Xxl

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned.

*.*

Richard Trahan got out of his pickup truck. The steadily falling rain did not help his mood as he carried the box to the small store. The candle store to the left made him scowl; that would explain why Mary Beth had bought the shoes at the store.

"Help you?" the clerk said, tone of voice unfriendly.

"Need to return these shoes; they're the wrong size," Richard said, placing box and receipt on the counter.

"And why do you need to return them?" the woman demanded of him.

"Had you been paying attention, young lady, you would have heard me say that they're the wrong size," Richard said, voice even.

"Oh. What size you need?" she snapped, preparing to leave the comfort of her perch.

"Fourteen triple E," Richard said.

"Thirteen E's the largest we sell," she snapped.

"Well aware of that; have no idea why my wife thought these would do," Richard stated. "Here are the shoes, here's the receipt."

"Estelle, problem?" an older woman snapped.

Both women carefully inspected the shoes. Richard kept his face bland as they pored over the shoes, hoping to find some reason to refuse the return.

"Well, I can offer you a store credit," the manager offered.

"Or I can just contact my credit card company and cancel the charges; ma'am, my wife did not buy these shoes with a store credit," Richard snapped. "Are you this rude and unfriendly to all of your customers?"

"Or just the ones with a penis?" Richard thought to himself as he left the store.

The rain was still drumming as he got into his truck. He then drove to the store he had asked Mary Beth to go to when he asked her to get the shoes.

"Stanley's. They carry the large sizes. Stanley's," Richard said to himself as he parked. "Oh, but they don't have a candle store next door. Or a pet store on the other side, huh?"

"Nope. Just a tire store and a Brick's Pizza; why the hell would you drive clear across town come here?" he muttered as he entered the small shoe store.

"Hi, welcome to Stanley's, can I, Mr. Trahan?" a young blonde asked as the door chimed.

Richard smiled uncertainly. The girl clearly knew him. She had even used the correct pronunciation of his name; 'Traw haw(n) instead of 'Tray han' as many others in this small Colorado town did.

"Oh my goodness, it is you," she chirped happily. "Hi! How have you been?"

"I uh, been good, made it to the semi-finals last year, oh, and uh, made it to divisionals in the Physics Bowl. Getting ready for another year at St. Pious," he stammered, trying to place the obese young woman that smiled so happily.

"So, you're still teaching? And coaching?" she asked as she followed him to the men's' shoe display area.

"Yeah, got to pay the bills," he said.

"Tell me about it," she smiled.

"Miss, I hate to admit it; I mean, you obviously know who I am, but..." Richard said.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she giggled. I was there, God, it's been three years, man, three years..."

She trailed off, thinking. Richard almost laughed. To a girl in her late teens, early twenties, three years probably did seem like a long time ago.

"Wait until you're in your fifties," he wanted to tell her.

"Oh, sorry, anyway, I'm Mandy Wolff; had you for Algebra," the girl said.

Algebra was a class he taught to the eighth grade, ninth grade at St. Pious Catholic High School.

"About three years ago?" Richard mused.

"Uh huh, I mean, yes sir," Mandy said.

Richard smiled. He always interrupted his students when they gave him answers like 'uh huh' or 'nuh uh' or 'yeah' and made them repeat the statement, using proper grammar.

He found the black wingtip oxfords he was looking for and asked for them in a size 14EEE. Mandy's clear blue eyes darted down to his large feet before she turned and walked to the stockroom.

Richard watched the short girl as she strode. She stood about five feet two or three, putting her a full foot shorter than himself. Being a football coach, he had become fairly good at judging height and weight; Mandy was seventy to eighty pounds overweight.

Her large buttocks jiggled and undulated in her skirt. Her legs were thick, lightly tanned.

Her hair was a short bob and curled under, touching her neck. At the door of the stockroom, she turned and flashed Richard a dimpled smile. Then the door closed behind her.

"Amanda Wolff, junior year," Richard suddenly remembered.

And she had been quite overweight at that time. But her hair had been longer. And her cute face had been obscured by a mass of pimples.

Amanda had been a junior. According to her transcripts from Benhurst Academy, it was the second time she was taking Algebra. At Benhurst Academy, she'd managed a '43' in the class.

At St. Pious the poor girl had failed Algebra, managed to squeak out a '55' for the year. She also failed her English, and Biology classes that year. She did not attend summer classes and she had not returned the following school year.

With just over two hundred students, Richard had not had the time to ponder one student's failure. Being both the Mathematics teacher and the football coach, Richard barely had time to ponder when to scratch his ass, much less the fate, the future of one chubby little girl.

"Okay, we have it," Mandy said, smiling proudly. "And we had these. They're a penny loafer? But they're made with the comfort sole; thought you might want look at them?"

"In a Fourteen triple E?" Richard asked, glancing at the burgundy colored shoe she held out.

"Uh huh, yes sir," Mandy said.

Richard took a seat. Mandy pulled a foot stool over and quickly, efficiently laced the wingtip oxford. Richard watched the girl's pretty face as she worked. Gone were the pimples that had plagued her. As she worked, her bottom lip stuck out in a slight pout.

"Know you didn't return to St. Pious; where'd you go after?" Richard asked gently.

"Didn't," she said. "Dropped out."

"Dropped out?" Richard asked, actually upset with that information.

Being a teacher, he hated to hear that anyone had ever dropped out of high school. Mary Beth's friend, Noelle Childress was a high school dropout and seemed proud of that fact. The militant African-American seemed ready to fight Richard any time he spoke about school. So, Richard didn't talk at all when the woman was around.

"Did you at least get your GED?" Richard quietly asked the girl.

Her blue eyes looked into his brown ones. Silently, she shook her head.

"Didn't understand none of it when I'm sitting there," she said. "How I'm going pass them tests?"

Richard bought the wingtip oxfords. The penny loafers, he agreed, were very comfortable but he just couldn't bring himself to part with one hundred and sixty four dollars.

"Maybe next time," Mandy said cheerfully.

"Maybe," Richard smiled.

Mandy watched as the man left the store. Then she returned the penny loafers to the shelf. From the stockroom shelfs, she scurried to the miniscule employee bathroom, hiked up her skirt and quickly masturbated.

Richard Trahan was a handsome man. Mandy had no idea how old he was; she was terrible at guessing ages. He had dark hair with several flecks of gray woven throughout, but his hair was thick and full. His eyes were a rich chocolate brown and his handsome face was tanned from countless hours outside.

Richard Trahan had played football in high school and in college. He had been a wide receiver for the Missouri River State Pioneers.

Today, he still possessed the general physique of a football player; broad shoulders, narrow waist. Thighs that threatened to burst the seams of his trousers. There was some thickening around his middle, but not much. When she'd attended St. Pious High School, her boyfriend, Jamal Walker had said that Coach worked out with the players. He ran sprints with the players. He often told the players he would never ask anything of them that he himself would be unprepared to give.

"Free dinner at Benny's Burger Bar if you can lap me," he would yell just before blowing the whistle.

And so far, Richard had to buy only one young man a meal at Benny's Burger Bar. The kid had been freakishly fast and had lapped Coach Trahan and the entire squad.

Mandy pulled her skirt down, then giggled when she realized she did have to urinate.

While Mandy was helping customers and watching the clock slowly drag by, Richard was at home, silently praying for strength. He'd heard a commercial on his truck's radio that Marcie Martin was performing at the Alley that Friday. Personally, he could not stand the woman's music; it was all whiney and warbly and her lyrics generally were about how horrible and unfeeling men were. But Mary Beth was a fan and she also liked the Alley; it wasn't a 'meat market' in her opinion.

So when he arrived home, he'd told Mary Beth about the upcoming performance and offered to get tickets.

"Huh? Oh, oh, well, I uh, Noelle and Chrissie already got tickets and they asked me go with them," Mary Beth said.

"Oh," Richard said.

He wanted to ask her why she would prefer to go with the two militant lesbians than with her own husband. But just like in the past, Richard let the matter drop.

From there, Mary Beth complained about the deck; he was supposed to clean it off. She'd invited Noelle and Chrissie and the couple from next door over for tomorrow night; could he make sure the grill had enough propane? Noelle planned on doing vegetarian kabobs; the outside lights did work, didn't they?

"Sure thing, Mary Beth," I'll do all of that just as soon as you get me the shoes I asked you pick up," Richard said.

"What? I did," Mary Beth said. "Showed them to you this morning."

"They were the wrong size, Mary Beth," Richard said.

"Huh? No they weren't," Mary Beth argued. "Where are they? I'll show you."

"They were a size thirteen E, Mary Beth. I don't wear a size thirteen E," Richard sighed, unlocking the door to the rear porch.

"No, the girl said they ran big; did you try them on?" Mary Beth argued. "Watch it! Toby's trying get out."

"Come on, God damned miserable cat, want out? I'll let you out," Richard snarled, more to Mary Beth than to the orange tabby.

"No!" Mary Beth screamed, rushing to grab the willful beast.

Richard used one of his 14EEE feet to shove the cat back as he stepped outside. He then grabbed the folded towel he kept by the back door. Quickly, efficiently, he wiped down the wooden furniture. He then hefted the propane tank and judged that there was enough propane. Then, he used his wire brush to scrape last weekend's ashes from the racks.

Thankfully, the rain had ceased by the time Richard stepped onto the back deck. His last act before stepping back into the house was to wipe off the cover of the hot tub. With one last glance around, Richard stepped back into the house.

"Daddy didn't mean it; Daddy wouldn't let you out," Mary Beth was crooning to the cat. "Tell him, Daddy. Tell him..."

"Meant every word of it," Richard said as he opened the basement door. "Just say the word and I'll let you out. I'll even show you where the best coyotes are."

"Daddy!" Mary Beth shrilled, horrified.

Richard carried his towel down the stairs, shutting out Mary Beth's complaints. Darren and Samantha, Mary Beth's black and white cat and her Himalayan cat were in the basement. Darren was stealthily creeping up on a dust bunny and Samantha was wedged between washing machine and dryer.

"Either one of y'all want out?" Richard asked. "Huh? Just say the word, hear?"

He threw the towel into the washing machine, emptied the hamper into the washing machine, after making sure there were no errant dark colored items that could stain the towels and panties and boxers, then started the washing machine.

"We're mad at you," Mary Beth fussed when Richard came up the stairs.

"And?" Richard asked. "Since my opinion means nothing to you, why should your opinion mean anything to me?"

"What's that mean?" Mary Beth demanded as he walked toward their bedroom.

"Huh? What's that mean?" Mary Beth angrily demanded, slamming the door of their bedroom open.

Richard looked at his wife. They had met on the campus of Missouri River State University when she was a freshman and he a senior. It had been a party to celebrate a stunning upset over Norman College's Bulls. The Texas school was being touted as having an unstoppable defense, but somehow the Pioneers had managed to stop them. They had managed to trample over them with a series of short passes. They sent the Bulls back to Lowridge, Texas with an eighteen to seven defeat.

"Unstoppable? Huh? Unstoppable my ass, bitch!" Jerry Gemilli, the senior quarterback screamed. "Hey, Coon ass! Get your Cajun ass over here!"

"What, Dago bitch?" Richard had screamed back.

The two bumped heads hard, then laughed and slapped each other's backs.

Then Trisha, one of the cheerleaders had introduced the quarterback and wide receiver to Mary Beth Rossini, a short waiflike brunette. She let them know that Mary Beth was a pledge at her sorority.

Then Trisha grabbed one of the hulking African-American defensive ends. The blonde cheerleader and the football player disappeared, leaving the befuddled, slightly drunk Mary Beth alone. Somehow, Richard found himself being Mary Beth's chaperone for the party.

"Why'd he, why'd that guy call you a coon?" Mary Beth drunkenly slurred thirty minutes and four cups of beer later.

"Coon ASS," Richard explained, smiling. "I'm Cajun. Supposedly, a coon's ass is about the only thing we won't eat. Supposed be an insult, but most of us wear it with pride."

"You're Cajun?" Mary Beth asked, pretty face screwed up in confusion. "What's that mean?"

"Means he's from the bayou," Eric Sneed drunkenly screamed. "Grew up playing with gators. There ain't no forks in his family tree. Can walk on water because he's got web feet."

"Means can slap red headed ass holes into next week," Richard said, lightly shoving Eric away.

Richard explained to Mary Beth that he was from DeGarde, Louisiana. He was in Missouri because the university gave him a full scholarship.

Trisha came, checked on Mary Beth, then promptly found another football player to disappear with. Mary Beth proceeded to drink far more than she should, threw up violently, then passed out. Richard knew, from experience, that any passed out drunk girl was considered 'fair game' among the drunk athletes. He also knew, from previous parties, that Trisha would promise, swear on her mother's life to watch over, protect the drunken pledge, then find another football player to fuck and the pledge would be on her own.

"Come on, Mary Beth Rossini," Richard said, easily picking up the unconscious girl.

She vomited again when they got outside. She vomited a third time in his car, then vomited on the front porch of the sorority house. There was no one home and she had no idea where she was, where her room was. So Richard put the petite girl on the couch, lying on her stomach. He put a wastebasket under her face, then left.

A few days later, an angry Trisha cornered Richard in the cafeteria and accused him of taking advantage of the pledge. Richard shook his head, told the girl what had actually happened and left.

Trisha would not let the matter drop; the head of the sorority had jumped on Trish because Mary Beth had become violently ill, staining their couch. The smell was close to intolerable in the September heat. Of course, Mary Beth had no real memory of what had happened. She did remember meeting a real live coon ass, though.

To cover her ass, Trisha brought her complaint to the Greek Council. Richard found out that the hearing was a very one-sided argument. That was, until he had three of the six players that Trisha had fucked that night come forward.

To a man, the three football players stated that Trisha had brought an underage pledge to the party, allowed the underage pledge to drink, become intoxicated, but showed no concern for the pledge's welfare.

"All I did was make sure the girl got home safely. What happened after I put her on the couch? Man, you tell me," Richard said.

Trisha glared at the three smirking football players. They just returned her stare.

"After what we done? You going do me like that?" she hissed.

"Shit girl, you mean what you'll let any swinging dick do," one of them laughed. "Uh, and hey honey? Ain't nothing special 'bout it neither."

Richard then had one former pledge come forward and inform the Council that she'd been a pledge that Trisha had abandoned at a party. Unfortunately for this pledge, Richard had not been there to help. Ashamed, and angered, the girl had dropped out of the university.

"Patricia Loudermilk?" The President of the Greek Council asked, fixing Trisha with a glare.

"I'm finished here?" Richard asked. "I mean, y'all need more proof? Can come smell front seat of my car where that girl threw up."

"No, Richard Trahan, you're free to go," the Sargent At Arms said, glaring at Trisha.

"Traw haw(n)," Richard corrected.

Just as the other pledge had done, Mary Beth Rossini decided she did not want to be a member of that particular sorority. She did not drop out of the university, though. And she sought out Richard to thank him.

Mary Beth was not his type. Richard liked long legged blondes with pneumatic breasts. He certainly didn't care for short, scrawny little brunettes that were from good Catholic families and were bound and determined to be virgin on their wedding night. But a little adulation is good for the male ego.

Virginal or not, Mary Beth Rossini did know how to suck cock. She even knew how to deep throat a cock. When Richard returned the favor, tonguing her to a screaming orgasm, Mary Beth knew it was true love.

The football season ended. A Canadian team did show some interest in Richard, but Richard politely informed them that he intended to follow his true passion, teaching. His first job after graduation was a gang-riddled high school in Colfax, Missouri. His first day there was almost his last day. In third period, screaming Spanish insults, a gang member pulled a switchblade knife on Richard. Richard slapped the knife out of the boy's hand and punched him in his face. The boy fell to the floor, unconscious. Richard did turn the boy so that he would not choke to death on his own blood.

"Uh, once you'd disarmed uh, the uh, student, you uh, you had no need to strike uh, the student," the vice-principal stated.

"I wasn't sure if he had a second weapon or not," Richard calmly lied.

"Oh. I uh, well, uh, next time, uh..." the man said.

When she heard what Richard had endured, Mary Beth almost forgot about going to her wedding night a virgin. She hugged and kissed Richard, crying frantically that she'd almost lost him that day.

The day after Mary Beth graduated with a degree in Liberal Arts, Richard proposed marriage. Happily, tearfully, Mary Beth accepted.

Richard had already met Albert Rossini and Sandra Rossini, had met Mary Beth's married sister Cathy Hinton and had been accepted by Mary Beth's family.

Richard's mother had met Mary Beth last Christmas and had politely received Mary Beth into her home.

Then, in Cajun French, Camille asked Richard why he couldn't find a good little Cajun girl settle down with? She was willing bet Mary Beth didn't even know how make a good etouffee, much less a roux.

"What wrong that Marie Duvalier?" she asked him.

"Marie? Girl so ugly even them alligators don't bother her," Richard scoffed.

"Shush you, she ain't that bad no," Camille insisted.

"And her?" Richard said, pointing at Mary Beth. "She ain't that bad neither."

"Well, at least she Catholic," Camille grudgingly agreed.