Copious love handles, huge melons, and big girl booty smothering,
Whether your night ends in wanking or you score lucky very late into the evening at a club, you never can tell, thought Owen.
The temptation was a couple more drinks, making it a binge session with Cameron and worrying about the hangover tomorrow. This wasn't shaping as a good 'one night stand' evening.
Cameron was thinking along similar lines. The smallish pool of females was thinning too quickly, and it was only 10.00 pm.
A couple of obvious lezzo pairings, the already-taken girlfriends in close embraces with their chosen guy and then in the corners; the strange off-limits chicks; the ones whose body language states:' We are having a girl's night', then add the fussy girls who eyes take you in and say:' no not my type' and then bitch to each other that they need a fuck and there are no guys available here.
Well, hello, girls; the basic equipment and the willingness to operate it are standard, yet you wouldn't know it, you choosy bitches, thought Owen.
"Hey Cameron — one for you, mate — at the far end of the bar getting drinks right now."
Cameron took in the young woman, basic BBW, not what he had planned for his eyes a couple of hours ago.
"No, mate," he said with chivalry, "I won't stand in your way. You go for it. You enjoy a plump, voluptuous cuddle."
The BBW had — not being politically correct here — a tad too much booty and flop-flesh, even for a butt lover like himself, thought Owen.
The prospect of skin rolls sitting on your face, not tonight. Not ever!
He scanned the venue again one last forlorn time before calling it quits.
"Hey, check out her… her…girlfriend," from a very animated Cameron.
Owen ignored him. The prick was trying to get a rise out of him. Well, Owen wasn't getting suckered in — BBW's hanging out together.
"Seriously mate, her girlfriend is hot, booty hot, peachy butt; Wow; amazing;" Cameron was using language that he rarely used.
Owen turned around, and he didn't even take a second glance at the BBW next to this classy chassis leaning over the bar and talking to the bartender.
This was butt built for touching. Nature constructed for male gazing and male fondling.
A woman who defined butt.
She could sit on his face anytime, starting immediately.
She was safely flirting with the bartender, the tease; he was a known open gay.
The divine booty turned to listen to her BBW.
Her face was cute, too. Just sometimes great butt or a fantastic chest on a girl got combined with a scowling full-on dyke look, and the fantasy was over.
The fantasy remained in overdrive. She was adorable. The innocent girl next door looks. Shoulder-length brunette hair, soft features, doe-eyed brownies.
Yes; all the clichéd phrases, but they were apt; she had sexy eyes; real heart-melting; and super cock raisers.
Her breasts were complimentary like that extra treat: the free bottle of wine at a classy restaurant.
For some reason, a snatch of the bible came to mind. The only time as a teenager, he had read a passage twice as he made to read the good word every evening, cover to cover.
It was the Song of Solomons; 'your breasts are two fawns, the twins of a gazelle.'
Her breasts didn't look like fawns; it was just poetic and lyrical, and that was the mood her breasts set his mind in — tranquil anticipation, the thought of nuzzling in between them. Smelling their fleshiness, touching their girly tenderness, licking their nippled firmness.
Ah, dream on boy.
Nature was playing unfairly here. Two reasonable-looking guys and one stunning girl.
They both wanted the same chick.
But who was going to handle the pudding BBW?
They both wanted the jaw-dropping catch. They both knew the two girls would be suspicious when one of them engaged the BBW while the other small-talked butt heaven. Suspecting they both wanted the brunette.
"She's playing safe," said Cameron, "she knows she won't be approached out with her BBW."
"How to get her?" said Owen
"Let's use reverse psychology; both of us will focus on the big booty girl; ignore the stunner; but first we toss for who gets the brunette," summed up Cameron with: "Remember the adage of my dad; you don't look at the mantelpiece when poking the fire."
Cameron won the toss.
Owen thought, 'Oh well, I'll just shut my eyes and poke.'
BBW Lauren lit up like it was her birthday, Christmas, and numerous lost Valentine's days all rolled into one.
Hell, she never got any male attention, let alone two reasonable guys, and both completely ignored stunning Chelsea.
They both wanted to buy her a drink.
Owen and Cameron brought Lauren drinks.
Chelsea, the brunette stunner, was hanging in on the scene but lost for words. This wasn't how it worked with her and guys.
She dominated.
She rocked.
She ruled.
Hello guys, this is moi.
Leaning forward, her hooters as sexual signage.
Of course, Lauren invited both guys back to her place. She was excited. She was actually thinking she would make a choice here.
Cameron and Owen were in the back of the Uber, with Lauren between them.
Chelsea was cooling it in the front with the driver.
She tried conversing with the dude, but he was distracted by something behind him.
Chelsea checked the side mirror. There was no tailgating or cop car, and the road was empty.
She put down the sun visor, hoping there was a mirror; there was.
Well, you are a desperate tart, was all that crossed her mind as she took in what the driver had been watching for a while.
Lauren was double sampling. She was getting a bit of smooch left and right, and male hands were feeling for her love mountains under her top.
By the time Lauren got everyone a drink and put on some music in the apartment, Chelsea was beyond stupefied belief.
What the fuck was going on?
She was dancing alone.
Lauren was squeezed indecently between two guys. One pushing into her expansive crotch zone and the other into her voluminous, generous booty.
Chelsea made her choice. She spat the dummy, threw a tantrum and left really pissed off, giving the: 'Oh, I have an awful headache 'excuse.
Owen and Cameron were past the point of creating plan B, so they were trapped in BBW Lauren's plan.
Who, putting it politely, was ravenous for man in any shape or form: she hadn't had any since a guy who was too drunk to remember on New Year's Eve, and well, it was now early September.
The guys were both under her on the couch. Luckily, there were two; one would never have supported this sexual juggernaut.
She was stripping their gear off. Rapid and hasty to get their equipment exposed.
Her top and bra were off, and the guys took in true mammaries as they were jointly face smothered with over ample flesh.
Christ, their hands found a different and unique way to hold, squeeze and shape breasts every few seconds.
Her stiff pink nipples just demanded licking and sucking, and boy, did she respond to the effort put in.
The guys got excited working an udder each while Lauren's hands worked up a pecker, left and right.
Thankfully, Lauren was under them on the lounge soon after but still dominated proceedings.
Owen's cock was in her mouth, and Cameron's pecker got the titty job of its life. Her hands pressed together her huge marshmallow fun bags on both sides of his meat. He was wrapped like a sausage in the spongiest of softest fresh white bread rolls.
It was so good he had to be careful his sauce didn't jizz out just yet.
His cock disappeared in a cleavage shute.
Owen was pushing deep into Lauren's receptive mouth. She shaped her lips to the task perfectly and faultlessly giving head.
She was a sucking, slurping; she was a slurry machine of building delight. Applying pressure with her lips and occasionally flicking and licking with her tongue.
Cameron rolled Lauren's jeans and panties off but was confronted by heavy resting thighs.
Luckily, he knew feminine geography because her pussy was buried in there somewhere.
Currently hidden by thigh roly-poly flesh and chubby dumpy plumps of skin folds hanging down from her stomach.
He burrowed in parting flesh like Moses did the Red Sea, and there were plenty of the standard fem-parts to get excited about; a prominent clit and fleshy pink lips and crinkly, light, partially shaved brownish pubic hair.
She was moist and pliant and moaning. A perfect combination.
"Ooh, yes, ooh, yes," Lauren enthused.
Cameron thought what the fuck and just started fucking her.
He spread his legs; well, sort of, if you could actually say he did that and was in.
Their separate parts locked as the last piece slotted into a jigsaw puzzle, full-on satisfaction.
She was actually a warm pussy ride.
Her enthusiasm amped the pleasure.
Lauren was moaning and looked so goddamn happy to be fucked that it made the fuck really enjoyable for Cameron too.
"Ahh, ahh, ahh, " she panted.
Cameron shot off his load in excited waves somewhere between her fleshy folds.
She had a smile as wide as her booty.
Then Owen; asked to dog her, and he took Lauren's pussy from behind.
He had quickly developed a bit of a secret big-butt fetish, and it was exposed here.
Sure, he was in her slutty slit as a second cock, but it was warm and inviting, and she was writhing around in wibble-wobble pleasure.
A guy likes that; it confirms he's doing the job for the lass and having fun.
Cameron was rooted and relaxing, as Owen enjoyed dogging this BBW.
Cameron was thinking: Variety is the spice of life. Lauren was an unexpected variety, alright.
Lauren was having the night of her life. Christ, she was only twenty-two, and this double action might not happen in the next twenty-two years.
She was going to make a night of it.
"Aaggh, Aaggh," she grunted as her massive butt cheeks jounced.
It was the flesh-in-flesh moment, lots of flesh, copious flesh, overabundant flesh, the flesh feast of life, and Owen was addicted to hefty-mega wobbly booty.
And her tits swayed like hot air balloons — overfilled.
He wasn't going to tell Cameron this, straight to his face.
Still, as he came over Lauren's dimpled butt flesh, he was secretly planning time with this incredible big-bottomed girl alone.
Somewhere between those heinie rump buns lay her crack.
He was, after jizz release, male overconfident; I can handle Lauren.
Handle, well, flesh handles and an avalanche of cascading wobble.
Then sexual trepidation smacked him across the cheeks as Lauren face sat him.