The Day Began Like So Many Others

***

The day began like so many others. Davey rose groggily to consciousness, the blissful oblivion of sleep pierced by the clattering roar of his neighbors lawnmower firing to life. "Fuck, this is some bullshit," he thought. His clock radio began blaring adding insult to injury.

"90.9 WPPK RADIO! I'm Carl Weathers here with the weather! No joke, that's my name! It's August 15th and boy the dog days of summer here in Georgia keep dragging..." The energetic report was cut abruptly short by a poorly aimed shoe thrown by Davey. The clock thumped to the floor. "Fuck," muttered Davey. Wanting nothing more than to sleep the day away, he rolled over to bury himself under the covers.

"Davey, it's time to get up!" his mother, Sandra Collins called from the kitchen. The smell of bacon, coffee, and waffles seeped beneath his closed door as she prepared breakfast. "You promised to help Mrs. Harper up the street and I need to go to the office to file some paperwork!" Davey groaned again. Life, it seemed, would not simply idle by without thrusting its ever pressing frustrations into his lap. "Ma, I'll do it tomorrow," he rasped out. From under the covers he flailed for the glass of water on his nightstand to parch his throat. Knocked it to the floor a burst of jazz rang out from the alarm clock as its circuits fried, then it sparked and died. At this indignity, Davey buried himself deeper.

"Davey, you really need to get up. It's 8:30 and I have to go," Sandra said, opening the door after two sharp raps. She looked professional as always, a slender pencil skirt hugging her toned thighs. A pressed white button down clung fetchingly over her modest bosom. Blazer top slung over her shoulder, she leaned askance against the doorframe and peered critically over her glasses at the pile of blankets covering Davey. A skinny foot poked out from underneath as she apprised her wayward son.

"Davey, I'm leaving in 5 minutes and you need to drag your butt to the shower and get moving. Breakfasts on the table, clean up when you're done and go help Mrs. Harper. She's been pestering me for weeks to get you over there. Last warning, Mister." Sandra strode into his room, smiling briefly at the telescope leaning in a corner. A gift from her late husband on Davey's tenth birthday, it was perhaps one of the few hobbies he'd shown great interest in growing up. Aside from video games, but then again that was typical of young men in his generation.

She pinched his toe, spurring a yelp from under the pile. "Up!" she exclaimed pulling back the covers, exposing Davey's short, pudgy frame clad in an oversized tee and tighty whiteys. Underwhelming in most ways, the young man's only real striking features were his golden eyes, luscious long lashes, and rotund backside. He groaned. "Fine, I'm up. I'm up," he said. Stretching, he took in his surroundings. His mother, standing somewhat imperiously at the foot of the bed, while on the walls posters of various planets and starscapes interspersed pin ups of game characters. They gazed down on his pallid form, unblinking. He huffed. Same as it ever was. Typical.

Sandra cast another glance at him, eyes briefly lingering on the sad bulge between his legs before meeting his eyes. "Go get cleaned up," she commanded. "I'm leaving." She tossed the blanket at him, turned, and strode out. The pencil skirt hugged an ass which could only be described as trim. A former long distance runner, Sandra had settled down after meeting her husband. They had a whirlwind romance and born Davey from the fruits of their loins some two decades prior. As in all stories though, tragedy so frequently strikes and her husband passed from cancer leaving Sandra alone.

But the years had been kind and she had stayed fit both for her love of his memory, and her love of herself. The drive to provide had thickened her skin, the demands of high powered corporate life necessitating casting aside most motherly affectations. She loved her son, but felt that he was not on the path to success.

Little did Sandra and Davey know, today, a day which began like so many others was going to be one which changed his life and eventually hers as well.

***

Davey slouched down the street, eyes squinted against the glare of the mid morning sun. His tennis shoes crunched on gravel and even the birds in the neighborhood pond he passed seemed subdued. "Ugh, this sucks!" he thought. Things hadn't been going well. Summer break from community college was boring. School itself had proven to be a drag. His grades were mediocre and he didn't see what good his degree in Communications would do. All he wanted to do was star-gaze but he lacked the drive to pursue a STEM degree. Even his teachers all treated him kind of like a weird bug. No matter how many times he insisted on being called David, they all called him Davey in a mildly patronizing tone. He kicked an errant rock which had the temerity to exist, startling a squirrel nearby. It looked at him curiously as the short young man trudged along the path on to his date with destiny.

Ding Dong. Davey stood nervously on the doorstep of the quaint two story home. He looked at the hydrangeas framing the front stoop and tapped his foot with some impatience.

The door swung open. "Why Davey, Hello!" beamed Mrs. Naomi Harper from within. Davey gawped. So rarely did anyone seem genuinely happy to see him, it struck him as very odd. "Do come in," she said, moving aside. "Thank you for coming, I desperately need help moving some boxes and with the yard." She flicked a hand at the hydrangeas. "Tony said he would trim those back but has been putting it off and I'm tired of waiting."

Davey shuffled inside, shrinking into himself a little both out of nervousness and not wanting to bump into her nearly eye level cleavage. Ever aware of the heat emanating off her, he tried desperately to not get hard. Not that anyone would likely notice his substandard pecker. Mrs. Harper's statuesque frame could be considered intimidating, even before being elevated on modest pumps and wrapped in a figure clinging chiffon summer dress. She closed the door and beckoned him deeper into the house. Davey's heart skipped a few beats as his eyes lingered on her incredibly thin waist and mind-bogglingly large backside. Shaking himself, he followed though it did not escape his attention that even when viewed from behind the sides of Mrs. Harper's epic prow could still be seen. "Unreal tits," he thought.

They entered an appropriately tidy kitchen where Tony, Mrs. Harper's husband, sat absently reading the morning paper. A squat boulder of a man, he loomed before a spread of a half dozen boiled eggs and a pitcher of milk. A bodybuilder by hobby, inattentive husband by trade, and welder by way of work, it struck Davey as bizarre that Tony ever could have wooed the flawlessly dark skinned Naomi Harper. Her amply soft curves, even when packed onto such a tall frame, seemed the antithesis of the man.

"Davey's here to help out around the house," she said, pointing towards the attic. Tony grunted, eyes flicking briefly at Davey before returning to the paper. "Just be done before the game is on," he rumbled. Naomi cast a despairing glance at Davey before moving towards the garage. He followed in tow, a moon orbiting the planetoids of each sculpted ass cheek swaying just out of view under the baby blue of her dress.

***

Davey heaved. The day had turned into an absolute scorcher. Moving boxes out of the attic and to the curb had really taken a toll. His rocker tee was pasted to him with sweat, and he felt like his skinny limbs would break as he plunked one final box down on the pile. Wiping his brow he surveyed the damage. "Thirty..seven? Holy heck, that's a lot of crap," he thought. Turning, he spied Mrs. Harper leaning against the garage door. "Hey, I brought you some lemonade," she said, brilliant pearly white teeth flashing in stark contrast to her smoky luster. "Thanks," he gasped, flapping his sticky shirt futility against the humidity of the day. Snagging the pitcher, he began chugging, ignoring the lemonade as it overflowed and sloshed down his paunch.

She looked at him with a bemused expression. It was a hot day, yes. But not so hot as to ignore good manners. Tutting, she caught his eye. "Slow down there slugger, it's not the end of the world." He demurred, lowering the pitcher with an embarrassed expression. "Sorry, I don't work out much and it's hot as an oven in that attic," he said. Nodding, she pointed back inside the house. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'll rustle up some clothes. I'm sure my son Eric left something when he moved out to live with his girlfriend."

Davey cringed inside, it just wasn't fair that some guys had all the luck. He was certain his own small frame and cartoonishly large backside were somehow to blame. "Okay," he mumbled, shuffling past her. She smiled, hungry eyes laser focused on his bubble butt as she reached down to adjust a rapidly growing problem.

***

"PHUAGH" Davey exclaimed as the cold water sluced over his overheated body. "Oh god that's transcendent," he thought. "God, she jiggles when she walks and I can't believe how big her tits are. Carl is so scary! Was she wearing a thong earlier? I didn't see any panty lines. Does she want me to do yard work too? Shit, this fucking sucks. Why is my ass so big?" Davey groaned. Looking down past his paunch his little dick stood proud. "And you, you little betrayer. Why you gotta be like this," he growled, giving himself an angry stroke.

"Davey? I found some clothes and I'm coming in," Mrs. Harper called from the other side of the bathroom door. Entering, she dropped the clothes in a neatly folded pile on the countertop then turned to lean against it. Davey for his part could scarcely hear anything over the sound of the water. "What?" he hollered, fist wrapped around his diminutive cock.

Mrs. Harper, all delicious curves and jiggling flesh inhaled. She could smell sweat and soap. Her skin ached and she knew there was a prize to be had. She looked into the mirror and took stock of herself critically. Middle aged, distant husband, children gone. Her eyes traced the curves of her body down to the growing bulge between her legs. She loved who she was, gleaming in the humidity of the steamy bathroom. But she hadn't had anyone scratch that itch in so long. She had watched Davey move boxes all morning and deep into the afternoon and seen such potential there, especially between his thick cheeks.

She moaned, lips parting as she traced a nail in the reflection between her cleavage and down, down, down to the turgidity below. She knew then what must be done. She met her own eyes and nodded, permission given. Quietly she reached over and locked the door, then with a tentative hand slid back the shower curtain.

Long delicate ebony fingers joined Davey's and he jolted. His clenched eyes snapped open and met Mrs. Harper's mischievous grin, a pearly white radiance which struck him dumb. "Mrs.....Mrs Harper! What are you doing? I'm so sorry, this isn't what it looks like!" he gasped out. His diminutive pecker wilted with shock, previous horniness gone like stardust. He tried to bat her hand away but her grip was iron as she wove her fingers between his. "Why Davey, what is this? Are we feeling a little...pent up?" She looked at his little dick as it vanished into her palm. Her other hand crept up his back like a spider, sending shocks through his spine and into a primal part of his brain which only had the urge to fuck and kill.

"Davey," she purred, "I see a young man who needs a guiding hand. So I am going to change you into someone better, but first I'm going to see what clay I. Have. On. Hand." Writhing in her chiffon dress, she punctuated each word with a sharp stroke of his straining pecker. Davey stiffened at the attention, too confused to even protest. Details came into sharp focus for him. The way humidity and sweat beaded on the upper surface of her tremendous cleavage. The way her tongue licked at her lips. The way her eyes bored into him with a promise of complete transformation. She was so dark yet gleamed so brilliantly he felt like he was falling into a sea of stars.

"Tell me you want to be better, Davey," She husked, maintaining a steady tempo. He groaned, trying to describe wordlessly his feelings of inadequacy and aimlessness. His thin limbs trembled as she increased speed, pulling his cock towards tumescence. "Tell me you want to be something other than what you are, which is a fat ass little man who doesn't know who he is," she breathed in his ear. Davey gasped, as though a bolt of lightning had struck his core. His cock surged and became as hard as it possibly could. Not very impressive all things considered, but Mrs. Harper seemed amused and overjoyed that her ministrations had such an effect.

"Oh god, Mrs. Harper, I'm gonna! Gonna! Why are you doing this! Fuck!" He tried to convey. "Tell. Me. You. Want. To. Be. Better." She replied, ebony curves jiggling and shifting as she rapidly cranked his diminutive length. "I WANT IT!" he cried out as a thousand fireworks raced up from his core. An avalanche of desire and conflicting emotions rushed through his mind as he came. A want to be a better man, deep insecurity over being a mediocre student, a lust for the woman who held him in her grip. Balls churning he came for what felt like a lifetime, five shots, then ten before being drained. He sagged as his offering splashed against the shower tile.

"Hmmm.....there's potential here." Mrs. Harper said with a critical eye. "That's a lot of cum." She scooped up a generous helping from the tile and licked her fingers. "Delicious." Davey lay crumpled in the shower, to out of it to understand what she was saying. The shower began running cold as the hot water ran out. It splashed over him but he barely noticed for how overheated his flesh felt in the aftershocks of orgasm.

"Now, Davey, I have a little problem and you are going to help me. So get it together." He turned bleary eyes towards her. She seemed to swell in his mind, all of her curves and impressive height becoming something even more utterly dominating. "Okay," he managed to squeak.

She nodded and reached behind herself and began slowly unzipping her dress. Each inch of supple curves bulged magnetically. Flesh flawless in luster emerged as though sculpted in the finest ebony by the masters of old. Tits as massive as warships lay cupped in a deep purple brassiere. Hips as wide as the Red Sea lay ensconced between the thin straps of filigree as delicate as a whisper. But as Davey's lusty eyes were drawn downwards he saw something his mind could not comprehend.

A cock. A massive cock. A bludgeoning torpedo of a cock. A cock that dripped precum like a faucet. A cock writhing with veins that throbbed with promise. An uncut cock whose massive head hung nearly to her knees. And below the head were two fat testicles as globular as grapefruits. They surged and churned with swimmers, vibrating intensely as she stared at him with flaring eyes. She inhaled deeply and the pole....grew.

First the base thickened at the root where neatly trimmed pubes curled. Veins rippled and engorged. Her balls jostled and swelled. The foreskin peeled back and a pungent miasma of fertile earth filled the bathroom. Then she breathed out and it snapped forward like a titanium bar. Davey quaked in the shower. The heat from her steel was immense, overwhelming, and utterly without barriers. He knew then that he would be forever changed.

Naomi Harper's eyes glowed. As her immense prong grew to its full length her ever jiggling body toned and sharpened. Her already thick thighs became even thicker with muscle to better thrust with. Her ass, visible even from the front, lost its squishy texture and became granite. Her stomach, once a motherly landscape of curves, smoothed until her intense musculature was more than readily apparent. The only soft part of her which remained were her epic breasts, heaving with lust. Dark areola crinkled and poked through her brassiere like ice tipped bullets.

Davey whimpered. This towering figure scared him deep to his core. His fat cheeks quaked as he lost himself in the whirlpool of her gaze. "Now, Davey. You said you wanted to change, yes? Come, worship me and I will carve you into a new man." Her voice echoed in the small bathroom, buzzing with reverberation of ages long gone. He heard the deep distance of time in far flung reaches of space and knew that he had already lost himself to whomever, or whatever this ebon creature was before him.

In a most undignified manner Mrs. Harper plonked herself down on the toilet, pendulous fat balls spilling over the rim of the seat. "Get sucking you little fuckslut. My cum is going to shape you into a man worth putting a baby in me." She hoisted the pulsating grapefruits up and Davey caught the glimpse of a glistening slit.

"Really?" he brightened. Maybe he wasn't such a fuckup afterall! He was gonna get laid! But then the words she had said caught up to his brain. Cum? Wait, what?! Mrs. Harper, or whatever it was that claimed to be Mrs. Harper saw him trying to wrap his mind around this. "Cum only comes one way, Davey. Get sucking." she murmured, giving her wet pole a stroke.

Davey struggled out of the tub and kneeled before her. Conflicting emotions ran through his mind, how would sucking this absolute bitch breaker turn him into a better man? Her scent grew as he leaned closer, earthy and rich. Veins throbbed and pre-cum dribbled all over his legs as he beheld the iron hard majesty of what was about to reshape his throat. Something deep within him broke: he knew he was nothing. He knew he needed to be guided. He knew that if he was ever to be a good man he would first have to debase himself.

Decision made, little Davey got sucking. Spit and moans filled the air. He ran his tongue all along her scalding flesh, throbbing with need and desire for the superior being who now held him in her thrall. All thoughts of his own conviction of heterosexuality were thrown out the proverbial window. He bent himself to the task of worshiping each inch of her weighty member with conviction. Mrs. Harper's eyes rolled back. "Fuck yeah I knew you were a little cockslut. Work the tip, I have a surprise for you," she moaned between deep inhalations.

Davey complied, swirling an eager tongue around gouts of pre-cum. Catching some in his hand he slathered it all over his face and stuck his tongue out. "It this good for you Mrs. Harper?" he trilled before swallowing the glopping mound down like so much thick whipping cream. She chuckled and tousled his sandy brown hair. "Yes sweetness, you're doing fine. But now I'm going to stretch you out."

She angled her fat cock head into his gaping maw and thrust. His eyes grew wide as the plump tip of her improbably large dick battered at his esophagus. She met his eye and with a quirked eyebrow asked if he could take more. He softened, golden eyes and fluttery lashes giving her permission to plumb his depths. She grinned a razor brief flash of pearly teeth and began inching her third leg down his throat. The first few inches weren't a problem but his air ran out quickly. Tapping her leg until she withdrew, he gasped for air. "Why are you doing this?" he gulped. She looked down, quizzically. "You desire to be a better man. And I see potential for you to be a great man."

Having regained his breath, Davey looked up at her. Haloed by massive hair, her glowing eyes beamed into his soul. Nodding, he rocked back on his heels and opened his mouth. Bestowing him with an affirmative wink, Naomi Harper gently but interminably began feeding all of her tremendous length into his waiting gullet.

It took some time, lots of spit, and a few moments of nearly blacking out but Davey finally managed to take her entire length. When she finally bottomed out pubes to nose he thought he was going to die. Tears streaked his face and the weight of her gigantic churning balls resting on his chin almost seemed to break his brain. But he had done it. He had taken that thick fucking bitch breaker all the way to the hilt. Muzzily he was aware that something glorious was about to happen.