Anastasia: My USSBBW Angel

"You're nice. A little reciprocity goes a long way."

"How many...times...for you, before me?"

I paused. It was only four women. I don't know why I felt weird telling her, but I told her the number all the same.

"All girlfriends?"

"All but one," I said.

"I've only had one boyfriend, back in high school. It lasted a week, and we barely even talked, let alone kiss. I wasn't as...never mind."

"Sorry that I'm your intro to sex," I said with a smile.

She tilted her head towards me. "You're good at this stuff. I don't have a clue. Um, but how come you...I mean, why..." She sighed.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Never mind," she said, squeezing my hand.

We stayed like that for a while, then she told me she was going to leave.

"I do have work tomorrow morning, but you can stay if you want, I don't mind," I said.

"No," she said, sitting up. "I need to feed my cat."

"Nice, what's your cat's name?"

"Kevin," she said, as she reached for her underwear.

"Kevin the cat," I marveled. "I already love him. Can I visit Kevin sometime?"

"Maybe," she said, sounding more playful than before.

I walked her to the door, and kissed her goodnight.

"Why me?" she asked suddenly, searching my eyes for the truth.

I had never noticed that her iris color was a very dark brown before now. She had the eyes of a mouse. Or a shark. They felt intensely raw, as if they could hide no secret.

"Why you?" I repeated. I paused. "I...just...kind of like everything about you, Anastasia."

I kissed her again and hugged her. Her countless curves pushed against me.

Then she was gone.

I lay in bed, only now realizing I needed release from our brief night together. I thought about her as I reached down. Every uneven curve, every fold, and plush mound of her feminine flesh. I wanted her, needed her. I also liked her a lot. Maybe I loved her.

I didn't last long while fantasizing about her. I felt no guilt as I came, just bliss. But it didn't come close to being with her.

I fell asleep.

I slept in, and once more reflected on our relationship, and the events that had transpired so far as I woke myself up.

I had to admit, I liked that she was shy; It made it easier to not deal with any attention I'd get being seen dating a woman like her. One that would stand out in a crowd.

Again-- selfish. But she requested it, so was I a jerk, or not? I thought of other things. Like how she was a nerd that liked gaming. How she didn't like using other people's bathrooms. How good her pussy tasted.

Crap. I forgot about work.

I was late getting there, and it wasn't fun getting scolded. But the workday flew by as my thoughts were filled with...her.

I knew I needed to see her tonight. It was also convenient that she didn't have a job. I texted her the second I left BuyWell.

She replied. I asked her if I could come over. She took a while to text back. She told me she needed time to tidy up, and asked to give her a couple hours.

I drove to the address she texted me. It was a small house hidden in between two larger duplexes.

I knocked.

"Hey," she said, greeting me at the door. She wore her black sweats and a tight fitting, pink t-shirt. Her massive belly peeked out a bit.

"Hey," I said, sneaking in a kiss. She blushed, and invited me in. Once more I stared at the enormous mass of her ass, and I tried to take it all in.

Her place was small, and a little disorganized. Not messy, but a bit haphazard. I asked if I could use her bathroom, as a coffee from before had gone right through me.

"Okay," she said, pointing reluctantly down the hall. Kevin the cat walked past me briskly before I could pet him.

I entered the bathroom. The toilet had a bar installed on the wall next to it.

Her toilet also had a bidet device installed. And the seat seemed wide.

Of course-- the reason she didn't to use mine: she had one customized for her needs: support, dimensions, cleanliness assistance. I assumed it was hard to stay hygienic when things were difficult to reach.

Then how was she so shaved?

I also spied support bars in her shower, as well as a portable shower head-- but even I had one of the latter.

I peed, and returned. She looked ashamed.

"Sorry, I know it looked stupid in there. But, I just need help with...I'm sorry, I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be-- not with me," I said, grasping her right hand. "I don't care about that at all."

I kissed her, and asked for a tour. She showed me her living room, kitchen, and back patio. Small property, but she did have privacy in the backyard. But it was a little cool so we went back in.

She didn't turn on the light when we passed her room. All I noticed was that her bed was a king.

We sat on her vast couch, which was comfier than mine. I sank in deep. It was real leather.

"Play Switch?" I asked. She nodded and smiled wide.

We played a 2-player game as we started to chat.

"I wanna be the zombie guy," I said, elbowing her playfully.

"Fine," she sighed, "I'm the demon girl." The character was skinny, and had purple skin.

"What did you do today?" I asked.

"Oh," she hummed, "not much. I game a lot."

"Cool," I said as I leaned against her. She cuddled against me.

"Work was okay?" she asked. She sounded much more comfortable around me. Like we were more than a few days into this relationship.

"Boring." I smelled her scent. Her whole place smelled like her. Floral, yet salty, like the beach. A hint of her sex.

"Hey I..." she paused the game. "You made me feel so good, last night."

She looked at me in little bursts, like she couldn't keep her eyes locked on me for too long.

"I loved doing that, with you," I said, still smelling her aroma on my lips.

"I'm nervous when I'm with you," she almost whispered. "But I...wish I wasn't. I trust you. But I don't feel very..."

She sighed.

"I'm not sure why you're with me." She looked down at her knees.

"I feel so...big...compared to you."

It was the first time I could recall that she mentioned her size. I mean, why would she? But it was a bit of an elephant in the room, with no disrespect meant. She knew she was really big. She knew I knew.

But since neither of us mentioned it, it did sort of beg the question: why her?

"I don't want you to feel bad about yourself," I said. "I don't think you realize how much I like your body, just the way that it is."

"I figured...you might," she said, "but I struggled with it at first." Anastasia rested a hand on my thigh. "I'm glad that you're so confident. I could never have asked you out myself."

"I'm not really," I chuckled. "I was nervous around you before."

"Yeah," she said, "I don't feel bad when I'm with you. Just nervous."

"You seem fine now," I smiled.

"I'm better now," she sighed, grasping at my bulge. She was getting bolder.

"You asked: why you?" I said as I circled back to her question, surprised at her groin-grab. "I really, like you, and I really like your body. I like being with you."

"Same," she said.

Part Three: Talking It Out

It was inevitable: our kisses that followed our brief heart-to-heart led to her bedroom. She flicked the bedroom light on.

She had clothes scattered everywhere. It was a bit of a mess, but it felt homey. I beat her to the bed. I undressed slowly as she watched. Soon I was sprawled out on her bed with a raging erection.

"Now you," I commanded. Well, I asked nicely.

She crossed her arms. They looked soft but heavy, and maybe hiding a little strength; She did lift her own weight constantly when getting up. That must build muscle.

"Fine," she frowned, slowly taking off her shirt. Her bra held her breasts above her multi-dimensional belly. I was surprised she would expose it in the light. Her belly really did look like an amazing place to hide my penis. Every single part of her was either a crevice or a mound of curvaceous flesh.

She peeled off her sweats.

Her pale, thick, dimpled, mottled skin was a beautiful sight. Her chubby mound concealed her secret lips.

The bra was next. Her breasts only hung down a little. Her areolas were smaller and pinker than expected. I would have imagined stretched out pancakes, but they were not much bigger than a quarter. Her nipples were cute and perky.

She was so much woman, and I needed her immediately.

"Get on top of me," I said.

She stood there, holding herself as best she could to achieve some level of modestly in her naked state.

"No," she said curtly. "I don't think that..."

I turned up the charm as best I could.

"Anastasia, I love your body, and I want to feel it on top of me."

I said what my mind and body wanted, but I didn't express my desire directly from the heart. Not in great detail anyways. But full honesty might have been a bit much.

Did I love that she was incredibly fat? Did I want to experience the sensation of having so much weight on me that I hoped it would be hard to breathe? That I wanted to bury myself in her cellulite?

That was truth, but it didn't require that I reveal it. She just needed to know that I loved her as she was. That she turned me on.

She frowned, but she sported a little smile as she climbed into her bed.

"If I hurt you at all, tell me," she said softly, slowly and careful crawling on top of my naked body. The bed supported our weight. The mattress was clearly built better than mine. Her thighs slowly crept up my calves, and wrapped around my hips. Her belly dragged along my member, then it came to a stop, resting on my own.

"Close your eyes," she said looking down at me.

I didn't question her or argue, I just did as asked. If it assisted with her anxiety about her appearance, I was fine with it. Eyes open or not, I could still smell her. Feel her.

Her naked rear perched on my groin, but I could tell she wasn't resting fully upon me-- her knees were taking most of her weight.

"Relax," I said, gently tapping her thighs. "I can take it."

She might have given me a put-out look, but I didn't peek.

She just sighed again. Then her colossal rear lowered, and pressed down on my abdomen as well as my erection. Tremendous pressure weighed down on my lower torso. I felt myself pushed into the flesh of her ass cheeks. It felt great.

"Too much?" she said, likely not as turned on by squashing me as I felt being the receiver. But she wasn't holding back anymore. She knew I liked what she had to offer. I opened my eyes.

"You're peeking," she said. She leaned down, and we made out a little as she sat straddling me. I pulled her lower, and she started to cover my body with her own. I was in heaven.

"Can you do it like this?" she asked, and I smiled in return. I reached down, through folds and rolls, and positioned myself. I had to push handfuls of her curves to the side to enter, but enter I did.

She was hot, wet, and cozy.

Anastasia started riding me. As she did, I felt myself being forced deeper inside her with every gyration of her hips. She was getting sweaty. I wanted her to sweat.

"I like this," I said, moaning in pleasure.

"Same," she managed, "But...I...are you sure you like...all this?" She motioned to her belly and hips. She showed me her big arms.

"Is it okay if I touch you? Where you feel... not as good... about yourself?"

"Sure," she said, sucking in breath as I immediately placed my hands on her formidable belly. It felt like perfection. I wanted to bury my face in it.

My hands massaged, and squeezed. I could tell by her face she was conflicted. I think it felt good to her but she had to force her brain to turn off. I reached up, massaging her biceps. So fucking soft. I ran my fingers down, over her hips. Those mammoth hips.

"This feels so fucking good," I said, squeezing heavy handfuls of hip.

"Yeah," she whispered, "so good." The sounds of our bodies mashing together was louder now, and she was so wet we could hear it.

"I'm gonna come," she moaned softly. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. I was surprised she was finishing so soon. Maybe seeing me under her body got her there faster. Knowing that I loved all of her.

I encouraged her. I craved the sounds and sight of her orgasming on top of me, right in front of my eyes.

"Come baby," I said, lifting both breasts as I caressed them. "You feel so good. I want you to come."

I stared at her massive belly-- rolls of flesh, and tiny blemishes I hadn't noticed until now. Her tummy was so sexy to me.

"Nghh..." she moaned through her bit lip. Her round face whipped back, calling out. "Oh...fffuuuuck..."

"Yeah baby," I groaned, "Come for me."

"Mm-hmm..." she whimpered, her body started to tremor. Her gyrations lost rhythm, and she frantically humped me at a random pace, then screamed out again as she came.

She clawed at my chest, and rested her weight upon me as she twitched and convulsed. She opened her eyes.

"Fuck," she breathed heavily, the aroma of her body palpable and powerful.

She looked at me. She was exhausted, satisfied, and grateful. She leaned forward again, and kissed me. I was still inside, still hard.

I made out with her as I lay buried under her oven-warm body. She was damp with sweat. I wrapped my arms around her best I could. Her belly pushed into mine, and pushed on my diaphragm.

Between the weight of her and my hindered breathing, I was going to come. But she was kissing me so relentlessly I couldn't tell her.

"Hey," I interrupted, before being assaulted by her kisses again. I barely found time to breathe.

"Yeah?" she said as she casually fucked me. She was not the shy girl I once knew.

"I'm gonna come too," I whispered.

"Kay. Come inside me," she begged.

I couldn't believe her response. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she whispered as she covered me again with her lips.

I was going to finish inside of Anastasia. My god. Every sensation was overwhelming: her weight, her softness, her smell, her lust, being mercilessly submerged in her kisses, her flesh, her heat and her sweat and her--

I moaned into her neck as I felt wave after wave of pleasure pumped deep inside of her. She bit my ear gently as I too twitched and shivered in blissful wonder.

"Good?" she asked. Her dark brown eyes were half closed. She was dynamite in bed and I think she knew it. Or knew I felt that way. Her confidence had grown.

"Very," I said as she struggled a little to get up. She rolled to the side, and I was no longer inside of her. Her huge thigh rested on my groin as we caught our breath, and cuddled.

"I hope I didn't hurt you," she asked, but she didn't sound as self-conscious, just curious.

"Not at all," I said, "It felt really good being under you."

"Hmm," she said, "good how?"

She smirked at me as she caressed my chest.

"Like..." I started. I did want to talk about it with her. I just wondered if she'd be receptive to me discussing her weight.

"I like when you were sitting on me with all your weight," I said.

"Oh yeah?" she smiled. She was okay with this, I figured.

"Yeah. The sex was great, but it helped that you were on top this time. I liked the pressure."

"I liked being on you," she said absentmindedly, looking up at the ceiling. "Mostly cause I thought you liked it. I felt like I was slowly swallowing you up. You were disappearing under me."

Even this conversation was a turn-on to me.

"Yeah," I said. "Sometimes it was a little hard to breathe."

"Oh, no." She giggled but kept on listening.

"But that was hot, too. When I went down on you the other night, same thing happened. My air was restricted a bit, and it made the whole thing hotter."

"Hmm." She held my hand. "I like talking about this stuff."

"Yeah? What did you like?'

"When you came inside me," she said lovingly. I had almost forgot.

"I'll get a pill tomorrow morning," she said. "I might have been a virgin the other day, but I watch TV. Plan B for breakfast for me."

"Can I ask," I said, "How old are you?"

"22. You?"

"I'm 23," I said.

"I know 22 is pretty late to have sex for the first time," she laughed.

"Not like it stopped you from being good at it," I said.

"Thanks," she giggled. "You did all the work."

Not true-- I was the one pinned under her, being fucked ever so nicely. I wondered how she got this big. If she was this big when she graduated, or even earlier.

As if reading my thoughts, she started on a rant.

"My parents are big, so maybe it's genetic. Or metabolism. Or both. I was heavy in school. I got worse after. I eat too much, so I'm to blame, but...anyway. It got to the point I couldn't work my old job anymore, 'cause my ankles would hurt too much. I also have a condition I always forget the name of, something with bone density or something. That's why I'm not working."

"What job?" I asked.

"The bank," she said. "I was trying to get into a finance career without schooling-- train on the job. But I got too fat," she laughed.

"Everything's harder. Even visiting my new boyfriend," she said, looking away. "Can't use your little toilet. Had to go home just to use the bathroom."

"Whatever," I said. "Doesn't bother me. I'll just come over, every... single... day!"

I kissed her neck.

"Aw, as if." She sighed. "You'd get sick of me quickly."

"No way," I said.

"You work tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, sadly. But I can come over after, if you want?"

"Okay," she said, cuddling against me. "I really like you."

"I really like you." I smiled. I was so happy.

We got ready, and I fell asleep in her bed. I woke up once in the night. She had turned over to her side. I spooned her, and rested my hand on her belly. I fell asleep again shortly after.

Chapter Four: Time Flies

I went to work the next day, and then I spent the night at her place again. We talked, we kissed, and eventually, we had sex. It had been several days like this already, with no signs of stopping.

But the following night I got food poisoning or something, and didn't see her for a couple days, in case I was contagious. I talked to her on the phone each night, and once I felt better, I visited her again.

We fell into a routine. I almost always came to her place, we would game out, or watch a movie or something on TV. We had sex a couple times a week. Mostly we would just kiss or cuddle. Or both. Sex was a bit of work, mostly due to her size, and it seemed more special when it wasn't every day.

Things hadn't progressed much in that department after a month.

Sure, we satisfied each other often enough, but we hadn't tried anything too experimental. Anastasia was tremendous at giving blowjobs-- I'll give her that. But beyond sex and giving each other oral pleasure, we had been satisfied enough with just the vanilla stuff.

One night while gaming on her couch, we got to talking about something that doesn't often come up in conversation: porn. Turns out, she was pretty well-versed in the field of pornography. I however, was not, believe it or not. I jacked off, but I never really became dependent on porn at all. I hardly ever used it, and I wasn't aware of the more niche genres.

She was well-aware. Part of me felt a twinge of jealousy, but she explained that as a 22-year-old virgin prior to meeting me, she still had a libido, and porn was her best friend. Until I liberated her from a sexless life.

"I'd watch some weird stuff," she said that evening. "But I don't really like most of it. Not really."

"Do you have a favorite...thing?"

"Hmm," she said, her Switch controller wiggling around as she multi-tasked. Her character did backflips while dodging cartoon projectiles. "Maybe, but it's so... embarrassing."

"Okay, now you have to tell me," I said, chuckling.

"Well...I like seeing women that are big like me. I'm not turned on by them. But seeing guys like...you...with women like me... it gave me a sort of sexual hope. Of course, now that's no longer a fantasy, but..."