Big Mike Ch. 02

I'd taken off my stupid shoes and sat with my legs on the big leather chair, knees bent and pressed together. My dress came down to skirt levels at the thigh, so I knew my legs were showing, but I kinda thought it looked sexy. I'd been sipping on an iced, sugar-free, half-caf, toffee nut latte for the last twenty minutes and reading Death Note again. Light Yagami was one son of a bitch.

I heard the door open and his huge frame filled my peripheral vision. An electric shock ran through my body as I realized that he'd come. My quickened heart beat returned and I made a rushed, futile effort to position myself more sexily in the big chair. Once his eyes found me I froze.

He stared at me, still kind of frowning. I wasn't sure if he was going to come and sit down or just turn around and bail. I really didn't want to chase him through a parking lot in either heels or bare feet, so I breathed a sigh of relief when he walked my way.

"Hey buddy. You came." I smiled and tried to be cute. He held his hands in his pockets, contained within a pair of grey sweats. A couple grease stains darkened the fabric above the knees. Above he wore a black t-shirt which must've been some quadruple extra-large thing. There was a logo in the center but I didn't recognize it. His big feet were clad in dirty old sneakers that looked like they should've been thrown out a year earlier. He still wore his black-framed glasses.

"Yeah. I'm here. So what did you want exactly?"

He remained standing and fidgeted awkwardly. Having a second opportunity to look him over, I gained yet another dimension of how huge he really was. He towered over a lady standing next to the condiment stand. His height must have been six and a half feet. And seeing the breadth of his shoulders and hips, the girth of his big belly, even the thickness of his neck and wrists, made me realize that he couldn't have weighed less than five hundred pounds. It was impossible.

"I wanna hang out. Talk. Get to know you. You want a coffee or something?" Again, he fidgeted and looked annoyed.

"This isn't really my scene..." I started to wonder if he was going to give me a chance at all.

He looked around the coffee shop, probably concerned how much he was being watched. A guy this size really took up a lot of space so I assumed he was used to being stared at. As his shoulders twisted a bit to facilitate looking around the room, I was offered a new, close up view of him. And boom! It hit me.

He really had a big fat ass. As his torso rotated and the glutes of one hip were compressed, his cotton sweats and stretched and filled out by one big round butt cheek. His upper body had the full, powerful, masculine shape of some retired football player turned trucker, but his legs and hips had a more feminine girth. His thighs were thick, his hips were wide, and his ass was round, jutting out in a big shelf from his bulky lower back. I just stared, in awe. I'd really never seen a man with a body like his.

I glanced up to see him looking back at me. He'd caught me ogling him and he looked even more frustrated. I started to glean how out of place he must have felt. His ass was literally too big to fit in the chairs.

"Okay, so...what is your scene then? Where do you usually go after work? Somewhere around here more comfortable?" Mike fidgeted and huffed and puffed but finally nodded in some agreement.

"Well...when I walk home there's a few places I stop by. If you want..."

"Sure." I hopped up to my feet to emphasize my agreement. "Let's go." He looked down at me, now standing at my natural height without my heels. I looked up to him, big, broad and towering. We stared into each other's eyes for a full two or three seconds.

"But if you don't want to..."

"Fuck no!" I smiled big. "Show me your walk home, and we'll stop somewhere."

Mike waffled a bit, maybe still looking for a way out.

"Well...I thought because of your shoes...maybe you wouldn't wanna walk." He shrugged.

"Oh." I looked down at my hooker heels. "Are you offering to carry me, then?" My sarcastic face returned and Mike looked baffled again. "No, I'm joking. I can walk just fine. Unless you want to carry me. Then by all means throw me over your shoulder or whenever you like. But I'm good."

I put on my heels, grabbed my Death Note, and we headed out.

We walked north as Mike guided me on his usual trek. I clip-clopped in my heels, tight cherry red dress clinging tight to by slender body. Mike lumbered next to me and slightly behind me; he was big enough that he filled the entire sidewalk. He moved slowly in his fat guy waddle, big belly swaying back and forth, hips splayed out and feet pointed diagonally. I was pale skinned with blonde hair while he was more olive skinned with his thick black beard and coarse furry arm hair. We made quite the contrast.

It was still sunny and only about five thirty.

"So Craig let you leave early, I guess. He did me a favour."

"Ah...Craig's the owner but I do what I want there. I pretty much taught him how to run the entire store when the old owner sold it."

Mike complained a bit about work and I sensed some resentment there, so I changed the subject. I tried to avoid any topics that might offend a stereotypical morbidly obese nerd working a dead end job: age, weight, sex life, career plans, recent airplane trips.

"So uh...Sandman, huh? Tell me about it."

We'd walked enough that he was just beginning to breathe heavily.

"What do you want, actually? I'm sure you don't really care about Sandman."

He was suddenly straight forward, which take me back for a second.

"Uh...not particularly."

"So what do you want? Why did you make such a scene at the shop?" I had to laugh it off a bit. I understood his skepticism. There probably weren't so many pretty, mid-twenties girls who adore fat guys walking into his comic shop. I had to justify my position, but I didn't really want to come straight out and beg for him to power fuck me deep into his bedframe.

"Is it so strange that I want to get to know you?"

"Well...kinda. Pretty girls wearing high heels don't normally ask me out for coffee."

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty, huh?"

Mike didn't answer right away. He was walking just behind me so I didn't try to force a response with eye contact.

"Well, of course. You look like a model."

"I am a model...but only part time. I also waitress and do other things. But I'd love to know...do you actually find me attractive. Like, am I your type?"

That time I looked up and back to see his expression. He held the typical sulky frown, this time with some additional panting making his face look even heavier. He didn't meet eyes with me.

"Well...yeah. I don't know what my type is, but...you're...really good looking. I'm sure you already have a hundred guys telling you that all the time." He exaggerated, but wasn't wrong.

"Well, I don't want to presume. For all I know, you might not be into me. I was afraid maybe you only like bigger girls, maybe. Maybe I was too skinny for you."

Mike continued to pant more than respond. We'd only been walking for about five minutes straight but a bead of sweat ran down his temple. His lack of wind didn't help his mood.

"No, you're fucking gorgeous, obviously. But what does it matter? You probably have two boyfriends already anyway."

I was kind of glad he'd said that, since it gave me an opportunity to break the mood with some laughter. I giggled.

"Two boyfriends? Wouldn't that be nice. No, I'm plenty single. I uh...actually don't find guys I'm attracted to very often, so it's not like I'm hooking up with every dude who looks my way. That's why...when I do meet a guy I'm really, genuinely attracted to...I may get a little pushy. I may cause a scene and spend fifteen dollars on comics just for attention."

I stared back at him directly now, hoping he would actually smile for once. He still shook his head in sweaty defiance.

"So...what does that have to do with me?" My eyes almost bugged out of my head when he said that.

"My god! You are one large and stubborn man! You're frickin' gorgeous too! And I want it! I wanna touch your big powerful body! Except usually you can't just start touching without some conversation happening first, so...here I am. This is me trying to flirt with you. You're being courted!"

Mike had stopped walking at the beginning of my semi-sarcastic outburst. He took a minute to catch his breath and looked around to see if anyone was watching. We were basically alone, past the strip mall and nearing a residential district.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes!" I shouted. He just shook his head.

"How is that possible? You like big fat guys or something?"

"Yyessss!!" I shouted even louder this time. I've taken my handful of acting and sketch comedy classes, so it was easy for me to use my body language to add zeal to my words.

Mike stared at me, his cheeks slightly flushed. I felt like I'd worn the defenses of his insecurity down enough that there was nothing else to argue with. Still though, he didn't let up.

"I don't have any money, you know. Like, I'm not wealthy."

My posture deflated a bit at the realization that there was yet another round of defense mechanism in place.

"Yeah, I didn't really expect the comic store business to be a million dollar profession. I don't care about your money. I don't want you to buy me anything. I know I'm kinda dressed like a hooker today but I don't usually dress this way."

He stared at me more, as if testing my sincerity, as if there was still some grand gold-digging scheme that he may unearth if he persisted.

"I don't have a car either, you know. If you want me to drive you around, I can't do it. I just walk and take the bus.

"Me too! I don't care about cars!"

"And I don't own a house or anything. I just live in a crappy apartment with one roommate."

"That's fine! Don't care! Still want you!"

"And well...I uh...I don't date much so...I dunno...I'm rusty!"

"That's also fine! I don't mind just talking about comics or playing video games or just grabbing a bite. I'm not looking for some guy to get married and have kids with. I just...really think you're gorgeous yourself. Unbelievably so. So if I think you're gorgeous, and you think I'm gorgeous...then well...seems like we should spend some time together, huh?"

Mike had finally caught his breath. He brought a hand to his dark, thick beard and kinda pulled it in his hand.

"Well...why? I mean...I'm just not used to girls being attracted to me. I've never had it happen before. I mean, girls tell me I'm cute sometimes. They say I'm a teddy bear and that I give good hugs. But...every time I make a move on a girl...which has only happened two or three times...they always have some excuse. And it's always a bad excuse. I'm just too much for them, too big, too fat, too sweaty, too hairy, too nerdy, too broke, stuck in a lame job with a crummy apartment that smells like cat piss." He sighed heavily.

He'd had a little moment there, which was good. I'd only known him for an hour or so and we'd already had a little therapy session. If he'd been less stubborn of a person, more willing to go with the flow, then this wouldn't have happened. Given his strong wall of social defense however, he forced me to challenge him, which in turn forced him to acknowledge the self-loathing that he wore on his sleeve.

He'd regained clear breath and seemed to be frowning less. He looked at me more genuinely.

"You're saying you're attracted to me, even though I'm not happy with myself?"

I didn't say anything too quickly. I wanted him to reflect on his own words for a moment, so I took a second to choose my words

"I'll tell you what, Mike. You said you lived nearby. If you invite me over to your place, I will...recite you long-winded poetry about exactly how and why I find you attractive. I'll cite my sources and show my math and explain in great detail why I'm as attracted to you as I am. I'll fully justify my position and destroy any lingering doubt in your mind."

He didn't argue for once. He just nodded humbly at my suggestion.

"But first...I want to get out of these heels. You were right. They suck."

Then for once, I saw a beautiful thing. Mike smiled. And again, I nearly swooned.

"Okay. Okay. I still kinda can't believe it, but sure. I live just down this street actually. I wanted to be close to work, so...that's why I haven't moved. I don't think my roommate is home either."

"Perfect!" I shouted again but this time with cheer. "But you have to carry me this time."

"You mean...actually?"

"Yes. Carry me." I figured I could safely ask him to do that now, after we'd had a little breakthrough. I took off my heels and stood barefoot just to further the demand. Mike smirked and fidgeted a bit, but to my surprise actually knelt down and scooped me up, maiden style.

His big beefy arms supported my back and under my knees. My butt basically sat on his big belly. He looked a bit nervous but smiled down at me.

I was suddenly so close to him. I could feel the heat of his body and the moist sweat of his shirt. I could smell the body odour on him and I liked it. I looked up and studied the features of his face more closely. I examined his thick lips and shaggy, black beard. His big, broad nose and heavy brow were really quite handsome. My lust for him suddenly doubled in the matter of seconds. I felt a twinge between my legs.

I looked away, suddenly feeling tiny and bashful. I couldn't believe he was carrying me.

While we walked to his house, Mike finally asked me what I'd been waiting for him to ask.

"Hey uh...I don't even know your name."

I looked back up to him as cutely as I could.

"My name's Felicia."