Anna's Seduction: One Night of Pleasure (BBW Erotic Romance) (2 page)

“You didn’t have to lie.  Your feet are not big.”

“They are for someone my height,” she protests.

“What are you 5’5”...5’6”?”

“5’6,” she replies.  My mother’s 5’8” and she wears a size 5!”

“Let me guess.  She’s slim and pretty, too?”

Anna nods her head and confirms my suspicions where all her insecurities stem from.

“I’m sure that she’s not better looking than you.”  I hold up my hand to stop her denying it.  “But this is not about comparing you to anyone else.  This is all about you.”

I take the shoes from the box and she gives a gasp.  They are red, have four-inch heels and are very sexy.

“Try them on,” I tell her.  “Lucky I bought a slightly wider fitting shoe because I knew you’re fuller figured, but it’s your fault if they don’t fit.”

She takes her shoes off and I notice that though they are cut neatly, like her fingernails, there’s no polish on her toenails.

“You told me that you don’t wear heels, so I bought these for you to take with you when you leave.  It will be entirely your fault if they are too small.”  I kneel in front of her and slip the shoes on her feet.  “A half size bigger would have been better, but they look great.”

I sit back on my heels so that she can see them for herself.

“Oh my God!  They’re so pretty.”  She lifts her feet, one after the other and admires the effect from the side.  “I would have never tried them on in a shop.  Never.”

“And yet they look so good on you.”  I stand up and have to look up slightly to stare into her eyes as the shoes make her 2” taller than me.  “If you’d had polished your toenails or had a professional pedicure, they would have looked amazing.”

“My feet and my ankles are so...chunky.” She lifts her left foot off the ground and smiles as she rotates her ankle and admires the effect.  “I can’t believe that they look so nice in these.”

“They suit your body,” I tell her sternly.  “Your ankles
are
shapely.  If they were thinner, you would have been in danger of twisting or breaking one or the other each time you took a step.”

“You’re right.”  She laughs.  “That won’t have been fun.”

“Walk with me.”  I slip her arm through mine and we head to the front door.  I can tell that she’s walking a bit flat-footed.  “Place your heel down first and then your toes.”

We walk back to the chair and then back to the door a couple of times.  With each step I feel her relying on my arm less and less as she gains her balance and her confidence grows.  Finally I say, “Now walk for me.”

I sit down and watch her as she walks to the door and back.  When she makes to sit too, I hold up my hand.  “Keep going.  I will tell you when to stop.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“It has everything to do with me fucking you,” I interrupt her.  “I need you confident enough to decide,
Fuck this!  I’m not going to sleep with you.  I can find a man to fuck me for free.
”

“Like that’s going to happen.”  She swings around and walks to the door.  She smiles as she approaches me again.  “And does that mean you’ll give me back my money.”

“No chance.”  I smile back.  “Now take off your dress.”

That stops her in her tracks.

“I want to see what you’ve been hiding from the world.”  I get up and brush the hair off her neck to press soft kisses against it as I cup her breasts through the material and give both nipples a hard squeeze. I press my semi-hard cock against her ass. “See what you’ve done to me already.  You have more power than you realize.  Claim it!”

“Okay,” she agrees and raises her hands to undo the zip at the back of her dress.

I do it for her, but let her move the dress off her shoulders herself and then step out of it.

I turn her around so that she’s facing me.

Her dark blue lace underwear is almost the same colour as her dress and a matching set.  I know lingerie—these are expensive but do nothing for her.

“Just look at you.”  I’m a breast man.  I couldn’t resist freeing her big breasts and nibbling on her nipples in turn until they are sticking out like mini hard-ons from her chest.  I pull the legs of her full panties upwards over her hips and ass until they look more like a high leg or a thong.  “Leave them like that and walk for me.”

I stroke my now rock-hard cock as I watch her strut her stuff, timidly at first but bolder and bolder with each step.  I’ll never understand women, I decide.  I fucked more than I can count, but they’re still a mystery.  How could this woman not think that she’s sexy?  She’s big, yes, but there’s no sign of cellulite yet on her body.  Her strawberry-tipped breasts are just made for a man’s hands and mouth, and lubricated they would make a nice, warm nook for his cock.  Her hair falls to her ass but doesn’t cover it completely.  The sight is as sexy as hell.  An ass-fucking isn’t part of my plans for the night, but it can’t be ruled out.

If my wayward cock wants to claim both holes, I’ll have to give him what he wants.

I watch her until she finally turns at the door on her heels like a supermodel.  Her hips are in full sway as she comes back to me.

“Now you’re ready.”  I unsnap her bra and quickly roll her panties down and off her legs before I take her by the hand and lead her to the en suite shower of my ‘work’ bedroom.  “You smell clean and fresh.  I know you had a shower or bath before coming over, but I want to bathe you again.  I want to put my mouth all over you and I want to taste only you.”

“Okay,” she agrees and quickly twists her hair into a knot to keep it dry.

I strip down to my boxers.  I had a shower less than an hour ago.  I’m not going to have another, but there’s no point in getting my clothes wet.

I would strip completely but I don’t want her running scared when she sees my cock.

“Good.”  I tear off the plastic wrapper off a new bath sponge, pick up a bottle of shower gel and show it to her.  “This is un-perfumed and hypoallergenic.  It won’t irritate your skin even if it’s sensitive.”

***

I
stand without saying a word as he first uses the detachable shower head to wet my body and then the sponge to lather me with luxuriant suds.

He’s so engrossed in the task, I let my eyes feast on him.

He’s shorter and wider than I expect him to be, although I knew from the pictures on his website that I have been drooling over that he’s totally buff.

Being overweight, I always think that I need a tall, strong man to dwarf me and make me feel feminine in comparison, but Roger’s bulk makes me feel small.

Roger Frickerson.  Frig her, son...I’d rolled my eyes when I saw it on his website.  It’s a perfect name for a man who fucks for a living. And if you don’t know, ‘roger’ is an English slang term for a man having sex with a woman.

I don’t think that it’s his real name, do you?

There’s something cute and cuddly about Roger although he’s all hard, rippling muscle.

“Your skin is flawless,” he says as he polishes my shoulders.

“Thank you.”

I tense as he moves down to my breasts.  My mother always tells me that I should have them reduced.  Hers are small and pert.  I get mine from my father’s side of the family.  “They are like two bowling balls, Anna.  I’m surprised that you haven’t yet knocked yourself out accidentally.”

“And your breasts are gorgeous.”  He rubs the sponge a couple of times around each of them before rubbing it repeatedly on my nipples.  Though it’s soft, my nipples peak—I can’t tell if it’s because I’m watching him do it or because of the soft friction.  “I will enjoy sucking on them as I fuck you.”

He said that he will make me confident enough to decide whether or not I sleep with him, but he seems to be doing everything to make sure that I do.

He swats as he moves down to my lower half.

“Open your legs for me.”

I’d finally built up the nerve to have my first wax yesterday.  Beauty salon employees are always so perfect I find it off putting.  I always think that if some shrewd businesswoman ever opens a salon that employs, and caters for, larger women, she will have more business than she can handle.

I had my first real look at my vagina afterwards and it’s not a pretty sight, is it?

At first I part my legs just a little, trying to keep my clitoris hidden.

“Wider,” he commands and spreads them wide himself.  “There will be no hiding when I’m fucking you, so start getting used to it.”

I close my eyes as he rubs the sponge back and forth between my legs.

“Although, I don’t know why you’d even want to hide this plump...juicy clit from me.”

“Ah,” I moan as he strokes it teasingly with his bare fingers for a few moments before moving on to my thighs and lower legs.

He then turns me around and does my back quickly and then again stoops to do my legs.  He comes back to my behind and I feel his bare hands caressing my cheeks.

“You have a glorious ass.”

Then his soapy finger circles my anus.

I tense in shock.

“Relax,” he breathes in my ear.  “I’m not ready for it yet.”

As he turns back on the water and rinses me off, his words play over and over in my mind.

I’m not ready for it yet.
Is he thinking of anal?  We hadn’t discussed that when we’d talked on the phone.  Would I be able to handle it?

He turns the water off and grabs the folded white bath sheet that he must have placed on the shelf next to the shower cubicle in anticipation.  He envelopes me in it completely as you would a child after bathing them.

“No!” I scream horrified as he suddenly lifts me bodily.  “You’ll hurt your back.”

“Shush!” he scoffs as he strides with me in his arms to the bed.  “I can lift you with one arm.”

Tears fill my eyes as he lays me down and I rapidly blink them away.

He couldn’t have done or said a more perfect thing.

I had agonized about paying him almost what I earn in a month for a single night.

I would pay him double for this moment, making my ultimate fantasy come true.

My mother had joked when I was fifteen and already outweighed her by twenty pounds, “If you continue like this, Anna, a man will need a forklift to hoist you.”

Her comment has stayed with me ever since.  When I see couples holding hands, kissing or making out it doesn’t bother me as much as when I see a man lift a woman.

It’s something I’d longed for but thought would never happen to me.

“Hey now,” he says looking at me with concern in his eyes.  “You didn’t think that I would make you fall, did you?”

“No.”  I smile and dismiss my mother from my thoughts.

“Good.”  He grabs a bottle of lotion from the bedside table and starts to apply it to my still moist skin.  It’s the same shape as the shower gel and obviously the same brand.  Again, I can’t read the name on the small, discreet label without my glasses on, but that only tells me that they must be very expensive.  Only luxury items don’t feel the need to scream their names at you from a distance.  “This isn’t perfumed either.  It’s light and will be instantly absorbed.  I just don’t want you to dry out.”

I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of his hands on me.

Sometimes there are things you miss that you don’t realize.  Up to the age of eight my mother used to moisturize my skin and give me a light massage after my evening bath to help me sleep and have pleasant dreams she’d said.  Then my father, who I resemble too much to ever be pretty, left my mother for his nineteen-year-old PA and she started to criticize everything about me from my big bones to my ‘whorish’ red hair.

Okay
, I decide, as he turns me over and does my back,
that’s the last time I will think about you tonight, Mother!

He massages my shoulders more firmly than when I do it after a hard day’s work and I feel the tension leave my body.  He does the rest of the back of me, before he palms my behind and kneads my cheeks firmly long after the lotion he applies is gone.

“Now,” he says as he rolls me off the damp towel and straightens up.  “What is it going to be?  You want me to just hold you in my arms for the night or you want me to fuck you?”

Why can’t you just do what I’ve paid you for? 
I think in embarrassment.

“Fuck or cuddle?” he asks again and I know that he’s not going to let me get away without giving an answer.

“Fuck me,” I respond and know that there must be at least a tinge of red in my cheeks.  Saying it out loud makes it sound so sordid.

“Good girl.”  He smiles and reveals a length of black silk in his hand as if by magic.  “Now I want you to just lie back, eyes closed and let me pleasure you.”

“I don’t know if I want to be blindfolded,” I demur as he makes to tie it around my head.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he says, and ties it tightly but not uncomfortably.  “It will help you release your inhibitions.  I want you to feel, not think.”

“Okay,” I agree and lie back as he pushes me onto the bed.

He lifts my arms and wraps my hands around the wooden posts that form a section of his headboard.

“Leave them there,” he instructs and then I feel the mattress shift as he moves off it.