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Message-ID: <39455asstr$1038305402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Joris Huysmans" <jkhuysmans@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Fat Girl At The Mall (BBW, MF, feet)
Date: Tue, 26 Nov 2002 05:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Warning: may have something to do with sex.  Do not read if you are now or 
have ever been 18.


I manage a shoe store at a big mall.  There's not much point in describing 
any of it further than that because hey, all malls are alike, right?  Except 
the ones with more closed than open stores, but we're not there yet.  So we 
get a decent amount of traffic, and girls of all ages, although I've started 
to notice a funny thing which is that they get younger and I get older.  
Doesn't matter, really, I guess, since you can check them out at any age 
(though somewhere below 18 you're starting to be a perv) and it doesn't 
really matter because you're not going home with any of them.  Trust me, 
that's the reality of working in a mall, you can look all day but nobody 
with a nametag on is going home with any of them.  People date their 
coworkers, but nobody goes home with the girls they see walking through the 
mall all day long.

Now, one of the innovations in how girls dress that I really like, I mean 
really like, is this thing of wearing the low cut jeans that practically 
ride right on your hips, and wearing a top that cuts off a little above that 
point, and leaving a couple of inches of exposed belly and hip.  I see that, 
the top of a butt peering out from those low-riding jeans, and I can just 
imagine sliding my hand down that belly and into those jeans, roaming 
through fur until you find the slippery spot deep down.  You see a really 
cute girl dressed like that, and it's enough to get you through the rest of 
the day and most of the night, pounding your meat at the thought of her.

Then you see something that kind of puts you off the whole idea.  Like a few 
weeks ago, I saw this fat chick dressed like that.  Jiggly belly and fat 
round haunches sticking out between her top and her pants.  Doesn't she know 
that she's showing enough for three chicks?  Moooo, who needs to see that?

But the funny thing was, after I saw it, I couldn't help think about her.  
And in a funny way, I kind of came to respect her for showing off the latest 
fashion even when it was so unsuited to her.  It was fearless, you had to 
give her that.  That was a pretty good word for her whole attitude, 
actually--there she was, round and sturdy, and she just showed it off like 
every guy would want it, and if they didn't, too bad for them.  I even kind 
of thought about her for a second as I was beating off that night, though I 
quickly put her out of my head and concentrated on real sexy chicks.  Skinny 
chicks.

I saw her again a couple of days later, dressed the same way, and this time 
I really paid attention.  It wasn't just seeing that big slice of her fat 
again, but the way she moved--her big buttcheeks rising and falling with 
every step like a couple of cams, her fat round tits sticking out proudly, 
and most of all the cheerful look on her dark face--was she Hispanic?  
Middle eastern?  Hard to say, but she had luminous dark eyes glowing in a 
setting of olive skin.  Maybe that was why she seemed so proud and unafraid, 
she belonged to a culture where her size was still prized.  Where guys 
dreamed of burying themselves in her mounds of flesh, of taking her from 
behind and watching that ass work up and down like cams with their cock in 
it.  Jamming it into that massive ass which I could see the top of, circling 
an arm around that strip of fat tummy flesh as they pounded away at her 
steaming snatch.  These were the things I dreamed of unashamedly as I pulled 
my pud two, three times a night and then again in the morning.

It got to where I started watching for her every day, disappointed on the 
three or four days when I wouldn't see her, almost tongue-tied when I did 
see her go by, inventing errands to follow her to another store before I'd 
race back to my own.  If I saw her turn toward the food court I'd take my 
dinner early, like 2:15, and sit at an angle to her where she wouldn't see 
me watching her.  She never seemed to notice, thank God.

It was a busy day when I hardly had time to think about her, let alone sneak 
into the back and give myself the relief of a hurried jackoff into a 
discarded shoebox.  And then suddenly--she was in my store, looking at some 
sandals.  And there it was, that strip of flesh going all the way around 
that I dreamed of running my arms around, feeling the softness of her belly 
squishing in my grasp, the warmth of her butt as it pressed up against me.  
That was what I was dreaming, but at the same time I was thinking, how, how 
could I make it come true?  What could I say that would get an invitation to 
dinner or something accepted--"Gee, for a fat girl you seem to have a really 
positive self-image?"

In the end there was only thing a guy in my position could say--"Would you 
like me to see if we have that in your size?"  Hoping that she wouldn't take 
that as a size insult, believe me, I have something else I would love to see 
if it fits.  She nodded and I hurried back to pull it from the shelves, 
praying she wouldn't leave in the meantime (as many people do, sending us 
back just to get rid of us).

She was still there.  I brought two sizes out and said "We really should 
measure first."  She sat down and kicked off her present pair as I knelt 
before her, admiring her thick thighs in her shorts as they tapered down to 
a plump little foot, chubby yet delicate little toes.  I took her foot in my 
hands and guided it into the measuring device, then adjusted it.  I gazed at 
that perfect foot, then followed it up and looked into her eyes.  She was 
watching me, she knew I was a weirdo, she was about to call a cop.

She said, "I've seen you in the food court.  You always sit by me."

I was stricken.  I could say nothing in my own defense.  There was only one 
thing to do, and that was show her my absolute devotion.  I lifted her foot 
up, those delicate olive-pink toes painted in dark red, and I began to suck 
the second toe, licking it and kissing it.  She adjusted herself and I 
watched the tummy jiggle as I kissed my way up her leg.  She shifted 
downward as I reached her thighs, spreading them as I buried my face in 
their vast thickness.  I reached the triangle at the top of her trunklike 
thighs and tried reaching inside to the scratchy paradise inside.

"We better go somewhere out of sight," she said.

In seconds I had the store closed and locked, and we went into the back.  
She lifted her shirt over her head and I saw what that little strip of tummy 
flesh had promised, the vast jiggly belly and the fat tits hanging over it 
in a white bra.  Then she slipped the shorts off and revealed her bare ass.  
She bent over the table, sticking it out to me.  But I wasn't ready to fuck 
yet.  I knelt down in front of those massive hams and spread them wide, 
licking her hot steamy snatch as my nose nestled in her asshole.  I licked 
as she got wetter, the tangy scent of a dry pussy giving way to the musky 
nectar of a flowing wet one.  Then, my face covered in her juices, I worked 
my way up to her asshole, and licked it too, squeezing my face between those 
big beautiful cheeks as she reached behind and rubbed her clit, her 
vibrating hams rubbing up and down the sides of my face.  She came and 
clamped my face tight, and I was ready to smother there, tongue in her ass, 
chin in her wet slit.

A second later she let me go and, turning around, hopped up on a table, her 
tits still hidden in her bra but her belly and hairy snatch exposed wide for 
my pleasure.  I dropped my pants and opened my shirt as I climbed on and her 
pussy seemed to suck my cock deep inside her.  The table creaked under our 
combined weights but she seemed to hear only her own moans as I fucked her 
hard and her legs wrapped around me, holding me as if she would never let me 
loose.  It was only a minute and then I came, shooting my seed deep into 
her.  She relaxed for a minute and I stepped back, and then as she lay there 
I saw doubt cross her face for the first time.  Was I going to fuck the fat 
bitch and then dump her, she seemed to be thinking.  I had to think of a way 
to let her know that this wasn't the case, that I was in love.

Finally, it occurred to me.  I knelt down before her again and, spreading 
her fat thighs with my hands, began to lick my own cum out of her fat, 
sloppy pussy.  From that position, as my mouth filled up with my own 
slippery jism, I admired the sliver of her tummy that had started it all for 
me, and all the bountiful womanhood that it had promised.







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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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