Copyright© 2003 by Carlos Malenkov
"These jeans make my ass look big!"
Her voice came from somewhere behind me. I was standing in the aisle next to Women's Wear. The lady posing in front of the full-length mirror at the entrance to the dressing rooms seemed to be talking to herself. Other than me, there was no one in her immediate vicinity. And yes, the jeans were a bit tight on her. In fact, she was literally bursting out of them. Bottom-heavy, she was, and her ass would look big under any circumstances, tight jeans or no. It didn't just look big, it was big -- big and lush and pear-shaped. That ass, that huge beautiful ass, was the fulfillment of every erotic fantasy I had ever had.
She was looking back over her shoulder. She was looking straight at me. She had caught me staring! My guts turned to jelly and I started to turn away. Where was the nearest exit? But... was that a hint of a smile on her face? A mysterious smile. Yes. Making fun of me? Or...
She was beckoning toward me. Me? I pointed at my chest and she nodded vigorously. Well, why the hell not? I slowly made my way toward her.
"You. Yes, you. I saw you looking at me. What's the matter, guy? Never seen a fat bottom before?"
"Well... none quite as nicely shaped as yours."
She began laughing, then slapped me on the back. It damn near knocked me over. She was several inches taller than I was, and had to outweigh me by easily a hundred pounds. Just that big ass of hers alone must weigh nearly as much as I did. But I felt no pain. In fact, I was gawking in open admiration at her bouncing breasts as she laughed. Her blouse was a bit tight, too.
"So, what do you think? Should I buy the damn jeans?"
"Oh yes, definitely. They fit you like a... I mean, they show off your figure to perfection."
"You admire a classically voluptuous woman, do you? That being the case, I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Fiona."
She paid for the jeans, and we agreed to continue our discussion in a more congenial setting. For example, over dinner.
"Best meal I've had in ages." Well, not actually the best, but at least as good as I'd gotten in the fast food joints where I'd been eating all too often lately.
"I enjoy cooking for friends." She was humming under her breath as she cleared the table. "Would you like some dessert?"
I'd like that luscious pear-shaped ass for dessert. Now, how to phrase that delicately?
"Why thank you, Fiona. Do you have anything sweet?"
"Chocolate fudge and..."
"And, well..." She blushed. "I know this is only our first date, but... "
"But I just can't wait. I'm sorry, but I seem to have fallen in lust with you. Why don't we have each other for dessert?"
"You just had to pick the most expensive item on the menu, didn't you?"
That big ass of hers looked even better in the flesh. Bare-naked flesh. It felt good, too. I couldn't keep my hands off it. Those round, juicy globes were a work of art.
She had what was once called an "hourglass" figure -- full breasts tapering down to a shockingly slim waist, then flaring out to wide, generously upholstered hips framing that glorious ass. Looking at her rear view in the flickering illumination of the bedside lamp, I could almost picture her as a mythical centaur, with a humanoid torso growing out of a massive equine rump. Those wonderfully sculpted haunches! Now she was down on hands and knees, and those magnificent globes, like twin moons, completely dominated the heavens. Later, hours later, as we lay in each other's arms, she told me she measured a full 56 inches at the hip, that is to say, around the ass.
That ass. I couldn't keep my hands off it. I savored the soft, cushy feel as I fondled it. The warm, fleshy resilience of her buttocks as I entered her from behind (which turned out to be her favorite position). The freshly powdered scent of wanton femininity tickling my nose when I rubbed my cheek against her plush bottom. I wanted it, all of it. I wanted to plumb its depths. I had a sudden raging desire to fuck that ass.