'Best of times; worst of times', it was Charles Dickens who started off his epic tale of 'A Tale of Two Cities' with that phrase and I have often thought that should my life be written about then those few words would neatly sum up my biography.
However, given my life is not yet done, such thoughts maybe a little premature and there might well be a happy ending after all. Suffice to say as things now stand I'm not optimistic about ending the roller coaster that is my run of misfortune.
Growing up, whilst not completely trauma-free, was a mainly happy period of my life. I had a Mom who I idolised and a Dad who wasn't much of a positive role model given that he was completely dominated by his, it has to be said, rather heavy-set wife. I didn't see it at the time but when she used to comfort me whenever things went wrong and held and cushioned me by her large soft breasts, it gave me an appreciation for larger ladies that has stayed with me for the rest of my life. Likewise, to observe how she treated my father and made him completely subservient to her demands in all aspects of their relationship was absorbed by me as being 'normal' and I grew up not knowing any different. It was an observation that set the pattern and my attitudes toward people, women in particular, since those mainly happy days.
I was a studious child never happier than when I could bury myself in a book. I developed a love of English Literature (hence my reference that started this account) and this interest eventually sent me to college to read the subject in earnest. That's not to say that I devoted myself exclusively to books for I was also a fairly decent athlete and until injury put paid to my ambitions I was playing college hockey and had high hopes of graduating to the top tier. However, it was not to be and a broken leg and other complications made that event one of the 'worst of times' because being away from home I didn't have my Mom telling me everything would be alright before hugging me and letting me bury my head into her soft tits.
It was a wretched time and in between my studies I took solace in pursuing the possibilities presented by the embryonic Internet and masturbation. It opened up a whole new world for me and I soon discovered how to connect with people who shared my interests, attitudes and, dare I say, my fantasies. It certainly wasn't an easy process in those day given that most connections were made through email and photos had to shared by making attachments but things took a more positive turn when I discovered how to connect through 'user groups', special interest forums where like-minded people could correspond knowing that their opinions and desires could be freely shared without prejudice.
My surfing in those days introduced me to so many fantasies that had always been there lurking in my imagination. There were forums that focussed on the most explicit and perverse interests and I discovered the fact that black men were generally known to be better endowed that their White counterparts (aka 'me'). Although I didn't have a regular girlfriend at the time it didn't prevent me from constantly imagining a scenario whereby 'my girlfriend' would be hit on by black men while out shopping or maybe hanging with the girlfriends and that I would 'catch' her one day going off with one of them (or more) and her taking matters to the next level. I would get excited at the thought that when she returned home I would quiz her so I could pretend to be just a bit hurt and then to ask to hear the details. She would cry and ask for my forgiveness of her enjoying well-hung black lovers and then she would be surprised that I would only give her my forgiveness if she allowed me to lick her cunt and get some delicious after-sex sperm and pussy juice! God, I can't count how many times I wanked myself silly running through that fantasy.
However, despite the growing interest in seeing images of white women with black cock my true desires lay in the direction that was true to my history and upbringing and I identified myself with a group called 'alt.binaries.plumpers' as being my natural home.
'Plumpers', as I came to call it, was a group that catered for anyone who had an interest in big breasted women. I delighted in seeing pictures of these naked BBW, both amateur and professional models, and as I stroked off all I could see in my head was my Mom and have thoughts of how she used to treat my father and how he used to submissively accede to her every demand. Such thoughts fuelled my fantasies and fired my desires to find someone who might provide a similar relationship. Plumpers was to provide the solution.
Her name was Deidre, a married lady who lived on the other side of the country. She was my dream come true and over the course of a few months I discovered that her and her husband did a lot of wild things and I squirmed with excitement when she hinted that they might be swingers. She sent me lots of pictures of herself including a set of herself in an old style flapper's outfit lying across a player piano and slowly undressing and then using adult toys. We began to correspond by email nearly every day and she loved my comments. She especially liked to know that I was wanking over the pictures she sent and she used to ask if I had any requests. I told her that I didn't mind what poses she made just as long as I could see those large soft tits and maybe have her look as if she was inviting me to caress and suck on those delightful nipples. She often complied with the most explicit photos.
By the turn of the century we had become the best of friends albeit that we hadn't actually met face-to-face. Our relationship had improved along with the technology and email was left behind and we now corresponded, if you can call it that, by real-time Messaging.
Life had changed for both of us. I had graduated from college, my parents had both died and I was feeling quite lonely and vulnerable as I got used to my new situation working and living in Toledo.
For Deidre life had become even more turbulent, she confided in me that her husband had been cheating on her. She explained that the woman who had been a part of their 'social group' and he had secretly been seeing had somehow moved into their family home and was now slowly trying to push Deidre out.
It was not a happy time for her and I suspected she was looking to me for a little emotional support when at her suggestion she thought that I might like to take time out and pay her visit. I had a couple of days holiday owed by my company and I guess it was my submissive side that showed when I didn't hesitate to do as she requested.
Deidre met me at the airport and not wishing to complicate her home life I checked into a local motel. I'm not sure if her husband was aware that I was around but it was of no consequence to me as I had no desire to meet him. I was just thrilled to be left alone to enjoy the company of this beautiful BBW, a goddess, who seemed equally as keen to be in mine. In the flesh she reminded me a lot of my mother both in appearance (big tits!) and with her forthright attitude; she clearly wasn't going to be the subservient one in our relationship and I was happy and looking forward to that!
She was everything I looked for in a woman. She was witty; smart; extremely open with her attitudes and desires and seemed to have no embarrassment with sharing with me details of where her marriage had gone wrong. Indeed, the truth came out that her husband far from just becoming close to 'the other woman' was not just the consequence of a secret affair, it was due to their lifestyle; they were all active swingers and the woman had fallen in a big way for her husband with the upshot that they were all four of them were heading for divorce. Deidre had no such feelings for the other man and I went back home after a wonderful couple of days believing that maybe I had struck lucky with finding the woman of my dreams. By the time I left for home that Sunday early evening we were pretty tightly tied to one another emotionally and felt as though our friendship was headed in a different yet more exciting direction. I looked back on that weekend as being amongst 'the best of times'.
Once I returned home we resumed our daily on-line chatting and sharing of pictures and fantasies. She told me a lot about the swinging life she had been leading over the past few years and I let myself become quite excited at thoughts of being present at the some of the parties she described albeit not so much as being an active participant, more of being a watcher. The idea of being present and actually seeing someone I loved being fucked had a great appeal.
A few months passed by with our fantasy-sharing (well, fantasies for me; not so for her, she was relating what she had actually done!) and then she told me two things. One was that the other couple's divorce had come through and the situation at home had really ramped up and she was looking for an early release from her own marriage; second thing was that she was coming up north for her first business trip to Chicago, close enough to my home town, Toledo, for me to go and meet with her in her hotel. I was elated at hearing both news items and had great expectations for developments on both fronts.
In the event I should not have let myself get so excited at the prospect of hooking up for matters on the world stage put paid to my fevered plan. She flew up on the 10th September 2001, checked into a hotel close by to Sears Tower and we made our arrangement for us to meet a couple of days later. Events the following day in New York put paid to that idea.
As we watched the drama unfold on TV of that despicable act of terror Deidre became quite distressed and worried (understandably so) that being in a area of similar hi-rise buildings might make her a target for another such outrage. With no flights available due to the embargo that had been imposed she managed in the chaos to find a one-way rental and headed back home to Florida. The pendulum of my emotions swung back to it being the worst of times.
