I have a thing for big bodied women with tiny breasts; that incongruity never fails to turn me on, especially if a pretty face comes with it. It all started, when I went out into the yard just at the break of dawn one morning and saw one of my new neighbors who had moved in next door only the day before, step out her back door, walk around to the side of the house, lean over and place a small garbage bag on the ground, spending a few seconds to properly knot it. My sleepy eyes popped open at the bent over luscious sight and I found my body responding in a way that was soon to become familiar as the weeks went by.
I'm certain she wasn't expecting anyone out and about at that early hour and was clearly startled out of her skin, or should I say out of her tiny, white vest, which is what she happened to be wearing, when she straightened up and saw me standing just a few feet away, looking at her. She jumped back so hard she almost fell over backwards, barely managing to steady herself. I felt instantly guilty and stepped forward to offer an apology over the fence. She put a hand to her chest, gave two or three hard breaths and then threw me an embarrassed half-smile that wriggled its way into my heart, and other body parts, as her juicy body shook under the pressure of a suppressed giggle.
As If pushed to talk, I stammered, "I'm sorry I startled you mam, I ... I didn't expect to meet anyone out this early ... and ... and this house has been empty for nearly a year. I ... left home early yesterday morning for classes. I ... attend university. I'm doing computer science. And I came home late last night after visiting my grandmother... I didn't even notice we had new neighbors."
That was more than a mouthful coming from me; back then you couldn't get me to say a dozen words to a stranger, especially a pretty woman. I was the definition of introvert and was shy to the bone, more so because of the permanent spread of pimples on my face which had been bothering me since I'd turned thirteen so I was surprised by the easy, though halting way I'd prattled off to this total stranger, surrendering without even being asked, info on myself and details of how I'd spent the day before.
Nevertheless, I felt the nervousness in my voice and body and the madly pumping heart as my eyes took in the vital statistics walking toward me. She seemed to be somewhere around two hundred, two hundred and ten pounds of big, solid ass, big, shapely thighs and legs, wide hips and high, pointed tiny tits which could be nothing more than A cup size, on a five foot nine or ten frame. I fell in love with those little pears right there and then. Some would call her fat or plump, others thick, chubby or chunky. Whichever, to me she was stunningly delicious. It felt like my afro hairdo was uncoiling into tingling spikes as she drew close.
If her breasts had been anywhere near huge or even of an average size they would have been all over the place through the wide arm holes of the vest. But being what they were, the tiny babies were completely covered; there was just a hint of them poking against the close-fitting soft cotton, standing straight out like two little ice-cream cones. I couldn't say the same for the rest of her because as she walked toward me I could clearly see her plump crotch barely covered in blue lace, fixed like a monument between thick thighs. I already knew that if she were to turn around I'd see a lot of ass cheeks hanging low. The plump mound was a joy to my hungry, virgin eyes.
She was of Portuguese descent with possibly just a drip of black blood, evident mostly in her long coarse-grained, shiny black hair that hung untidily down her cheeks to below her shoulders. In this country, a former Dutch/British slave colony, Portuguese are classified as a race separate from whites, probably because they came here as indentured labour after slavery and were not accepted as part of the European community. Her round face was nicely dimpled in both cheeks and her little nose was slightly upturned above fairly full lips on a small mouth. Her eyes were a bewitching, jolly looking and soft grey. She seemed to be in her mid-thirties.
"I didn't expect anyone either, we moved in yesterday around mid-morning and spent the rest of the day fixing up furniture and putting away stuff. We were so tired by nightfall that we all went to bed early, so you wouldn't have seen any lights when you came home," she explained.
She looked down the front of her body in an apologetic manner as she raised an outstretched hand over the fence. My eyes followed hers down the front of her body but didn't follow them back up and I only snapped out of my dazed admiration when I heard her say.
"I'm Naomi Waite. It's me, my husband Dennis, my mother-in-law Delores and my sister-in-law Shelly and her infant son Michael. We bought this property, so I guess you and I are going to be neighbors until death, marriage, migration or whatever do us part," she said laughing.
I shook the soft, warm, outstretched hand and as it clasped mine I felt a movement and pressure down below and realized I was fetching a hard-on. I did a quick downward glance and saw that my cock was tenting my pajamas. I could feel the blush in my light to mid-brown, pimply face, but she didn't appear to notice my hurried look down south. Falling quickly back into my usual, socially awkward self, I neglected to return info about the make-up of my family as she had done. I reluctantly released the soft hand but stored the sweet feel of it in my head.
"I have to go prepare for work. Say hi to your folks for me," she said pleasantly.
As she turned to walk away she quickly looked down below my waist and I thought that maybe she had seen me look there, but just as she had managed to do I gave no indication that I'd noticed her straying eyes. I stood rooted to the ground watching the vanilla sweetness retreat. Her fat ass cheeks, with much of the blue lace buried in their cleft, bounced delightfully with every step, the dimples looking like they were winking at me. I had to give it to her, she was bold. After the initial shock upon noticing my presence in the yard she had quickly recovered into calm acceptance of the situation - no sign of being particularly disturbed by the amount of juicy flesh she had on display.
When she entered the house and turned to close the door she saw me still standing there looking at her. She flashed me, what I interpreted as a knowing or understanding smile. And then she did a most unexpected thing, something one would only expect from someone one was familiar with. Still smiling she raised an index finger and pointed at my back door as if telling me to go and do what I had to do instead of standing there looking at her. She stood staring at me and it was only after I turned away that I heard her close the door.
From that day onward once Naomi and I were both at home which was mostly on weekends or briefly during the mornings or some evenings, my doting eyes tracked her every movement about the yard or indoors through an open door or window. I just couldn't get enough of her. My actions got so obvious that even my little sisters teased me and from the way my mom looked at me a couple of times I suspected she was aware of the attention I was paying to Mrs. Waite. I never saw her again in the little white vest but she did wear a lot of tight shorts, short dresses, little tank and tube tops about the yard. A couple of mornings I got brief glimpses of her in sheer nighties.
As the weeks went by I became increasingly bolder in the way I looked at her, though we rarely talked, and sometimes when she caught me she would stick her neck forward and open her grey eyes wide like a playful little girl and hold my gaze in a challenging way for a few seconds before looking away with a little smile. A couple of times she even mouthed the word 'what!'
One day, nearly two months into our little eye games, while she was in her kitchen with the door open, she stuck out her tongue at me and flicked it from side to side seductively. I got to thinking that there was something freaky and strange in Naomi's behaviour, it somehow didn't match her married status and the prim and proper way she dressed for work, but I didn't care, she was so fucking sexy, and that was all my mind dwelt on.
The next morning while I was picking grass seeds for my pet birds from a patch on the ground beside the fence, she strolled by with some stuff in her hand intended for the garbage bin at the front of the yard. With just a brief glance in my direction and just before walking past me I heard her whisper.
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Eighteen years three months," I blurted out quickly.
I started to stand up but she just kept on walking, not missing a step and not looking back. Anyone observing would have thought we'd just exchanged 'good-mornings'. I was still there gathering seeds when she passed back after disposing of the garbage.
"You're younger than I thought, I could be your mother," She whispered.
"I wish you were," was my surprisingly spontaneous reply.
She stopped a little past me and pointed to a spot of grass as if showing me seeds that I had missed.
"You'd stare at your mother the way you stare at me?" she said, quickly, her eyes on the grass.
Getting up and going to where she had pointed, I said.
"No, because I'd be seeing more of you every day and even get to touch you," I said, again surprising myself.
