Hi, people. Have a new one here. This is a little longer than my usual work, but I feel it is worth the time. A lot of work went into it, and I hope you all like it. This story contains a lot of buildup, but it is really sexy. If you love big beautiful women, READ ON!
This is a work of fiction, all people and places are either fictitious or used fictitiously.
As always, your comments are appreciated.
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Dean McCarthy was so glad to be going home. It was going to be great to be back in the good old U.S., as corny as that sounded. He had been in England for six years, four attending “university,” as they called it, and two as a junior procurer for one of England’s biggest, and some said best museums. His job had been to buy rare and priceless works of art. His travels had carried him all throughout Europe. He had seen every major city in Europe: Paris, Lisbon, Amsterdam, Prague, and Madrid. His job had ended when the primary focus of his museum had shifted from purchasing works of art to restoration. He had been offered a more than generous severance package.
He decided to use the money to take a vacation. He had decided early on that he did not want to go alone. He had no steady lady friends in his life, so his choices had been rather limited. He had called his mom, Rosalyn, and asked her if she would like to go with him. She had said she would love to, and asked him where he panned on going. He replied that he had not gotten that far yet and wanted her to book the trip for anywhere she would want to go. She had called back a couple of days later, letting him know that she had already mailed his tickets and the itinerary.
As he boarded the jumbo jet in London, he thought about his life. His dad, the owner of a nationwide furniture store chain had died when he was just one year old in a freak heart attack. So all of his life, his mother and he had been alone. They had been left more than well off because of his success. She had been a constant fixture in his life, and leaving to go to college in England had been the hardest thing he had ever done. However, going to school in England had been one of the best things he could have done.
He had left a five foot eight string of a boy, one hundred and sixty pounds soaking wet, unsure of himself, and unpolished. He had changed great deal. For one thing, physically he had changed. He had shot up over three inches in a late growth spurt and had put on more than one hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, although as of late he had added a couple of pounds around his middle, which he felt softened out his body, giving him a more mature, natural look.
At six foot one and close to three hundred pounds, with large, muscular arms, wide shoulders, and a strong, deep chest, he knew he cut an imposing figure. He had been polished socially, he was no longer shy, and awkward, he was no longer afraid to admit what he liked and to go after it: he loved big women. Really big women. He was not sure when his taste in women changed from the skinny supermodel to the big beautiful woman, but he was thankful for that day. He loved women that were over 350 pounds. He loved everything about them, the softness, the way they walked, the touches.
He fell asleep soon after the meal and the rest of the flight passed rather uneventfully. He arrived in Jacksonville International Airport sometime after seven that evening, and had checked into the nearest hotel, a Clarion right at the airport, passing the night away quickly. He got up the next morning feeling rested. He had breakfast, and went to do a couple of errands before his mom got there. He found the largest bouquet of exotic flowers he could find. He also got a large box of boutique chocolates (her favorite). He arrived back at the hotel and went to the lobby to wait on his mom.
When he saw her, he yelled out in exuberance, “MOM!”
She looked at him as if she did not know him, and then recognition lit her face. “Oh my God, Dean, is that you?” She asked moving towards him.
He caught her in a tremendous bear hug, scooping her off her feet, which was quite a feat considering she weighed over four hundred pounds. He put her down and they stood in the lobby looking at each other. He, six foot one, two hundred, ninety-five pounds, her five foot eight, four hundred, thirty-seven pounds. They had both grown, but his growth was more dramatic.
“My goodness Dean, look at you,” she said, rubbing his muscular bicep. “When you left, you were as tall as me and as skinny as a bean, you have grown into a bear of a man. She scanned him; button up, short sleeve casual shirt, jeans fashionably tight across the crotch, and brown, modern shoes. “And I must admit, I haven’t been picked up like that since I was a little girl,” she said.
“Well Mom,” he started “you would be surprised what some exercise can do. And you look fantastic yourself, you are beautiful.” With that, he picked up his blushing, giggling mom in his arms again, showering her with noisy kisses on both cheeks.
He put her down and looked at her again. She was gorgeous. Her red hair shimmered like rubies. Her emerald green eyes with the tawny, golden highlights, her flushed cheeks, her freckles, almost lost in her golden tanned face. Her shoulders, breasts, prominent in her tight t-shirt. Her wide hips, her thick juicy legs, shown off to full advantage by her snug Capri pants. Her feet in flip-flops, toenails painted green to match her eyes. He realized with a start that he was checking out his mom as if she were a potential date. A quickly suppressed thought said that maybe there was more to his love of big women than he had thought. He ushered her into the lobby where he had stashed his luggage.
“Hey Dean, who is the hot chick for whom you got flowers and candy?” she asked.
He laughed and said “Only the most beautiful woman in my life,” presenting her with the flowers and candy. Her intense blush was so rewarding. She grabbed her gifts and they headed out to the limo she had rented, bellhop in tow with his luggage. They were soon in the limo and on the way down 95 South to Fort Lauderdale.
Rosalyn had planned this trip by car, so they could have some time in private to catch up. It was a great ride. Rosalyn settled in, opened the chocolates, and asked him to fill her in on what had been going on recently. As he talked, he found himself more and more distracted by watching her eat the chocolates. The way she savored every bite. The way she licked the errant bit of caramel off her lips and fingers. He realized with some amazement that it was turning him on. Watching the blissful look on her face as she ate was turning him on. He wanted nothing more than to feed her himself. To feel her tongue swirl the chocolate off his fingers. To lean in, kissi… He banished the thought quickly. What was going on with him? Why was his mother all of the sudden a sexual being to him.
She told him about what she had been through, a bout of depression, then acceptance of her size, and eventually a celebration of her size. She was not trying to gain weight, but she was not trying to lose it either. “Whatever will be will be,” she said.
Dean found that he liked her attitude and definitely her celebration of life. It was great to see his mother so happy. They rode, surrounded by their own chatter; he ended up on the floor of the limo, giving her a foot rub. He was enjoying giving as much as she enjoyed receiving. Unbelievably, he felt himself start to harden in his pants, he was careful to keep her foot away from the swelling in his pants. The look on her face, almost rapturous had him so turned on. He felt himself being swept away in a river of emotions that he really had no desire to resist.
The five-hour trip to Fort Lauderdale flew by. Soon they had arrived at the hotel, the Galleria Doubletree, and they were quickly checked in. They arrived at the room to find that it had a queen-sized bed instead of two full sized beds. Dean was about to protest, when Rosalyn said laughingly, “Oh, its all right. I would love to sleep in a bed with such a handsome hunk of a man.
