Rosaline expected to tense up when she heard that door shut behind her. That very doorway that she had been trapped in mere moments ago had become a barrier separating her and Max from the rest of the world. It was intimacy and privacy with a boy in her room... why shouldn't she be anxious?! Isolation with someone that desired you -- that was one thing. Sex, that was one thing too. But the crux of it all, the reason she expected nerves -- no, fear -- was the novelty. Rosaline had had sex before, even recently with Titus. She'd been invited to parties, welcomed into houses after dates, but bringing a boy to HER home? Feeling the heat of another where SHE slept? It was a first.
Rosaline just kept on surprising herself. When that door swung shut, she didn't feel apprehensive at all - she felt relaxed. At ease. As if some binding had just melted. She sighed, allowing those residual pulses of her orgasm to wash over her and listening to Max's light footsteps on her dingy tile floor. She could only imagine the sight he beheld as he approached. Sprawled out half on, half off her little twin bed, she was bound to be obscured behind hips like a warship, thighs like earthquakes, a butt like Jupiter. Any other day, any other moment envisioning herself from this angle would mortify her. This moment instead saw her lightly shift her rear's weight from side to side. One could only wonder if she was even aware of the motion, but its effect was undeniable -- a slow, continental shift back and forth, the highest portion of both cheeks just barely undulating underneath her leggings, the furthest protrusions of her fatty legs spreading across the mattress. It did not offer ownership. It did not ask the little man approaching if he "liked what he saw." It said "Here I am." It said, "Do with me what you will." It said, "I expect great things." Rosaline sighed again, and her ass, big enough to snatch the attention of an entire campus, more than eight feet in circumference, seemed to sigh with her.
She heard Max swallow, his eyes no doubt tracking her throne's motion. The sounds of his advance were slight, timid, as if he feared the thing reaching backward and devouring him. It was all becoming real, now. The two of them were locked together in this moment and wanted to be. Nothing but his own cowardice could possibly stop him now.
The Queen of Ass heavily shuddered before him before her legs splayed wide without warning. Her feet had slid out from beneath her, mighty quaking cheeks collapsing onto the boxspring mattress with the creak of an animal that was no stranger to their punishment. From somewhere behind her tonnage, Max heard Rosaline giggling between little exhales. A single word escaped her lips: "H-heavy..." Another glance over a narrow shoulder, and she noted with some disappointment that most of her room was obscured behind a view of pale, undulating assmeat. No way to see him... only her. She prickled with embarrassment at the thought, but his mind was a million miles away. He fought through his nerves to gently lay both hands on the titanic cheeks before him. The feeling of goosebumps rising in droves on her enormity was heavenly. Rosaline inhaled sharply at his touch but said nothing.
"Rosaline..." Max wasn't able to hold his voice steady. "I... I don't know where to start."
"O-oh." She went silent for a few seconds, her face a raging red. And that roiling in her chest... was that a little indignation? She wasn't sure, though it paired deliciously with the wanting gnaw in her stomach. A remark about her size should have been all she needed to shut this indulgence down, but there was something about what he said... or maybe the way he said it, she had no idea... but the unmistakable wetness between her gargantuan thighs had unmistakably grown more intense. Her mind scrambled for a way to respond. Her mind wanted to pry, demand him to explain exactly what he had meant, but her body... her stupid, overstuffed, cartoonish body... it wasn't interested in discovering what it already knew.
"And I know," she thought. She once again looked back at her mountainous derriere. Rosaline was motionless beneath it save some heavy breathing, and yet still it swayed weightily to the left and right above her hips. It shook in slow motion with no discernable rhythm. Whether its movement was due to her fall onto the mattress or some other unseen force, she truly couldn't say. "My butt, the perpetual motion machine." A bemused smile touched her lips. Somewhere back there, a skinny young man held two timid hands atop her twins, those colossal asscheeks that had just preventer her entry. A butt so large, Rosaline would still be hopelessly stuck without him. The thing may have been obscuring him, but she still felt those little hands... those tiny puffs of air that must have been his breathing. So rapid, so shallow... and... was that a tremble between his fingers?
"He's... scared." she admitted. "Or at least intimidated." She certainly couldn't fault him for that. She'd seen her rear view plenty of times, in plenty of mirrors, and it still had the power to drop even her jaw. That angle could be... a lot to take in. From where he was sitting, Max wouldn't feel he was approaching a woman -- no, the woman was hidden beneath veritable globes of ass, each probably as big as he was, wobbling and shimmying as if to reach out to him. She could understand, seeing all she had and experiencing fear. She could understand it the BEST. With that, Max's tentativeness ceased entirely to be embarrassing. Instead, it was actually a little endearing. Rosaline felt her shoulders lose some of their tension, and she breathed deeply. "That's... okay. Are you okay b... back there? I can't really see..."
A loooong exhale tickled her from behind. She covered her mouth, fearful of the consequences should she let a giggle slip out. "I'm alright, sure. Just... taking you in."
Oh, now she was something to 'take in?' That confusing feeling, that sensation of amazement at her form came rushing back in spades. She wanted so badly to tell him she wasn't a thing to be gawked at, and yet...
"I... don't mind. Take me in all you want." Oh, oof. She covered her face, for once grateful for her rear shielding. Where had THAT little remark of hers come from? Nevertheless... she felt him, heard him come closer. She shivered at the sensation of his body heat through her leggings. His hands left her mass and began to toy with her battered waistband.
"I just... I want to be enough..."
"Where do you want to start?"
"I don't know." He laughed like someone was squeezing his lungs. "I really don't know."
She envisioned him back there, a sailor left to navigate her immensity without a hope, horrified by the idea of drowning in her never-ending softness. It inspired the oddest concoction of emotions. Perhaps that's why she found it in herself to reply with a lazy shimmy of her hips, saying "Yes, you do, Max."
She felt his grip on her waistband tighten, and then he was pulling against the leggings. Cool air flowed freely on just a fraction of exposed skin. There was one forceful pull, then two -- then, with the snap of a few threads, her leggings flew cleanly off her lower body. Rosaline couldn't contain a little gasp. She'd honestly expected more of a fight. It was difficult to resist the urge to complain about the undeniable stretching of one of her four usable pairs of pants, but it was even more difficult to resist enjoying the cool air connecting with her mighty backside. Whether the resulting shiver was due to the cold or the anticipation was anyone's guess.
"And... here I am." She giggled a little imagining his reaction. Though she still wore a pair of black high-rise panties, they had inevitably been pulled, stretched, abused, and contorted into a thong-sized bunch of fabric that served to conceal only her asshole. Her monumental cheekage was on full display -- a fact she was well aware of. Rosaline allowed her giggles to grow loud enough for Max to hear and shimmied her doorjamming hips back and forth. A series of gentle wobbles ensued, and then after a moment...
