Cathy and Wanda
© and By Hunter S. Murtaugh 1998

"So how was your weekend?" Wanda asked as she peeked around the
corner of Cathy's cubicle.

"So-so," Cathy sighed. "And yours?"

"Pretty good, girl," Wanda smiled. "Now what made yours so so-so?"

"Same old same old same old," said Cathy, trying to manage a smile.
"Didn't go out. Didn't do anything. Didn't have any fun."

"Child, I think you just don't know how to have fun." Wanda smirked
wickedly. "Believe me. Maybe I just need to show you!"

Jane, their supervisor, appeared around the corner. With a wink,
Wanda ducked into her cubicle. Cathy sat there, suddenly noticing
herself blushing at Wanda's comment. She wondered what exactly Wanda
was talking about. Cathy wondered if Wanda had meant that in a
sexual way. They sometimes talked about sex -- both being large
women, they sometimes discussed dating and men, comiserating on
society's views of women built like they were. Cathy had come to the
conclusion early on that Wanda had sex on her mind most of the time.
She just didn't know if her coworker did all the stuff she hinted at
doing. If Wanda was referring to masturbation, well, Cathy did it as
much as anybody. Then it occurred to her that Wanda might mean
something else. Cathy fought the urge to squirm. She wanted to
pursue the matter, but this wasn't the time or place.

"So, everybody have a nice weekend?" Jane asked as she stopped near
their cubicles. Both women nodded yes, but only one really meant it.
"Don't forget that we need to get all this data entered by Friday,"
Jane reminded them over her shoulder as she walked down the hall.
"That may mean some overtime, but I'm sure we can get it done."

"What you talking about Śwe' for?" Wanda whispered as soon as Jane
had turned the corner back toward her own office. "You know we're
going to be doing all the work."

"Boy, she makes me mad!" Cathy sighed as she took off her sneakers
and slipped into her work shoes. "We do all the work and she gets
all the credit. Maybe that's why she says Śwe'."

Wanda chuckled loudly in agreement. For the next several hours, all
that could be heard from the two cubicles was the click of keys and
the drone of two different radio stations played so softly that
neither woman could actually make out the songs or commercials.

But both women were thinking. Cathy was thinking about her weekend.
She'd gone home on Friday night so tired she thought she'd drop.
She'd stopped and gotten a pizza on the way, and her evening had
consisted of eating the whole pizza and drinking four or five beers
in front of the television. She'd woken up about 2:30, turned the
television off, and crawled sleepily off to bed.

This fat-phobic culture can make 2:30 on a Saturday morning a lonely
time when you are five foot two and weigh 235 pounds. She had
glanced at her dim figure in the mirror as she undressed in the
dark. Her long blonde hair caught the light filtering in through the
blinds from the street lamp. Her pale skin seemed to glow. Once
naked, she had stood in front of the mirror. Cathy ran her hands
down over her broad breasts and her big belly. She was merely plump
from her tits up. Her boobs weren't that large, but they stretched
way back into her arm pits. Her weight was concentrated mainly in
her ponderous belly. It stretched her out, seeming to pull her
forward with its sagging mass, hanging down over her mons and
meeting her thick thighs. She recalled with a mix of horror and
amusement how that courier had asked her once when she was due.
Okay, so maybe she did look pregnant, but in her opinion, the big
moons of her large ass and big, sturdy legs seemed to nearly give
balance to her shape. People had always told her she had a pretty
face, but over the years, as her belly had stretched and taken on a
life of its own, she had felt less and less pretty. No matter how
hard she had shrugged off the ignorance of others, she still felt
the sting of loneliness. She hadn't had a boyfriend in years. In
fact the last guy she'd dated finally had to admit that he was only
interested in her sexually because of her weight. She had hated him
when he ended the affair: His admonition of the one-dimensional
nature of the attraction had been a new experience, and one she had
difficulty accepting. Why couldn't he have said that he wanted to
break up because of her weight rather than in spite of it? But she
remembered the sex they'd had with fondness.

Especially now. Cathy breathed a sigh. She hadn't had been with a
man in a long time. Even now, she noticed that she was fondling her
own breasts unconsciously. She watched herself in the mirror now as
she stroked her boobs and tweaked her hard, puckered nipples,
sending jolts of electricity through her body. A warmth was growing
insider her belly, and her right hand moved to caress her bulging
gut. Slowly she circled the mass with her hand as her left hand
continued feeling and kneading her tits. Cathy moved to the bed and
flopped backwards onto it. She continued her play, her right hand
gradually working its way lower and lower to the blonde fur and then
into the wet crevice of her cunt.

The lips slipped apart easily, and Cathy spread her legs farther to
get more fingers into herself. She flicked her clit with a thumb and
slowly finger fucked herself to a wet orgasm. She lay still for a
few minutes as the tingling drained from her body to be replaced by
a peaceful stillness that matched the quiet of the small hour. Then,
her lids growing heavy and her heart slowing, Cathy drifted down
into oblivion.

"Hey, girl, you okay?" Wanda was saying as Cathy emerged from her
sexual day dream. "I'm going for a soda. You want anything from the
machines?"

Cathy was startled by Wanda's voice, the more so because of what she
had just been thinking about. She could feel the blood rushing to
her cheeks, neck, and chest as she blushed deeply.

"What're you thinking about?" Wanda smiled. "No, don't tell me, I
think I know!"

"Oh man," Cathy stammered. "I guess I really zoned out there."

"I bet," Wanda winked. "Can't say as I blame you, though. I can
think of several other things -- or people -- I'd rather be doing
right now!

"So you want something from the machines or not?"

"S-s-sure," Cathy managed, fumbling in her purse for a dollar bill.
"Some chips and a Coke, please. Thanks."

Cathy watched as Wanda walked off toward the cafeteria, her large
ass cheeks rolling with her gait, her beefy calves jiggling with
each step.

In a way, Cathy admired Wanda's wicked mind. In fact, she had taken
immediately to her when they met. Cathy was interviewing for the
position, and had just come out of Jane's office when she noticed
this tall, statuesque black woman in a very nice outfit. Wanda had
smiled and introduced herself, and Cathy knew right away that she
wanted the job.

And Wanda had certainly made her feel at home from the first day on
the job. The two of them had become quite a team, suffering through
project after project together. Cathy knew she would have hated the
job if Wanda hadn't been there. Wanda was in her early fifties, and
Cathy looked up to her almost as a mother figure at work -- with one
notable exception.

Cathy's mother had never talked about sex. Wanda seemed to have
little else to talk about most of the time. True, Cathy had been
taken aback at first with Wanda's wicked sense of humor and broad
hints about her sex life, but that was temporary. In fact, she had
to admit to herself, she often looked forward to coming in to work
on Monday morning just to hear about Wanda's weekend. Cathy had
never been this close to anyone who lived the kind of lifestyle
Wanda said she did, and Cathy found it exciting. She didn't mind
living a little on the wild side -- even if it was vicariously
through Wanda.

But Cathy also envied Wanda her success with men. Wanda was, after
all, an extremely striking woman in her early fifties -- tall,
medium complexion, a pretty face, a dazzling smile, and an
exaggerated hourglass figure topped by the largest breasts Cathy
thought she'd ever seen. Indeed, Wanda's breasts were often the
target of leers by the guys in the office, and Wanda seemed to eat
up the attention. She often wore outfits that showed off her deep
cleavage and her broad butt. Her nickname around the office -- at
least among the guys -- was "Wicked Wanda."

"Here you go," Wanda said, thrusting the chips and soda at Cathy.

Cathy jumped a little as her thoughts burst like a bubble.

"Thanks," she said. "I don't know why I'm so hungry. I ate pretty
well this weekend."

"Not as well as I did, I bet!" Wanda retorted, licking her lips for
show and breaking in to a broad grin. "Mmm mmm!"

Cathy blushed and waved Wanda away. Alone again, Cathy popped the
top on the soda and took a sip. She returned to the data entry. This
project was a killer, but they could get it done.

For the next couple days, Cathy worked hard, but her days were still
punctuated by vivid sexual day dreams. Some were like Monday
morning's -- simple reruns of masturbation the night before. Some
involved having sex with old boyfriends, or with guys in the office
whom she liked. But one troubled her very much: One featured Wanda.
It was weird because she had never had any lesbian inclinations that
she could recall, and certainly had never participated in anything
like that. But there it was, big as life, a no-holds-barred
30-minute beauty of a lesbian fantasy. Right in the middle of
Thursday afternoon. It was as strange as it was beautiful, Cathy
thought as she walked on shaky knees to the bathroom to try to
regain her composure. Once in the stall, she sat down hard on the
toilet and put her head in her hands.

God, she thought, what has gotten into me? It's been too long since
I had a man!

She sat there for a few minutes trying to clear her head. Visions
from the day dream, however, kept creeping back into her mind. She
kept seeing flashes of thought -- a hand, a red mouth, those
enormous brown tits, Wanda's face smiling up at her from between her
legs.

After about 10 minutes, she had calmed down enough to stand up
again. Cathy splashed some cold water on her face and dried her face
carefully, examining it closely in the mirror for signs. Signs of
what she didn't know -- she was just looking for something. Right
then and there, she resolved to ask one of the guys in purchasing
out. Dammit, she needed a man, and he was a nice guy -- certainly a
good friend. He always asked how she was, and paid attention to her
even when she was with Wanda. They'd even danced a couple songs at
the office holiday party. She figured she could exorcise this demon
dream with a good, hard fuck. And that was what she was going to do.

As she approached her desk, Cathy saw Wanda's head pop up over the
top of the cubicle.

"You okay?" she asked, swiveling in her chair to face Cathy. "I was
just about to come looking for you."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Cathy said. "Just a little overworked, that's
all."

"I hear that," Wanda said. "Look, we've been working real hard this
week. So let's do something fun this weekend. Why don't you come on
over to my place Saturday for dinner? Maybe afterwards, we can go
out and do a little dancing or something."

Cathy was petrified. She liked Wanda well enough, but in light of
her recent thoughts, she wasn't sure that this was what she wanted
to do. To her horror, though, she heard her voice say yes. It was
like her brain had been switched off and somebody else was in
control. She wanted to shout NO! as she heard herself agree to show
up about 5:00, and then watched in terror as her hand wrote it down
in her planner.

On the drive home that afternoon, Cathy began trying to come up with
reasons why she suddenly couldn't make dinner at Wanda's. But every
time she tried to say something, it came out all wrong. Or something
sordid from her day dream would flash before her eyes and she'd get
upset again. By the time she got to the door, she thought she was
ready to call Wanda and cancel, but by the time she had her coat
off, all she could think about was getting in the shower. As the
water ran down over her quivering form, Cathy once more experienced
the day dream of Wanda. This time, she was less horrified, and more
interested in just why this had popped into her head. She was in the
middle of trying to arrive at an objective opinion about the
impulses behind such a fantasy when she realized that she was
masturbating furiously with both hands.

Cathy felt more excited than she had in a long time. She had bent
way over to let the water hit her big ass and cunt directly as her
hands, thrust back between her thighs, worked at her dripping box
and clit. Her left fingers plumbed the depths of her cunt while her
right palm frigged back and forth over her erect clit. She could
feel water from the shower entering her and running back out, and
the sensation of the stream of water hitting her very exposed ass
hole made her come with an intensity that she couldn't remember ever
experiencing before. It felt like a bomb had gone off between her
legs and the rest of her body was filling up with smoke. She brought
herself off three more times before she started running out of hot
water. She stepped dripping from the shower and, drawing a towel
around herself, went into the kitchen to get a couple beers and then
into the bedroom, where she collapsed to drink and masturbate some
more.

The next morning when she arrived at work, Wanda gave her a quick
glance.

"Girl, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you got yourself some
last night," she chuckled.

"Not really," Cathy said, immediately wondering what it was about
her that was different. Sure, she'd stayed up most of the night
getting herself off over and over again until the sheets were soaked
and the whole apartment smelled of her sex. Sure she had downed a
whole six pack and even used one of the bottles to fuck herself
with. But how would Wanda know? Did anyone else notice?

Cathy couldn't sit still all day. In a constant state of arousal,
she must have gone into the bathroom at least six times to
masturbate. Wanda had even asked her if she had a bladder infection
the way she was going into the bathroom every hour or so. Cathy had
just smiled and said that no, she must have eaten something that
didn't agree with her the night before. Wanda just smiled and said
that all she needed was some good home cooking.

Somehow, five o'clock arrived, and Cathy headed for her car. She
waved to Wanda out the window as she passed the front door of the
building. Traffic was pretty heavy in this part of town, and it was
stop and go all the way to the four-lane. Cathy was still feeling
aroused, despite all the masturbating she'd done over the last few
days. She felt so aroused, in fact, that she surprised herself by
rubbing her crotch through her panties right there in the car. In no
time, Cathy was really getting into it. Twice, the guy behind her
had to honk his horn because she wasn't really paying attention.
Just as her second orgasm began to subside, she looked to her left
to see a man in the passenger side of a truck next to her looking
down in amazement as she diddled herself. She quickly pulled her
skirt back down and pulled out, just squeezing through the
intersection and onto the on ramp for the four-lane before the light
changed.

But that close call didn't stop her -- it excited her even more. She
raced into the apartment, clothes flying everywhere. She repeated
her shower masturbation ritual from the night before and took a big
bottle of wine to bed with her. Once emptied, the bottle became a
big glass dildo with which Cathy fucked herself again and again
before passing out.

Cathy spent Saturday morning in bed with the bottle and some baby
oil. Her sexual day dreams were running nonstop now, but she liked
the feeling of being a little out of control. It was different. And
her orgasms were changing. They were getting deeper and more
intense. She was achieving them sooner and with much less
stimulation than before. It was like her whole body was becoming
retuned to a new sexual state of being. She even had an orgasm
playing with her nipples -- a real first for her.

Cathy eventually tore herself out of bed and ran some errands. She
only masturbated once in the car on the way to the store, and was
surprised at the variety of cucumbers a girl could find at the
grocers these days. Each of the cukes made her think of things she'd
heard friends say about women preferring them to men -- and the
reasons. She chose a large one and headed for the checkout counter,
making sure to select a few other items so it would look like she
was planning to make a salad rather than to masturbate the afternoon
away. Then it was away home with her shopping. One quick fingered
come once she'd parked the car and she was inside, washing off her
big green lover and pulling off her clothes at the same time. Her
sweats went into a pile on the kitchen floor. Her bra ended up
hanging on a door knob in the hall. She kicked her panties off as
she entered the bedroom.

Naked in front of her mirror again, Cathy ran the cuke across her
neck and down the front of her. Its icy touch thrilled her cleavage
and made her nipples jump to attention. She watched herself with
newfound interest as she caressed her breasts with the big
vegetable. Its hard smoothness reminded her of the small number of
cocks she'd sucked and fucked in the past. So much so that she just
couldn't help sticking the thing in her mouth to see how much would
fit. It was bigger than any cock she'd ever had -- much bigger. And
that excited her all the more. If only she'd have had a boyfriend
with a dick this big, she thought, she'd never break up with him!
She watched as inch after inch of the cuke disappeared into her
mouth. She moved it in and out, giving it a blow job as best she
could.

She remembered how Don, one of her former boyfriends, had gotten her
to give him her first blow job. It hadn't been easy for her to take
that musty-smelling cock in her mouth at first, but she had found
that the oral stimulation really pleased him -- and excited her as
well. Soon, she would meet him at the door to kneel and take his
member between her lips. She had turned into quite the slut for him,
only to be dumped later on. She remembered how he would fill her
mouth with his hot, salty seed. She remembered as well how Don used
to beg her to masturbate for him. Once he'd even brought a cucumber
over and rubbed it around on the front of her, trying to ram it into
her cunt, but she had been too shy. Now, however, she felt more
ready than ever to plumb her pussy with this hard, shiny gift from
nature.

"This one's for you, Donny boy," she laughed as she licked the tip
of the cucumber and walked to the bed. Reclining on the bed, Cathy
ran the cucumber down between her spread breasts, down across her
big gut to the tangle of blonde public hair. She could feel the heat
building between her legs as she slowly parted her thighs and probed
tentatively with the cucumber around the fat lips of her cunt and up
over the hooded head of her clit. The cucumber felt cool and smooth,
and the juices that were flowing from her inner depths made it easy
to sink the first few inches in. As she pushed it farther into
herself, she felt the walls of her vagina begin to stretch with the
cuke's thickness. It was a little painful -- kind of like when she'd
lost her virginity -- but if she went slowly enough, it felt
wonderful, like thet dimensions of her pleasure were expanding as
the dimensions of her vagina slowly increased around this bulky
tool. Her cunt expanded and enveloped more and more of the cucumber,
and Cathy could feel only a couple inches protruding from her thick
cunt lips. She was amazed at just how much of the thing she could
take inside herself.

She began to slowly pump the cucumber in and out of her sopping
cunt, building speed gradually to allow her stretched muscles a
chance to acclimate to this monster probe. Almost immediately, Cathy
became aware of a fullness that was building deep in her belly. As
she picked up speed with her self-fucking, the fullness spread
through the lower part of her body. Suddenly, she felt a spasm
wrench her body. It was so strong and so unexpected that she had to
cry out. She could feel her cunt contracting spasmodically on the
cucumber as she continued to pump away at herself. A second and
third jolt ripped through her body, and she kept screaming. A fourth
spasm arched her back and brought forth a moan of utter delight.
This time, her cunt clamped down so hard on the cucumber that it was
actually squeezed out and lay on the bed between her parted thighs
like a big, wet, green turd.

Cathy lay very still on the bed, her fat body bathed in sweat, the
wet sheets sticking to her back, her ass, and her thighs. Little
rivulets of sweat ran from the folds under her tits and at the backs
of her knees. This last jolt had been the strongest, most satisfying
orgasm of her life, and it was taking her body a while to come down
off it. The room seemed hazy, and she felt tingly all over, like she
had just woken up after a long, delicious sleep.

Suddenly, she looked at the bedside clock out of the corner of her
eye.

"Five o'clock?" she gasped. "Shit! I'm going to be late!"

Despite her body's insistence at staying where it was, Cathy swung
her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. She took the cucumber
into the kitchen and stood nude in front of the sink and washed it
off. She felt naughty walking around her apartment naked, carrying
this big cucumber with which she had so recently pleasured herself.
Popping the cuke into the refrigerator on the way by, she went into
the bathroom and emptied her bladder noisily. Her cunt still was
buzzing and it felt stretched and open, ready for more. She tried to
masturbate in the shower, but her clit was still too tender to
touch. Cathy was surprised how sensitive her nipples were. It seemed
like they gave off little electric shocks each time she touched
them. She desperately wanted to massage her breasts, but they were
just too touchy. She washed the juices from her thighs and the crack
of her ass and dried off as quickly as possible.

She glanced at the clock as she pulled out her clothes in the
bedroom. Five thirty? Shit, I'm going to be REALLY late, she
thought. She couldn't get her afternoon masturbation session out of
her mind, and she had to fight the urge to pull the cucumber out of
the fridge and whack off again. Instead, she pounded a beer. It made
her feel a little more mellow, and she managed to get dressed.

Cathy remembered that Wanda had mentioned going dancing after
dinner, and she felt like knocking them dead tonight. Cathy selected
her sexiest pair of panties -- big enough to cover her broad ass,
but cut high in the hips so they plunged down each side of her
bulging belly and into her steamy crotch. She chose a bra that
pushed her normally separated breasts up to form cleavage and a
low-cut blouse that made her look more endowed. Don had bought her
some black thigh-highs, which she hardly ever wore, but they looked
naughty and sexy as she took them from the drawer and rolled them up
her plump calves and over her dimpled knees. Cathy selected a tight
skirt that came to just above her knees -- when she sat, the tops of
the thigh-highs came into view. She finished off the outfit with a
hot pair of patent leather spike heels -- another gift from Don --
and she was out the door.

