This story features a thick and chubby woman, reluctantly giving in to a breeding kink, and WMLF romance. If these aren't your thing, don't say I didn't warn you.
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The classroom felt like a sauna in the late afternoon summer. Sunlight blasted through the blinds and the rattling fan in the corner did nothing to cut the sticky, simmering heat.
Just two weeks past her eighteenth birthday, Maria Santos slumped at her desk, the wooden chair creaking beneath her as her lush, heavy hips spread against the seat. They were wide and soft, the kind her tías whispered were hecho para familia. The June heat had turned her caramel skin dewy, glazing her shoulders and collarbone in a golden sheen that glinted as it caught the sunlight filtering through the blinds. Her faded black Star Wars tank top, stretched thin from years of wear, clung desperately to her curves: the fabric suctioned to the full, weighty swell of her breasts. Like ripe melons straining against the faded graphic of Darth Vader's mask, bulging it into the shape of a cartoon character with a head swollen up and about to explode. Each frustrated sigh made them rise and fall, jiggling slightly, her damp neckline dipping to reveal a peek of sweat-glazed cleavage, the cool silver pendant of La Virgen pressed between the squished-together flesh melons.
Her thick, slightly wavy, cinnamon-dark hair was piled into a messy knot secured by a scrunchie, with a few loose strands of dark hair cascading out to frame her face, gently swaying with each huffed exhale of pout. Beneath the desk, her bare thighs, soft and dimpled, stuck to the plastic seat, her cutoff faded-denim shorts digging into the pillowy flesh of her hips. She shifted and the hem rode up, exposing the red marks the shorts left on her waist, the curve of her belly folding slightly as she hunched over the textbook. Her plush and inviting arms, the kind her mami called brazos de abrazo fuerte, glistened as she erased another mistake. The pencil smudged alongside the sweat on her fingertips as she ground the pink nub into the paper, huffing with annoyance.
The classroom fan sputtered slowly, uselessly, as a bead of sweat slid down the back of her neck to trace the slope of her spine before disappearing beneath the waistband of shorts stretched wide by the splayed curves of her bubble butt. Even the way she chewed her lip was a distraction: lush and pouty, glossy with the cherry Labello she kept in her backpack. When she leaned forward, the desk's edge dug into the softness beneath her breasts, the cheap particle board groaning to accommodate the weight of their fullness. The textbook's pages stuck to her forearms as she muttered curses under her breath.
She groaned, tugging at the hem of her cutoff shorts where they bit into her thick thighs. Two days until finals, and Mr. Huck's limits unit was gonna wreck her GPA.
"Ay dios mio."
That voice. Not a Spanish accent, but a white boy intonation, with a hint of SoCal surfer drawl. Deep, teasing, with a rasp that made her stomach tighten.
"You look like you're fighting the textbook."
She didn't need to turn to know it was him.
Jake Whitaker. The oldest, tallest, and hottest guy in the class. Football star. Cocky asshole.
The sweat-soaked practice jerseys clinging to his bulging linebacker shoulders made girls stop and stare every time he strutted down a hallway. Rumor was he'd gotten a tattoo over spring break, a serpent coiled around his bicep.
She'd known him since first grade. They'd grown up together on the same street.
Pendejo precioso.
Maria glanced up. He stood in the doorway, a white tank top showing off his tanned, muscular arms. His jaw was dusted with scruff, and his gym shorts hung low on his hips, revealing a trail of dark blond hair leading south. She forced her eyes back to his face, cheeks burning.
"What, you hiding from Coach again?" she snapped in a thick Mexican accent, tapping her chipped red nail polish on the desk.
Her mami's medallion, La Virgen de Guadalupe, swung as she leaned back, drawing his gaze to her cleavage. A trail of sweat dribbled down from her glistening neck to nestle gently between the soft orbs.
He smirked, striding over. The scent of his cologne mixed with sweat hit her first, then the warmth of his body as he dropped into the seat beside her.
"Nah. Saw you through the classroom window. Figured you could use help before you set the book on fire."
She rolled her eyes but didn't stop him when he pulled her notebook closer. His forearm flexed as he scribbled numbers, the snake tattoo peeking out from his sleeve. She tried not to stare at the way his thighs spread, taking up space, or the sweat dripping down his neck. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. So confident. So masculine.
Her pussy clenched involuntarily, a trail of wetness drooling from the plump lips.
"You're overcomplicating it," he said, voice low. His knee bumped hers under the desk. "Just plug in the function here. Fácil."
She raised a brow. "Since when do you speak Spanish?"
He grinned. "Took AP Spanish to piss off my dad. Plus I pay attention when you're yelling at your phone."
Maria snorted. Her mami had called twice during study hall, screaming loud enough for the whole room to hear.
Jake's hand brushed hers as he flipped the page. "Here. This problem's about asymptotes. Imagine it's like... getting close but never touching." His voice dropped, and his thumb grazed her wrist. A surge of adrenaline, and her heart fluttered.
Maria suddenly became sharply aware that everyone else had left study hall and it was just her and this hunk jock leaning over her, all alone.
The air got thicker. Maria's nipples pebbled under her thin top. She shifted, her sandal slipping off her heel. His eyes flicked to her bare foot, her pink-painted toes, then back up.
"You good?" he muttered.
"Sí," she lied, voice shaky.
The janitor's cart clattered in the hall.
"Too loud in here. Wanna bail? Study together at my place?" he asked suddenly, a gleam in his eye.
Maria bit her lip. Uh oh. What was this boy trying to pull? Her mami would kill her if she flunked calculus...
But...
Fuck... Jake's thigh was full against hers now. His heat pressed against her skin. His sweat. It was melting her resolve.
"You sure your dad's okay with you bringing a thick Latina home?" she purred, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed. "Yeah, no worries. My parents are gone 'til late tonight. So how 'bout it?"
She nodded and he grinned as he stood. She grabbed her bag, hips swaying as she led him out. The hallway echoed with their laughter, her gold hoop earrings catching the light.
Outside, the sun blazed. Maria pretended not to notice Jake staring at her lips.
"Still don't get it," she lied, nodding at her textbook.
He grinned. "All good. I can help when we get to my place. AC's busted, though."
"Qué calor," she fake-whined, fanning herself.
His grin widened. "We'll sweat it out."
