It's been a while since I was shocked but that one shocked me.
"I'm serious," she said, "marry me. You've ruined me for anyone else. Now make me an honest woman."
When I didn't say anything she got to one knee in the classic proposal pose, took my hand, and kissed my palm.
"Please," she said, the wetness spreading down her thighs quickly.
I was surprised when I heard myself say, "yes."
She was crying then and I was on my knees holding her.
"Take me home and make love to me," she was saying over and over.
When she got under control I helped her stand again and then walked her to the car.
She was crying and, if we're being honest here, I was a bit weepy myself.
I mean, shit, it wasn't like I was actually going to marry this broad, but it was a touching moment nonetheless.
By the time we got home, we were both giggling. The dark wet stain on her jeans made a little semi-circle from the bottom of her zipper down, and then down the inside of both thighs. I led her right to the bedroom and stood her in front of her floor-length mirror.
"I think maybe you don't need your fancy undies after all," I said.
She giggled and said, "David, this was fun today but I WILL keep wearing them."
I smiled and took her into my arms. The T-shirt peeled off easily, and I played with those big floppy titties for a while before I started on her wet jeans.
Since they were wet I had to struggle a bit to get them off of her. She was giggling by the time I had them around her ankles.
I stood and kissed her. I brushed her cheek, and it was swollen a little.
"If I mark you, if I slap you again, will you use makeup to cover it up?" I asked.
She smiled, that happy smile, and said, "are you kidding? I'll wear your mark proudly."
"I see," I said, flashing The Grin, "well, bride-to-be, let's see if your skills with your mouth are getting any better."
She smiled and got to her knees, a little ponderous at her size but not too bad, and began making love to my cock. This wasn't just a blow job. She was kissing my dick and my scrotum, whispering "I love you," as she did. She was caressing with her cheeks and looking up at me over the little roundness of my pubic arch, smiling with her eyes as she accepted me into her mouth.
She had obviously been reading, studying, and maybe practicing on a banana or something. She had learned, or figured out, how to wrap the base of her tongue around my shaft, to use it to almost make me cum with each slow stroke as she pulled off.
I entwined my fingers in her hair, not pulling and hurting, but controlling, and guiding. Each time she took me into her mouth I would pull, gently but firmly, until I felt her body start to retch as I triggered her gag reflex. Then I would release the pressure, stroking her hair. Smiling down at her.
I didn't want to cum like that. I figured she deserved some tenderness so after a couple of minutes I offered my hands and helped her to her feet.
"I'm sorry baby," she said, "I want to take you all the way so much."
I brushed my fingers across her cheek, where it was swollen and bruised a little. "Don't worry, sugar," I said, "You'll learn." I patted her cheek then, making her wince, "before we're done you'll be a good little cocksucker," I added.
She blushed at that and I couldn't tell if it was over my crude language or her excitement at the prospect.
I helped her into bed and we made love. It was slow and gentle. I had her on top, telling her to relax, to let me have her weight, and loved it the way her soft belly kind of engulfed me. So soft and warm it was like being back in the womb I suppose.
Later, when she had leaned back in the classic cowgirl position, when she came I thought she had lost bladder control at first. But the scent was a pure aroused woman, not urine, and I realized she had actually squirted.
I liked it.
When it was my turn I had her up on all fours and took her from behind. I used her mucus, her natural lubricant, and took her anally. That was work, holding that big ass spread. But it was worth it the way she screamed into her pillow and came again, her thick mucus making the contact between the front of my thighs and the backs of hers slippery.
I went to sleep, my head nestled in the crook of her arm, her nipple in my mouth.
Just before I drifted off I said, "I still want your milk."
She stroked my hair and said, "I'll be going to talk to my doctor tomorrow."
