I saw her in the valet parking area of one of the big new Vegas hotels. It was like a scene out of a movie--this whole crowd of Southern gals, dressed to the nines with billowy dresses and high heels and big floppy hats, saying goodbye to a toothy blonde bride in white lace. I wasn't looking at the bride, though, but at one of the bridesmaids. She was a giant, six feet tall and what was politely called big-boned. Well, being the rangy cowgirl type myself, I always liked a good-sized woman.
Anyway, it was a fair description, she wasn't fat and sloppy, she was large and majestic, long, sturdy trunk-legs propped up in high heels to show there was muscle as well as fat there, a broad bustle of beautifully firm rounded ass, statuesque breasts squeezed up and out to show off a modest, but still flirtingly girlish, amount of cleavage. And her face... like sunshine breaking through a dark day under the shadow of that ridiculous enormous hat, a jolly smile and gleaming teeth set off by long dark hair, gathered up and waiting to be released.
I got wet just watching her deal with the business of wishing the bride and other bridesmaids off--smothering them with massive hugs from that big beautiful body. I wondered what it would be like to have my skinny, boyish self caught up in all those curves and folds. But my fantasy was unlikely to go anywhere, because surely in a moment her car would come and she would just be a memory to pleasure myself with.
But she didn't leave, alone of the ones waiting there. As she wished the last of them off, she went back into the casino, and I followed her.
I watched as she sat down at one of the bars to play video poker, and took the space beside her and struck up a conversation. Her name was Beth, she was mostly from a small town in Georgia although being Air Force the family was from all over (that's why her cousin's wedding was held here). And she was alone in town for another day and a half. I said I was too, suggested that we should hang out together, and then started dropping more and more hints about my interest in her--that she was more beautiful than the bride, that some people liked girls as big as her, that we should go to the disco in the hotel tonight, that's where the action was.
"I'm not interested in pickin' up sum gah on the dance floor," she said, looking a little worried.
"I'm not interested in picking up some guy, either," I said, stressing the word guy. "I'm interested in dancing with you."
"Oh," she said. If she'd been denying what she had to know about my interest in her, she couldn't deny it any more. "Um, sweetie, I'm not--"
"Don't say what you are or what you aren't," I said. "That's how people try to define you. They've defined you in lots of ways, haven't they, Beth? By your size. 'She has a good personality.' 'Makes a great bridesmaid.' Always in terms of how men look at you. Well, maybe I look at you a whole different way. Beautiful. Strong. Alluring. Independent. Maybe in a place like Vegas, you can be those things, and anything else you want to be, free of their definitions. You can experiment as much as you'd like, and when you go home no one has to know but you." I stood up. "And if all you want to do is dance, all you have to do is dance and we'll have a lot better time together than if we both spent the rest of the night feeding quarters into video poker. So, Beth, wanna go dancing?"
She thought for a moment. "Okay," she said. "Ah'd love to."
The disco was tacky but it fit the bill; it was dark, crowded, noisy, and it made us feel like we were alone with each other even with a hundred people around us. A couple of times some jerk came up and tried to dance with me, and each time I loudly said "I'm with her." The first time Beth seemed embarassed, the second time a little proud.
It was great watching her on the dance floor; after a while she really got into it, jiggling all she had back and forth, getting into flashing me a view deep down her ample cleavage, shaking her big round booty up and down. I loved watching the jiggles start with her big round arms and ballooning breasts, then go all the way down her back and into her ass and thighs. On one number we started doing the bump, then rubbing our bellies together, and I took the opportunity to say "I know how this could be even more fun without our clothes on." She blushed but she didn't say anything against the idea.
When that song ended she said "I have to sit down" and started to lead me to a table. Now or never, I thought. "We could lie down instead," I said.
"Y'all are wiiiicked," she said.
"You have no idea," I said.
