Romance: Three Stories of BBBW Lust and Love (BWWM, BBW Interracial Romance, Erotica, Alpha) (3 page)

When he’d filled up on all I could offer
and just when I thought I was finally getting chance to rest my body was
flipped from the sofa and bent over it; my knees firmly on the ground as my
breasts squashed up against the leather and my face met the back of the couch.
My skirt pulled down over my large behind and the skin instantly slapped
causing another sharp sting that made me whimper. He must’ve liked the sound of
my moans because he suddenly started smacking my ass in a playful manner,
telling me to moan for him which I couldn’t help but oblige to. I was enjoying
every second of it; every sharp sting that bounced off my smooth, large behind
rippled through me and made me ache for more. Even though I was throbbing with
a sore sort of exhaustion in the front of my body I still craved something more
from Tom and he must’ve known it because it didn’t take him long to unveil his
large member and press it up to my ass; running the pre-excitement over me and
moistening my tighter hole so that he could begin to enter.

As my cheeks were spread apart with his
manly hands I braced myself for a jolt of pain followed by a flurry of
pleasure. He made it quick and dived into me; made me take inch and every inch
of his manhood as he continuously slapped my ass until it was red with a
pleasurable pain.

I took it upon myself to run one of my
hands over the front of my body and even though my sensitive spot was worn out
and ached from post-pleasure play I couldn’t help but rub onto myself as I took
Tom’s member.

My hand was soon leaking with fluids as
I instantly began to burst once more; him being inside of me made my entire
body shake with passion as my skin was stretched out by his pulsating shaft. I
didn’t know how much longer I could last; my whole body was shaking as he ran
his hand through my hair and pulled back on it; his thrusts getting deeper and
his grip getting tighter. I could feel him trembling as his groans of joy
reached a level equal to my own; he was close.

Pulling out at the very last moment and
shooting a clear shot right over my back I could feel the warm fluid as it ran
back down over my skin and through the crack of my cheeks which were now retracting
after they had been stretched apart by the long shaft of Tom. With nothing left
in me I hit the leather and began to relax my body which had taken more than
its fair share today.

I hadn’t had a workout like that in a
long time; I didn’t know what this meant for myself and the large lady lover
but I knew I wouldn’t ever regret looking in a mirror again. It was possible to
be a big, beautiful brunette and still have the sex life of a slim-waist
blonde.

***

Story three: Diner
woman

January 21
^st
1982

Dear diary – today I got a job at the
diner! Miss Cathy was kind enough to offer it me seeing as I can’t pay rent
this month. She’s even given me a full months wage in advance to cover that…
she’s always been so gracious when others have looked down on me. We might have
made some advances in ‘equality’ but being dark-skinned in Texas was still like
being in the twenties or something. I just hope I can make my life here work.
I’m a good woman, I went to school and I pay my taxes. I have the right to walk
with my head up high just like any white woman would. I’m just so glad Miss
Cathy saw past the colour of my skin – she always complimented my smile. She
told me seeing my smile in her little diner made the place feel like a
five-star restaurant.

January 27
^th
1982

My first day off since I started – thank
the lord. It’s been odd, it’s been a little cruel but despite that it’s been
fun. Miss Cathy wasn’t joking when she said she’d work me as hard as any other
girl, I’ve found myself serving the most vile, racist of truckers and then the
next minute I’m wiping up their mess as they snort at me when they leave the
table. I expected as much though and I don’t hold a grudge against Miss Cathy
for not shouting at every guy who did that – she’d have no customers left!

There was one incident though; I don’t
know his name but he was devilishly handsome. One of the regulars that Miss
Cathy warned me to stay in the kitchen during his short-stay as he gobbled up
his meat on meat burger started hurling abuse when I stepped out to the counter
to grab more plates. His words were vile, his food spraying across the table as
he spat and slurred my way. I’d never experienced that level of abuse before
and I could feel my eyes welling up at his sharp tongue.

Suddenly a man in uniform – navy or army
I’m not certain, stood from his seat and slammed the racists head down into his
food. He rubbed his face in his own spit then let him go. I couldn’t believe my
eyes, I admit I was scared but in a strange way it charmed me. The man In
uniform looked towards me as I stood shaking behind the counter and then back
down to the pig who seemed dazed from having his head smashed into a table. He
spoke out -
“Apologize to the lady who worked hard preparing your food or get the hell out
of this place and never come back.” With that the man left and the guy who
defended me lifted his hat in a bowing manner and then exited too.

Miss Cathy told me his name was John,
she didn’t know much more but she said she’d served him a few times whenever he
was coming through town. It was the first time anyone had ever stood up for me
that way.

Oh I hope I do see him again. His blue
eyes and dark hair sitting atop that pale body. Please let me see him again,
I’d very much like to thank him.

February 6
^th
1982

It’s been ten long yet peaceful days
since I saw John. Thanks to his little show there have been no more remarks
from new or old customers. Miss Cathy informed me a few of her friends heard of
the show and they were all coming in to see the hero himself. She said it was
good for business so I guess everyone won. I felt like I was starting to belong
somewhere – although I was sleeping in a tiny room three doors down from the
diner and I spent all my time working. Still, it was something that I was
enjoying. I’d even made friends with a few of the regulars. Housewives who
loved to share explicit stories about their husbands with anyone who would
listen, it was nice to feel like a part of a community for once… I think I
finally found a place to call home.

The diner was hardly the place for
ladies; these were women of the working class. Most of them did stay at home,
most of them cared for children yet without fail at lunch-time everyday they’d
find an escape and open their not-so-lady-like mouths as they swayed on bar
stools and turned into teenagers again. Miss Cathy really did make this place
feel like home – and not just to me.

It was on this particular evening that
someone brought up useful information about John.

“I know that boy.” A tall, skinny-blonde
with a strong Texas accent and who looked far too classy broke out with the
announcement to the whole of the diner.

I’d never seen her in the diner before,
I didn’t see her come in with anyone either. Her proud presence and wealthy
look made me come to the conclusion she was only there to talk about the ‘hero’
that she claimed to know.
Suddenly everyone was asking her thousands of questions to which she replied -
“Calm down ladies, one at a time please. Let me explain how I know the hero –
my husband.” When those words left her mouth I felt like a thousand needles had
ripped through my skin.
Why did those words hurt me so? I didn’t even know the man…

March 1
^st
1982
Today I am filled with rage.
Mrs John, blonde and rich came into the diner today looking to stir up more
gossip about her husband just when everyone had stopped speaking about it. She
spouted out a thousand stories of their wealthy life together and how they were
‘always kind to the maids’ who happened to be dark-skinned. She even went as
far as to accuse her own man of sleeping with a ‘black’ behind her back but
she’d forgive him because her maids are ‘obviously whores’
There was something she said that made me want to spit in her drink. Something
so insensitive and harsh.

“I don’t know if these maids expect John
to have five wives like they do where they’re from but here in the U.S we have
dignity.” Miss Cathy had to hold me back from throwing hot coffee in her face.
I’ve never hated someone so much – why would John be married to her?
I don’t believe her at all. I know he wouldn’t do that… I know he is a man of
compassion. I’ve seen it. 

March 10
^th
1982
Dear Diary…
Today the most marvellous of all things happened. I’m shaking as I write this
in your tear-soaked pages. These are not sad tears though, they’re of joy and
wonder and amazement.

As I worked my shift, laughing at the
local gossip and exchanging conversation with Miss Cathy, there sat at one of
our tables was John. When my eyes met his my heart stopped for a second, how
long had he been there? Was it really him? So many questions rushing through my
mind and before anything made sense he smiled at me. John smiled… at me.

Before I could gather myself he walked
over to the bar.
“You know, I hear there’s this thing called food that you serve here.” It was
an incredibly smug sentence he threw my way, not that I minded in the
slightest. His piercing eyes and charming smile made every woman in the diner
swoon, suddenly all eyes were on us and John looked like he wanted it that way.

“What would you like?” It’s all I could
really respond with. It was almost instant, I wish I’d said something different
at first but the outcome was still wonderful.

“Well first of all I’d like a burger;
secondly I’d like to know what time you finish tonight. Any order would be
fine.” There was a universal gasp throughout the diner.

Mutterings of ‘isn’t he married’ and
things similar were spoken quite loudly throughout although none of this seemed
to phase the handsome, white male standing in-front of me. I wanted to say yes
right away but there was enough stereotypes going around thanks to his wife.

“No sir, I don’t think that wise. I’ll
get your burger for you.” I tried to walk away as I felt my heart flutter
inside but John reached over and grabbed my wrist. It wasn’t aggressive, it was
gentle but it kept me still long enough for him to continue his pursuit.

“May I have a reason as to why I can’t
visit you when you finish?” The reason appeared to be pretty obvious to
everyone except John.

“Because sir, you’re a married man.”

Suddenly that harmless expression on
John’s face turned to one of rage and anger. He turned his head to a silent
room and began to yell out so that everyone in the diner could hear him.

“You may have heard a few things about
me these last few weeks but I assure every single person here that I am a free
man. The woman who claims otherwise is called Amy and she is my ex-wife. We are
divorced, make of it what you will but I was never a happy man with her. She only
looks for gossip and money, all else be damned to that woman.” He turned his
head back to me once more –

“And now that it’s all settled Miss, I
would very much like to see you later.”

I agreed without hesitation. He should
be here any moment now… I’ll write to you tomorrow.

March 11
^th
1982.

I think I’m in love… Is that ridiculous?

Last night John arrived almost an hour
after I finished work, I thought he wasn’t going to show but just as Miss Cathy
made me that comforting banana milkshake and served me a plate of fires – there
was John. Stood in a suit, looking as handsome as ever and with a bouquet of
lilies. I forgave his lateness instantly.

Miss Cathy left me the keys to lock up
and the two of us stayed in the diner seeing as we already had food cooking.
Sat at one of the tables and staring back and forth to each other the room was
soon filled with laughter and questions. I wanted to know everything about my
hero and he wanted to know everything about me. I’d never felt such a
connection, such a spark with a man I’d only just met. He went from being a
stranger to the only thing I could think about in moments.

One of his questions stood out more than
most –
“Why Texas, I don’t mean to offend but we don’t exactly hold a good record when
it comes to race.”

“Because I’m not afraid of proving
myself.” It was all I could respond with – it was the only answer that really
meant anything.

I think John liked my response – I’m
sure he did because moments later he was reaching over the table, half of his
suit landing in mustard and embracing my lips with his own. I’d never felt
anything like it, that jolt of passion that tore through my insides and left me
breathless as he pulled away.
“I’m sorry ma’am, I just had to steal a kiss from you.” I didn’t mind. I didn’t
mind at all but I found myself frozen with all kinds of thoughts. What about
his wife or former wife? What about the town, I didn’t want John face the wrath
of others who wouldn’t agree. There was so much to be discussed but it wasn’t
the time nor place.
I let John take one more kiss from me after we stood from our seats to say
goodbye. He was passionate, soft, his lips like cherries brushing against my
own on a hot summers day. He was like a drop of alcohol, that craving to give
yourself over and drink the whole bottle until it fills you with warmth but I
knew better than to do that and I knew better than to give myself a way to any
man even if it was John.

Still… I think I love him. That first
kiss just set off these feelings that I still can’t stop. As I write this down
I’m sat on my bed with one hand on my heart just trying to make sense of it
all. I can feel the blood in my body rushing in all kinds of directions and my
heart just keeps pounding harder and harder. I don’t know what I am to do if
this continues.

Oh John, please be kind. I really wish
for this to work; for both our sakes.

March 14
^th
1982

John didn’t show up for a few days. I
thought I may have misplaced my feelings but then when I turned around to serve
my tenth cheese burger and fries of the day I was welcomed with that handsome
face and those gorgeous eyes.
“I’ll have whatever the lady recommends.” He spoke out like a true gentleman so
I just placed that other guy’s order at his front and began to chat away to my
man.

I explained all my fears and why I’d
been so distant on our date. John had a lot to say – too much. I couldn’t get
the entire story between serving milkshakes and washing dishes but it goes a
little something like this…
John married into a wealthy family but felt trapped when his wife’s dad forced
him to work at his company. John saw his only escape as serving in the army or
marines or something like that. He left everything behind and went to serve our
country which gave the man a lot of backbone. He came back a proud man who
wasn’t afraid to get a divorce despite the south and all its old ways. John was
just trying to do what made him happy but that blonde ex of his wouldn’t have
that. She was out to put an end to him unless he came back to her but she failed
at every attempt. Now her latest trick was to go around the town acting like
absolutely nothing happened between the two of them. She told everyone how
great he was to her, claimed he was her man and all kinds of lies. I felt
terribly confused by it all but John really made me believe. I knew he wouldn’t
lie to me.

It was at that point that she came
walking into the diner. She stomped on over and interrupted our conversation -
“What do you think you’re doing here with this black girl. You should be at home
John.” I had to bite my tongue as I listened to that woman insult me. I was
used to that kind of treatment from some but every time she pulled on his
jacket and tried to force him out of his seat I just wanted to jump over that
counter and beat her with a ketchup bottle.

Everyone in the diner looked as if they
were about to step-in but there was also this look of worry on everyone’s face.
This woman was known, really known and she was not the nicest of people or the
most forgiving. She seemed to know everyone who was anyone and I don’t think
there was one soul brave enough to do a thing despite her being to become
hysterical and violent towards John.