tits received the most attention from me. I became known for dating the chubby cheerleader type--pretty, popular, athletic girls who carried a few extra pounds and carried it very well. None of my friends understood this preference, and I am not sure that I did either.
My college years were a smorgasbord of sexual experimentation. I dated girls of all colors, shapes and sizes. (Dating is a euphemism, of course, for all sorts of relationships, from serious near-monogamy to one night stands, and everything in between). I don't specifically recall any skinny girls making it to my bedroom, but in that smoky haze and alcohol-soaked environment I cannot rule it out either. But by the time I graduated from college I knew what kind of women I preferred: Dark-haired women of any race with big tits, fat asses, meaty thighs, and some padding around the middle. I was a firm believer in the saying, "more cushion for the pushin'."
Over the next four years I indulged my sexual appetites with a steady stream of voluptuous women. Sometimes for only one night, sometimes for a week or even for a few months. I pursued bosomy, big butt women with ample thighs and soft bellies. My address book contained no hard bodies, no bikini models, no women who shopped in the juniors department. I knew what I liked, and I indulged myself with abandon.
I was in my late 20s when I met Maria. She is a Mexican BBW, with long black wavy hair, a 38D chest, an ample backside, and thick delicious thighs. She was a virgin when we met, but eager to change her status. We spent the night together on our second date, and a year later we were engaged. We married, moved away, started our careers, and started a family.
Now, at this point I have to candidly admit that I have struggled with monogamy throughout our marriage. I do not actively seek out women, but I find myself unable to resist when I am pursed by a gorgeous BBW, especially if she is latin, african-american, or just has dark hair and a pretty face. I have succumbed to temptation more than once during my marriage, even though I try to stay faithful.
As our careers flourished and our family grew, it became necessary to look for a new home. We found exactly what we were looking for in a new development located only one mile from our old home. We moved into our dream home 4 years ago, right at the peak of the real estate bubble. Since we were so close to our old neighborhood, I maintained most of my old friendships and made new friends only with the neighbors closest to our new house. Maria is much more social than I am, however, and within 12 months had befriended almost every woman in the nearly 100 home development.
Maria's closest friend in our new neighborhood became a young Latin woman named Veronica. This friendship was unusual for several reasons. Veronica lives six blocks from us, on the last street in this development. That was not the strange part, however. Veronica is only 27 years of age, nearly 20 years younger than Maria. Veronica is also divorced, having been married for a few months shortly after she graduated from high school. Almost all of our friends are married. In fact, most of our friends are married couples around our age. It is not that we discriminate against singles, it is just that we are at a stage of our lives where most of our entertaining involves other couples and their families. Finally, in the three years that Maria and Veronica have been close friends, I have never met Veronica. Most of the time Maria goes to Veronica's house, or the two of them meet somewhere. I know that Veronica has in fact been to the house, as all of our children know her, but she and I have never met.
That changed about six months ago. Veronica hosted a party for all the women in the neighborhood, and my wife was called upon to help with the hosting duties. The party was held on a Friday evening in the early spring. It was a pleasantly mild evening, so Maria walked over to the party in order to save the limited parking spaces for other guests. I remained at home, drinking scotch on the rocks and watching the NHL playoffs. The party was supposed to last until around 11 or 12, which meant that I would get to watch the entire game before Maria returned.
I was mildly surprised when the telephone rang at about 10:30. It was Maria, asking me to come and pick her up in a half hour. I did not notice, but an early spring shower had rolled in, and she did not want to walk home in the rain. I quickly grabbed my keys, jumped into the car, and drove over to Veronica's house. I had to park several doors down from the party, as the driveway and the street were filled with cars. As a consequence, I was soaked when I reached the front door.
I rang the doorbell and almost immediately a tall young woman with long, wavy black hair and wearing a sheer white robe answered the door.
"You must be Mike," she said, taking me by the hand and leading me into the house.
"Yes," I said, more than a little taken aback.
"I'm Veronica. Maria has told me so much about you. She must have called you to come and save her from a walk home in the rain?"
"Uh, yeah," I managed to stammer. I was not expecting to find myself facing a tall, gorgeous, lingerie-clad BBW. Veronica towered over me, standing at least six feet tall. She had a stunningly beautiful face and long dark curls of hair tumbling to the middle of her back. She was wearing a sheer, shimmering, silk robe that reached almost to the floor. Underneath the robe she was wearing a white baby doll nightie. I could not make out the details of her curves, but she was obviously a plus size woman. Looking down, I saw that she was wearing ridiculously high heels, or what I call "stripper shoes." That accounted for some of her height, but even without the shoes she was at least 5'9". I estimated her weight to be about 220 lbs, but I am really not very good at guessing a woman's weight.
"Let me put you in this room. I don't want the other girls to know that you are here, or they might become intimidated. It took us a few hours to rid the ladies of all their inhibitions. If the girls see you, some of them may get shy again."
She led me by the hand to a bedroom in the front of the house, far from the party taking place in the back area. I noticed a few other woman wearing lingerie, but no one seemed to notice me before I was whisked away from the guests.
"Have a seat in here. Maria is helping me take orders, she will probably be busy for another 20-30 minutes. Can I get you something to drink? "
"Do you have any scotch?"
"No. Sorry"
"Red wine?"
"No."
"Beer?"
"Light beer."
"Ok, just bring me whatever you have."
Almost twenty minutes later she returned with my beer. This time she was wearing a red corset, matching red panties, black fishnet stockings, and those same stripper shoes. I could make out her curves much more clearly now. She was definitely a BBW, but she did not have precisely the body shape that I find so irresistible. She had creamy smooth caramel colored skin, rather broad shoulders, and nice but not huge boobs that the corset was doing its best to push up and out. Her waistline was almost straight down from her shoulders with no discernible taper, her tummy bulged imperceptibly, and her hips flared only slightly. Her butt, though wide, was a little flatter than I liked. But she had gorgeous, sexy legs extending from the bottom of the corset, and very attractive feet. I am not a foot person, but I can admire a pair of sexy feet, and she definitely had such a pair.
"I'll bet you thought I forgot about you," she said, handing me a slightly warm beer. "Sorry, I had to change again and make another pass down the runway."
My curiosity overwhelmed me. "What kind of party is this?"
"Maria didn't tell you? I'm hosting a lingerie and toy party with my girlfriend, Keshia. She is a lingerie salesman. Woman. Saleswoman. You know what I mean."
"So the women out there are all trying on lingerie?"
"Not exactly. Myself and five other girls are modeling various outfits. But that's not the best part. We are also trying out some of the sex toys that Keshia sells. And the lubes, lotions and jellies. I 'm sure that you would love to watch, naughty boy, but the girls were promised that there would be no men present. Some would start leaving if they even knew that you were here. That's why I met you at the door and hurried you into this room right away. But if you are a good boy, maybe Maria will come back here and give you a private demonstration."
I licked my lips at the thought of Maria coming back here and giving me a quickie while her friends were outside the door partying. But I got even more of a rise when I thought of Veronica coming in here and demonstrating some of the merchandise for me. I have a particular fetish for watching women masturbate. My pants got a little tighter at the thought of this lingerie-clad vixen buzzing off for me with various new toys.
"Hold that thought. I'll be back to check on you soon. And under no circumstances are you to leave this room."
I found a remote control and turned on the TV. After finding the hockey game I adjusted the volume so that the TV could not be heard from outside the room. I also wanted to overhear anything interesting that might occur in the rest of the house.
I must have dozed off for a while, as the next thing I heard was the door opening and Veronica quickly closing it behind herself. This time she was wearing only a black shelf bra and a matching black thong. The bra held her tits high up on her chest, revealing her chocolate brown nipples and a mile of cleavage The thong revealed everything else, confirming my earlier appraisal of her wide but flat ass, and demonstrating how effectively the red corset she wore earlier had held in her soft tummy, which now-- free of restraint-- formed a muffin top bulging over her panty line. The saying "less is more" briefly entered my mind.
"I brought you a refill," she said, handing me another beer.
