Tammy the Love Muffin

It had been more than a month. At first, he ignored the hair, the baggy pants, the granny panties, the immense bras that looked like they were designed in the 50's by a structural engineer. He still hit on her. She told him no. After a couple of weeks, he stopped trying. At the one-month mark, he suggested they needed to talk.

"I guess you need to do what you need to do," she said.

"I'm only 46," he argued. It was awfully young to hang up his gun belt.

"I guess you need to do what you need to do," she repeated. "Do you get what I am saying?"

He found a photo on his phone. It was only a few months old. He had sent it to her and asked her to send one back. She sent a picture of the dog. He cropped off his head and airbrushed away his tattoo and posted the personal ad.

White Male Seeks BBW couple for discrete fun.

He met them at the bar. Tammy and Oliver. He introduced himself as Mike. It seemed even more generic than John.

"No you aren't, but that's okay," she said.

"What?"

"Your name is Tucker and you went to Westwood High in the 80's"

"Holly shit! That Tammy!"

She asked about the discrete part of his ad and he explained. She asked if he had any pictures. He scrolled through his phone and found one of her two years earlier and one of her recently. She just shook her head. She didn't give the phone back though. She played around with it for a long time.

She asked about his kids, his travel, and why he had so many pictures of restaurant receipts. Oliver was the one to explain modern expense reports.

Her second question was why he wanted a couple.

"It was the suggestion of a friend."

"Really? Gay friend?"

"No."

"Bi-sexual friend?"

"No," he said. "He and his wife are swingers. With a couple, you reduce the risk of ending up in a relationship and divorced and all of the complexities I am too old and tired to deal with."

She thought it made sense. He asked why she had replied to a BBW she wasn't heavy, not in the least.

"I am plump."

"I wouldn't say that," he said smiling at her. She had large breasts and a nice round butt. She had the belly that came with those things but she wasn't fat.

"Well, no one posts ads for pasty chicks with crooked noses."

She did have an odd nose. She had always had it, even when she was the cute little girl with black hair in the front of the classroom. It made him think about the bright red hair she had now. He told her he liked it. She smiled.

"You smoke?"

"Not anymore."

"So you will have one with me?"

"I guess."

It was an excuse to leave her husband inside. They stepped to the patio. Oliver had instructions to order another round. As they talked about what he thought was included in "play," they smoked and smiled. He felt bold enough at one point to light her cigarette for her and when he did she held him by the waist. She was tiny, barely over five feet. When her husband came out he was only an inch or two taller. He delivered their beers and went away.

"He's a natural cuckold. We decided to explore it a little bit beyond just talking about how much I wanted a fat cock when we are fucking."

"I see."

"Do you have a fat cock?" she asked. She reached over and gripped his crotch. He didn't know if it was fortuitous or embarrassing that thinking about her large breasts had him half hard. "Oh my..." she purred.

"It's nothing special."

"I guess we will see, won't we."

They talked a while about what she was into - anything, and what he was willing to try - just about anything, and drank their beer. She asked about the bi-sexual thing. He was realistic; he imagined in a threesome situation there would be incidental contact. He wasn't intimidated by there being another man there but he wasn't interested in "experimenting."

She gave him a look he didn't like as though she had plans he wasn't going to be happy with.

When their beers were finished she asked if he was ready.

"For what?"

"To bang the shit out of my fat white ass."

"Anal?" he asked. It seemed a bit much for a first go round.

"God no. Just an expression... I would hit that ass."

"Okay, good!" he said.

"I'm not ruling it out though... eventually..." she said with a wink.

She texted her husband to pay the check and meet them at home. She was too horny to fuck around anymore. She led him to the patio gate and he led her to his car. They lived close by and it was less than a half hour until they were making out on the couch. She was in his pants and he had her bra off by the time the garage door went up. When Oliver joined them she led Tucker to the bedroom, undressed him, let him undress her, and she took him to bed.

It was nothing particularly kinky really if you ignored Oliver sitting in a folding metal chair in the corner jacking off.

It was, however, spectacular humping. She was energetic. She liked kissing. She moaned and cooed and growled to let him know when what he was doing was working. He hadn't worn a condom in almost twenty years so that was unusual but it meant he went a solid hour inside of her without running out of gas. He was on top for a while, then she took the top position, then he took her from behind.

His back was actually sore when she collapsed on the bed.

"Five! Fucking Five. I can't think of the last time my husband gave me five fucking orgasms. I don't think he ever has. Fuck, it's fat. I thought you were going to split me open."

She chattered away like that for a while until he wondered if she meant it or if it was part of the game. He laid on his back breathing. "Oh, by the way, you are supposed to switch out the rubber each time you come."

"I didn't," he mumbled.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah!"

"Shit. Come here!"

He couldn't do it again, but that wasn't what she wanted anyway.

With her on her back, he straddled her chest and alternated fucking her tits and having her suck on the tip of his dick until he was there. On the edge, he moaned.

"Come on my tits," she told him. It wasn't an order really. He had seen what she looked like when she ordered him to do something. Her eyes went cold and lifeless. This wasn't one of those times. She was asking. Her soft green eyes were sweet, bordering on affectionate.

He stared at her plump red painted lips and stroked his cock until it exploded. It was an impressive load and it ran down her large soft tits, dripped down her chin and neck and even sat in droplets on her cheek and forehead.

"Tuck, can you give us a minute, maybe slip into the bathroom?"

He did as she asked. He needed to take a leak anyway.

Through the door, he heard her voice, sharp, mean, and demanding. "Come here, bitch, clean this up." He listened to her chide the poor man. "You don't need tissue, use your tongue. You know you fucking want to."

Eventually, she was cooing at him. "Good boy, clean mama up." Maybe he was more perverted then he thought because he grew hard again. "Maybe I should have him fuck me bareback so you can lick it out of my pussy. You would like that, wouldn't you. Look at how you love that spunk."

He had no idea how long he would have to wait. He thought about jacking off but that seemed like a waste. She might want him again.

Rather than let him out of the bathroom when she knocked, she asked if she could come in. He opened the door and she joined him. She wanted to wash her face. As she bent over the sink there were just acres of pale white flesh begging for him to touch her. He gripped her hips and pressed her cock between her ass cheeks. She was no BBW but she was nicely rounded and soft. He liked it.

"Really?"

"Sorry. I warned you. It's been a while."

She turned around. She looked completely different with her makeup washed off. She looked older, softer, still lovely but in a very different way. They kissed and he lifted her to the counter. She arched her back to avoid the faucet and he rubbed his cock against the outer lips of her sweet pussy.

"Go ahead," she whispered.

He pressed himself inside of her.

He sort of wished the sounds she was making were for his benefit. She was over the top with her moans and grunts. He, however, meant every groan he made. Being inside of her without the inconvenience of a condom was incredible.

"Fill me, baby. Fill up my pussy. Give it to me. I want your cum to drip out of my cunt for a week."

That did it. He came then and there just as she had asked. He growled as it exploded into her. Again, he came so hard and so plentifully that his prostrate ached in his asshole.

He rocked in and out of her for a while afterward, his cock raw from the splendid feel of her wrapped around it. He kissed her like he was a teenager whose virginity had just been taken by some matronly older woman. He was in love with her, at least for the moment.

"You should probably go. It's late."

"I probably should."

"And things are about to get real around here."

There were no promises to meet up again. Just a suggestion she would call. Oliver entered the smallish master bathroom and Tucker exited. He dressed and drove home.

"How was your day," he asked his wife when he walked in. He tried to kiss her. He could go for another round. She twisted her head away and forced his kiss to fall on her cheek. She complained about 1000 things and try as he might he couldn't find a one of them worth concern.

"Were you drinking?" she asked sharply.

"I had a beer with lunch."

"Should you be doing that?" she asked.

"Yes," he said walking for the beer cooler he kept on the patio. The conversation continued on the same lines without him there. He found the new contact in his phone, "Tammy the love muffin" had snuck it in there at some point. He wanted to keep the picture of the topless woman but when the text message came in and it popped up front and center on the home screen he quickly deleted it.

"Thursday afternoon. Details to follow. Luv ya, T." There was also a little yellow face blowing a kiss.

He opened a second beer, wondered where his yearbook from junior year might be and began to count off the minutes. Thursday seemed a long ways away.