Taco Bell Creep

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A slovenly weirdo falls for the checkout girl.
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"Hi, can I help you?"

Herman couldn't answer. He was mesmerized. His eyes were moist moons, his jaw was slack, and his palms were suddenly sweaty. He was literally struck dumb by the divine creature before him.

"Welcome to Taco Bell... Can I help you?" she repeated.

Herman stuttered out an "I... I... I..." but could get no further. She was unbelievable!

Under five feet tall, she was a mixed girl with a pug nose, freckles, and a boyish set to her jaw. But there was nothing boyish about her body. Absurdly large, firm tits strained against her plain black Taco Bell shirt, and he could see a pleasing curve to her backside to match. She was a pocket goddess, a tiny half-black Venus.

She tilted her head impatiently, looking at the awkward, overweight white man in front of her. What the hell was wrong with this guy? She tucked some of her kinky hair back into her Taco Bell baseball cap and waited.

She was starting to think that maybe he was special needs when he blurted out, "A number eight, crunchy. And... and a coke."

She scrunched up her cute little nose as she punched the buttons. What a weirdo! She had tagged him as soon as he walked in with his stained pink t-shirt stretched over his big belly, his camo cargo shorts, and his white socks pulled up all the way. Oh, and off brand tennis shoes.

And those large deer-in-the-headlights eyes. As she glanced up from the keypad, she caught him staring at her tits.

Her stupid, ridiculous tits. God how she hated them. She had been a tom-girl from way back. She hated girls and their gossipy bullshit. She had always hung out with the guys. Wrestled and fought. Blew shit up with firecrackers. Cussed and spitted and farted with the best of them.

And she had always been accepted. One of the guys, just how she liked it. Then, half way through her sixteenth year, the traitors had shown up. The mosquito bites on her chest had started to grow. First just little mounds that were tender all the time, then they grew to the size of lemons, then oranges, and by the time she turned seventeen she was lugging around these swollen grapefruits!

And everything had changed. She was no longer one of the boys. Her large firm knockers could not be ignored. The fact that she had also grown a round, perfect bubble-butt was just icing on the shit cake.

The boys got nervous and agitated around her. They stopped telling her raunchy jokes, and started making her into a raunchy joke. Slowly but surely she was ejected from the sacred fraternity of boys. And it broke her heart.

Instead, they wanted to touch her. Squeeze her. Kiss her. But how could she let them? These were her friends, her buddies! They were like brothers to her. She would never let them touch her or see her naked, she was just too ashamed of her silly cartoon-like body. She felt awkward and top-heavy and ugly.

Then it had happened. Her best friend Mikey had tried to kiss her. She'd made a joke of it, to try to play it off, but he had been insistent. He'd kept pawing at her boobs and slobbering all over her neck, and when he reached for her crotch, it was too much. She slammed a knee into his crotch and ran. Her stupid fucking body had almost gotten her raped! By her best friend!

So for a year now she had been pretty much friendless. She still couldn't stand the company of girls, and boys were no longer an option. She had spent her eighteenth birthday last week alone and depressed. She'd sat in her apartment and said "Yay. Now I can vote and go to war," to an empty room.

And now here was this ugly fat white dude gawking at her carnival boobs while he thought she wasn't looking.

Soon the creep's food arrived and he shambled off to eat. She forgot him almost immediately as she took a drive-thru order.

But he did not forget her. Good lord no. Her image was forever burned into his retinas. Those perfectly shaped, gravity-defying tits! Jiggling ever so slightly with each motion. Rising and falling with each breath,

And that cute little serious face! Not quite angry, not quite sad... he couldn't figure her out, but he knew she was one in a million. She clearly didn't know how perfect she was. A true diamond in the rough.

He sat munching his tacos, knowing he had plenty of time. His daughter Liz had just started early morning weekend lessons at a nearby ballet studio. It was pretty prestigious and thus worth getting up early. His ex, the wicket bitch of the west, had dumped the duty on him, but he didn't mind. More time with Liz was always good.

Suddenly his thoughts were scattered by the appearance of the dusky little goddess. She began doing morning prep for the dining area. Spraying and wiping down the tables. Cleaning all the large windows. Sweeping the floors. Herman was in heaven.

He watched with hot eyes as the hot little tom-boy went from table to table, spraying and bending over to vigorously wipe them down.

Each circular motion set her massive tits jiggling. On her tiny frame, the effect was mesmerizing. Although she wore an unflattering uniform shirt, there was no hiding the enticing sway of firm tit-flesh.

Since her shirt was tucked in, he could see she had a slim waist, and although her work slacks were clearly Wal Mart junk, they could not hide the swell of her hips and her taut, muscular ass cheeks.

Once, she bent over to scrape something off the floor, and he was treated to a full-on view of her perfect ass. It rebelled and pushed against containment in the cheap polyester blend with a sensual vengeance. It too jiggled ever so slightly with each motion of her upper body. Below and between the cheeks nestled a plump little mound that was thrown into stark relief by her bent-over position. He couldn't help but gasp a little at the sheer beauty of it all.

He shook his head. She was the perfect little package. Short and sulky. Cute button nose complete with perpetual scowl. Extra-large cone-tipped tits. A perfectly shaped apple-ass. And every inch of her firm but supple curves.

He sat and finished his breakfast in ecstasy. It was the best he'd felt in years, since his divorce in fact. The raw sexual woman-ness of this girl was both enflaming and calming. In some way, this ultra-sexy little woman was awakening something he had thought long dead. For the first time in years, he felt the man inside him stirring, waking up.

Bonnie went about her morning prep as usual, but it was impossible to ignore the creeper's eyes all over her body. Once, when she bent over, she actually imagined she could feel ghost hands caressing her full buttocks.

As she began wiping the windows, he no longer even pretended to look away. He was captivated. As she reached up to get the tops of the windows, her amazing firm melons lifted too, swaying gently in time with the motion of her hands. It was hypnotizing.

Herman did his best to undress her with her eyes. As she stood on tip-toes to reach up high, he tried to imagine what her naked tits would look like. He decided large, dark areolae, contrasting with the smooth caramel of her lush tit flesh. Thick, proud nipples. It was hard to tell under her industrial strength bra. She would have a tiny waist, with a slight womanly bulge to her tummy. Probably an outie belly button.

And that ass. God that ass. Round, perfect globes of firm caramel flesh. The kind that would wobble like jello when slapped. Succulent and smooth.

Bonnie couldn't believe the old perv. Had he no shame? She longed to be done with morning prep. He was making her feel dirty, like she was naked or something!

She hated her body. It was an embarrassment to her. And yet this weirdo was making her feel exposed, violated. Her cheeks flushed with shame.

As she finished up, she felt almost slimy. As if the stranger had been touching her all over her body, she felt like she needed a shower.

Herman noticed her discomfort but could not help himself. He was addicted. Entranced. She was a cute little girl with the body of a fertility goddess. As she moved about the room, she tried her best to move mechanically and unsexy, and she failed miserably. She exuded sexuality. It was literally straining against her clothes, yearning to burst forth.

After about twenty minutes, she finally finished cleaning and went back behind the counter. This early in the morning there was only one other employee, an older Hispanic woman. Herman crooked his neck but could no longer see the little beauty. Time to go. But he would be back.

*******

That night, Bonnie had trouble getting to sleep. She couldn't seem to get that creepy dude out of her head.

When she'd gotten home from work, she'd gone straight for the shower. She actually felt physically dirty! But as she'd stood under the warm, calming flow of water, something odd had happened. As she rubbed her hands over her slick, soapy tits, she pictured the hot eyes of the stranger.

At that moment, something melted in her, just a little bit. Some of her frosty bitterness at the unfairness of her ridiculous body thawed, just a little.

He was really into me, she thought as her hands continued to trace lazy circles over the wet mounds of her bosom.

She stopped immediately when she felt her nipples harden. A warm liquid feeling flashed through her lower belly and she snatched her hands away from her tits, yelping, "What the fuck?"

*******

Herman also had trouble sleeping. He was a man obsessed. He just laid there, visualizing her perfect face in exact detail. The warm but guarded chocolate eyes. The pug nose. The sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her full lips.

And that fucking body. So lush and curvy it was almost a caricature. Almost too fucking sexy. Herman felt a desire unlike any he'd ever known, and he wished he could masturbate to help wash her out of his mind.

But... he couldn't. To his shame and embarrassment, he could no longer get an erection. Not for the last three years. His doctor assured him the cause was psychological, but that didn't seem to help him get a boner.

No, ever since he had walked in on his wife with another woman, he had not been the same. Most men thought it would be sexy to see their wife with another woman. Hell, they might even pay for such a thing. But Herman had not enjoyed it one bit.

He could still picture the scene. Walking into his bedroom, home early. At first he couldn't process what he was seeing. His wife's face, upside-down. A tight athletic ass straddling her head. His wife's tongue buried in the slobbering hole of some unknown woman. Said woman was moaning loudly, but her voice was muffled by what Herman could only assume was his wife's cunt.

He stood frozen, unable to move. Both women were moaning and writhing in a wanton sixty-nine. His wife appeared to be on fire. Through the shock a thought came to him... she was never that turned on with him!

His wife just continued to make out with the hot little cunt in her face. She stabbed her tongue into it, lapped up the juice, slobbered along the outer lips, sucked on the engorged clit. He watched, completely powerless, as the women drove each other to a massive orgasm.

He just stood there as they screamed and sucked on each other's cunts and spasmed uncontrollably, their twats leaking and dribbling all over the place.

Finally, his wife looked up and saw him. And she smiled. But it was not a kind smile. It was a vicious, hateful smile. When she saw the look of shock and hurt on his face, she started to laugh.

The other woman lifted her head, turned around and started to laugh too. Herman felt a burning shame as tears flowed down his face.

"Why?" was all he could muster against their aggressive hilarity.

And that's what set her off.

Her face became an ugly mask, her neck tendons sticking out, veins in her forehead throbbing.

"Why? You ask me why, you piece of shit?" she screamed.

Herman took a step back.

"You're not even a man, you pathetic sniveling little bitch!!" she sneered, her voice rising in pitch. "You've never pleasured me even a little bit. All you do is hurt me with that bumbling comical dick of yours!"

He hated himself for weeping, but he couldn't help himself. She had always claimed to love him for his sensitivity. He had never tried to pretend to be macho or anything. He thought she loved him for who he was. And it wasn't his fault his dick was too big to fit into her little pussy.

By now the other woman had rolled over and sat up with legs spread wantonly. Her shaven cunt was angry read and dripping lewdly. She had tattoos all over her body and dozens of piercings.

"Jesus, you were right," said the dyke, "he is a big bitch!"

They both began laughing again and they leaned towards each other and wrapped their arms around each other.

Herman just turned and ran. Out of his wife's life and into purgatory. He gained weight. He stopped caring about his appearance. And he no longer got erections. Not even at night. He had been utterly and completely emasculated.

He sighed and rolled over in bed. He didn't want to think about his bitch ex-wife. After a while he was able to fall asleep with visions of a freckle-faced nymphet dancing through his mind.

*******

The next morning, Bonnie heard the door chime just after opening and she knew. The weirdo was back.

Sure enough, it was a repeat performance of yesterday. He just couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. He soaked in every sway of her proud tits, every thrust of her bubble butt, every nervous glance she threw his way.

He was hypnotized. His food was forgotten on the tray, and his eyes radiated slavish adoration. Again, Bonnie could almost feel his eyes caressing her, and for some reason, she flashed back to that hot moment in the shower last night.

Herman was watching her clean the windows when something happened. He was looking at her in profile, admiring the way her youthful tits pressed and strained against her uniform shirt.

She stole a nervous glance his way, then looked away. Suddenly, she closed her eyes and hunched over a bit. He thought he heard a little moan but couldn't be sure. At the same moment, her nipples suddenly stood up, all at once hard as pebbles!

Herman's eyes grew wide. The changes were undeniable. She was turned on!

Suddenly her eyes flashed open and she ran from the room, leaving the window half cleaned.

Herman sat shell-shocked. What had just happened? Everything he had learned in his thirty-five years told him that he had witnessed a woman suddenly turned on. But by what? His self-esteem was so low, he couldn't believe it was him. She must have thought of someone else. Perhaps a recent encounter. Surely she was sexually active.

He mentally shrugged. It didn't matter. It had been the sexiest two seconds of his life. Just by moaning, hunching over, biting her lip, and popping nips, she had given him the most erotic moment he had ever lived through. What a fucking goddess!

*******

The next day dawned, and Herman shuffled in, excited to see his delightful muse again. It was Monday, so he no longer had the excuse of dropping his daughter off at ballet to be there. He was stalking pure and simple. He was obsessed.

And there she was at the register, looking up at him under the bill of her uniform hat. Her lips turned up in the ghost of a smile. The very first he'd seen on her face.

It was almost painfully beautiful. Heart beating fast, he got the feeling that he had just glanced through a window to her soul. He saw a wounded yet infinitely sweet young woman.

And he fell a little more.

But as she began her cleaning it became evident that something had changed. Was she bending over for longer than necessary? Was she shaking her tits a little more vigorously? Was she arching her back a tad while cleaning the windows?

Yes and yes and yes.

Furthermore, there was no ignoring her proudly hardened nipples. Even through her heavy underwire bra, he could see her nipples thrusting forth with bold sensuality.

And yes, they were big. Rubbery nubbins pressing excitedly through two layers of fabric, begging to be pinched. Twisted. Sucked.

Herman sat like a man in a waking coma. Bonnie had no trouble imagining a line of drool dribbling from one side of his mouth. He looked like a mental patient on meds. He was absolutely entranced by her beauty.

As she worked, she once again felt his eyes caressing her swollen tits and taut nipples, felt a ghost of a stroke between her legs as she bent over, a phantom squeeze of an ample buttock.

And it felt good. Suddenly it was clear to her. He liked her body. A lot. He was not amused nor disgusted, but rather entranced. And even though he couldn't get enough eye candy, he was not becoming like a lust-crazed monster the way the other boys had.

That was it. He was safe. Unlike her former friends, this man would never try anything. They were in public.

He made her feel sexy... womanly, for the first time in her life. Yet he was completely harmless. Somehow this made her very horny, and very, very happy.

*******

Herman was truly happy for the first time in years. He was coming in every morning, not just weekends. When she wasn't there, he ate and left. But when she was...

He was in absolute heaven. He sat in the same place every day, and watched the amazing elfin creature move with more grace and beauty than any ballet company. She exuded fresh and innocent sexuality.

This continued for three more weeks, both of them strangely happy despite exchanging no more than a dozen words a day. Bonnie was actually starting to feel sexy and desirable for the first time in her life. And Herman, well, Herman was changing too.

Day after day, he watched his young crush arch her back, stick out her tits, and wiggle her ass. It was a beautiful erotic dance. Just for him. It did wonders for his wounded self-esteem. He stopped eating self-abusively. He drank less. Although he wasn't aware, he was dropping five to ten pounds a week.

Two more weeks passed, and Bonnie suddenly noticed. She wasn't sure when it happened, but at some point the chubby weirdo had stopped being chubby. And weird. He had lost his beer belly and had gotten a nice hair-cut. He was even wearing nice clothes. Khaki slacks and a polo shirt. He looked nice. Handsome even.

This struck Bonnie in a strange way. Suddenly he was no longer completely safe. Yet of course he was. She knew he was gentle and would never harm her. Yet the fact that he was no longer the slovenly weirdo struck in a confusing way. In her own way, she had grown very fond of him, but strictly for the way he made her feel. She had never thought of him as in any way attractive.

As he walked away with his tray, she glanced down at his noticeably narrowed ass and frowned. She had to admit. She was attracted to him. But what did this mean for their strange unspoken agreement? She was torn with confusion.

Without thinking, she ducked into the bathroom and removed her bra.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? her brain screamed. She ignored it. She somehow knew it was time to take this to a new level. What exactly that meant she had no idea, but she shivered with excitement at the thought.

When she emerged, Herman noticed something different immediately. Her breasts seemed fuller and more fluid-moving. NO BRA! a voice inside his head screamed, and he was lost to the world.

As she reached up to clean, he could clearly see the conical contours of her engorged areolae, as well as her proud thick nipples, rendering the cloth nearly invisible with their lewd rigidity.

Then he sucked in his breath as he noticed the second bonus. Her shirt was riding up her midriff. She hadn't tucked in her shirt!

His eyes about popped out of his head as he ogled her tender belly flesh. Soft skin the color of mellow caramel. Hip flexor muscles clear above her hipbones. A softly curving, very womanly tummy-bulge. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.