Written with a beautiful, plus-sized friend in mind...

Lucky

Kat was a very lucky girl.

She told herself this as she pulled her new fucktoy by the belt into her dimly lit office and locked the door. It was after hours, and no one else was in the building. Maybe a janitor or a couple of students, but definitely no one else. She was too wet to care, anyway.

The other night, as she was unbuckling his belt for the first time, he had told her that she possessed a ‘wicked’ smile...that even in complete innocence, there was something behind the slight misaligned curl of her upper lip that said I’m a very naughty girl inside and if you’re fortunate enough, you’ll find out. And she was preparing to show him yet again just how dirty she was. Her eyes hungrily soaked him in as he removed his shirt, revealing a lean, toned body that made her salivate. She locked into his gaze, her hair falling irresistably over one eye, and produced her trademark smile for him as she ran her fingers over his nipples, down his ribs.

His lips covered her face, neck and ears with gentle but forceful kisses, and it took her back to just a week ago, when after a happy hour and one too many margaritas, her own lips had loosened considerably, letting slip the fact that she didn’t want a boyfriend or have time for one currently, but was in dire need of a good fuck. It had been over a year, and her fingers, favorite toy, small collection of porn movies...nothing was doing it for her anymore. She wanted to bite into flesh...to be bitten into. She yearned for strange, strong hands to thoroughly explore her breasts and ass. She desparately needed to moan and pant and scream and sweat and grind as a warm, throbbing intruder pried its way between her thighs. And in a single tequila-fueled, run-on sentence, she had let everyone at the table know this. In a slightly more subtle way, but the point was still driven home.

Snapping into a moment of sobriety, she had come to realize what she just revealed, felt all the blood rush to her face, and made up a sudden, lame excuse to leave. Her co-workers simply raised their eyebrows and laughed, quickly changing the subject to their own escapades, but he – the one that she had eyes for, the one that had entered her mind countless times in the last few months as she lie naked in her bed, fingers tickling her wetness – he got up and followed her to her car. He was generally a silent type, but once out of sight of the others, in a single bold move – probably a result of the tequila as well - he had leaned in without warning and kissed her, telling her that he would be happy to fill that spot. Her crotch had tingled as she tried to find a word, but he just smiled and kissed her again, hands on her hips.

And she found it amazing that here they were now, his hands again on her hips, but this time they were holding her snug against his crotch as he slowly ground into her, their warm, slick tongues dancing around one another. Cornered up to her desk, she pushed him back playfully and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her little black sundress. Her sleeves gently fell over her shoulders as she pulled it open, inviting him to suffocate in her cleavage. He graciously accepted, pushing her back to lie flat on her desktop. She worked her arms out of her sleeves and tossed them behind her head; with a quick but slightly clumsy move, her lacy bra was unhooked, and she felt her breasts spill free to her sides. He laid into her, warm chest against her stomach, and cupped them, burying his face in between. Her head rolled back towards the ceiling and she closed her eyes, listening to a delightful mix of slurping, sucking, and quiet moans.

Kat had never had a lover pay so much attention to her breasts...as well as the rest of her body. She had always been a little self-consious of her size. Yes, she would admit it...she did have lovely, ample breasts, but they were unfortunately (to her, anyway) proportional to the rest of her body. Not that she was obese, and she absolutely hated the word ‘fat’, but she was definitely...she felt that rubenesque was a much classier description. But in the modern world of toothpick-sized girls everywhere one turned, this did little to help mask the fact that all the stupid men she currently knew – both taken and single - looked straight past her to her skinnier, daintier friends.

That is - until that night. Seeing as she was a bit too inebriated to drive and way too embarrassed to go back to the table with her friends, he had offered to give her a ride home. She wanted to see his place, however, and he gladly took her up on it.

Upon entering his apartment, she was surprised to find a couple of paintings of...well, largish women...beautiful women, hanging on his walls. He noticed her curious look, and explained to her that he had always found a more filled-out shape fascinating and sensual; that there was something a little more feminine in that bit of extra flesh - such as the extra flesh that she happened to carry around. Flattered but not buying it, she rebutted, claiming that all men preferred tiny women and this was proven by media everywhere, that her extra weight was unattractive...and he said he could prove it to her. She asked how, and he leaned in with a long, deep kiss. He proved it as his tongue lightly traced her neck from her ear to her collarbone, ending with a soft nibble. He proved it as he massaged her fleshy hips. And as if that wasn’t enough, she felt the proof as he guided her hand to his hardening cock.

She fondly remembered touching it for the first time as she sat here presently on her office couch, lips wrapped around his swollen head. She recalled how thick it felt, stretching against the denim...the length, trapped within his boxers, trailing down his leg...the satisfying warmth and taste as she placed it in her mouth. She had always been facsinated by the feel of a man’s equipment – such a condratiction, rigid granite covered by soft, pliable skin – but his felt different. As if she alone were responsible for making the blood fill it up to its full extent, pushing the veins out until they seemed like they would pop. She now explored this living landscape of ridges and valleys once again with her tongue...the warmth of her breath and slick saliva the catalyst of his labored breathing and sighs. She lovingly pulled and massaged his heavy balls, gripping, stroking and swallowing his thick shaft, and with every tickle from his head on the back of her throat, she imagined what this beautifully vulgar limb would feel like as it penetrated her once again, stretching her open.

Needless to say, she loved her pussy. She loved the way it looked - lips shaved, small trimmed patch on top - despite her insecurities about her body as a whole. She loved the way it made her feel, whether she was lazily stroking it or frantically rubbing it to climax. But most of all, she loved the way that he looked at it, like he could think of nothing more beautiful, nothing that could better ease his craving. He liked to tease it, too....kissing around her inner thighs and stomach, barely brushing it with his nose or lips before moving away. He had tortured her for several minutes, telling her to beg for it. Feeling a little shy and awkward – but enjoying every bit of this game – she had giggled and squirmed and contorted her face until she couldn’t take it anymore, and practically pleaded for his face between her legs. He finally obliged and spread her open, furiously lapping away....it hadn’t taken her very long to cum as she arched her back and lifted her ass up to him, offering full access to do whatever he pleased.

She badly wanted to boast to all her co-workers –those passive-aggressive, skinny little bitches who felt it their duty to tell her she needed to lose a little weight before another man would be interested – that while they were still drinking at the bar that night, retelling the same old boring work stories, she had been getting fucked silly. That as they were finishing their next to last round, she was probably waking his neighbors in the midst of her third orgasm. That by the time they were stumbling through their front doors, wrecked and dreading the alarm that would wake them in a few hours, she was lying on the living room floor, breathless and moaning with him deep in her ass.

Unfortunately, she could do no such thing, since he had a girlfriend.

On top of that, the girlfriend worked in the office next door, and was either an acquaintance or close friend with most everyone in their same circle. She knew that the two were on the outs, though...office rumors spread fast and often, and she was aware of their constant fights, how she badmouthed him behind his back, her flirtations with other men...and obviously, his recent interest in herself. She had no idea why he kept her around...her guess was that she was a good lay, but facts were facts, and she was simply a condescending bitch.

And skinny as a rail.

She felt he was a nice guy that deserved better. And what was more...he was a nice guy that thought she was hot. He deserved her - her lips, her arms, her neck, her breasts, her fingers, her legs, her tongue, her ass, her tummy, her juices, her moans. But in order to keep the peace among the circle and within the office, she had to resign to keeping her new found fuckbuddy under wraps. Within time it would come out, as all office gossip does, but for now she would have to keep her naughty secret to herself.

In the meantime, though, that secret was pounding into her with delicious force, filling her over and over again, pelvis clapping against her cheeks, balls rhythmically slapping into her lips. Here in her place of business, behind closed doors, her dress was lifted up to her back, legs spread wide, ass high and vulnerable in the air, willingly accepting his engorged, slippery cock. Her hands tightly clutched the back of the couch – the same couch that her boss and co-workers sat on during their weekly committee meetings - her face buried deep within the cushion to muffle her cries of pleasure as he leaned forward, pumping a little harder, stomach and chest flat against her back, cupping her swaying tits. On that very same couch that his bitch girlfriend had sat on just yesterday, annoying her with the most umimportant bullshit, she reached between her legs and vigorously rubbed her clit, spreading her moisture onto his thickness as it mercilessly hammered into her. She felt his stubble brush against her naked shoulder, a pressure on her nipples as he squeezed them between his fingerstips, the onset of a powerful orgasm swelling from deep within her pussy, and she thought of how her officemate - who she just heard walk into the building, probably to pick up a report – would react if she were to hear a shuddering cry from down the hall. And as his teeth bit a little too hard into her neck, she smiled a wicked smile to herself, and thought –

I am a very lucky girl.

Wow. Can I stop my diet then?!! Nice!!

What a great story, HJ! Nice to see all shapes and sizes represented positively.

Thanks! All shapes and sizes should be represented positively.