Fluffy Fiona

Staring out the bus window at the downpour I chastised myself for not being a weatherman. What other job is one paid handsomely to be right less than half the time? If it was a matter of flat out lying a weatherman would easily lose to any politician, from all sides of the spectrum. When I listened to the weather report on the morning news while I scarfed my oatmeal and toast with strawberry jam he said there would be clear skies all day with less than a 10% chance of precipitation. I think he missed a zero because there was no denying the rain was coming down like a faucet had been opened.

I was regretting having ridden my bike to work, in the two to three minutes it took to put my bike on the rack on the front of the bus I was soaked to the skin. Being the beginning of fall I had worn a light jacket, it was soaked through along with my shirt. Of course our old friend gravity caused that same rain to trickle down the center of my back and soaked my underwear as well. I'm not a fan of sitting in wet clothes, shit, even my socks had soaked through my New Balance sneaks. Dang, I'd only had them a month and they were already on the way to ruin. If I had shaken my head like a dog water would have been flying three rows away.

It always amazes me how a twenty-minute bike ride becomes a forty-five-minute journey on a city bus. It made no sense to grouse about it, I settled back in my squishy shoes and tried to doze. Fat chance, there was more activity on that bus than a football game, people on, people off, and then almost miraculously ... it was quiet. There was not more than six people on the bus, I had another twenty minutes to go and tried closing my eyes a second time. A phone rang in the seat ahead of me, a plus size woman with dark brown hair answered. The one-sided conversation went as such.

"Hi Julia, what's up? - No, don't. - Please Julia, let it be. - I know you care but I don't want to meet another loser who'll tell me I'm fat and have to do all sorts of sexual shit that I don't want to do if I want a date."

She slouched down a bit further into her seat as though she was trying to be quiet, that made me listen all the more intently.

"Well screw them, I may be fat and lonely but I'm not some cheap slut or piece of tail. It's gonna take more than a fried chicken special at Cracker Barrel to get in my pants. - I know how old I am, did you think I'd forgotten? -- I may very well die a spinster, but I'd rather do that than having somebody stick something in my butt that doesn't belong there. And what's with this shaved hoohah phase? Not me.

Listen hon, I appreciate your efforts, but I'm gonna let whatever happens just happen. If there's somebody out there for me, he'll find me. -- Love you too."

Discontinuing the call she began looking around, first at the three people several seats away who were lost in the ear buds, then to the vacant seats beside her. As she began turning to look at me I closed my eyes as though I was asleep. I heard her whisper to herself, "thank God."

My stop was before hers, as I walked by I looked down, caught her eye and smiled. She grinned politely and averted my eyes any longer. She was indeed bigger than chubby, wide in the hips, heavy in the chest and had thick legs, but I wouldn't call her obese. I noticed she had on enough makeup to enhance without looking like she'd applied it with a trowel. Her facial features were soft and feminine, I loved the long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders. I'd never thought about how glasses looked on someone previously, but I found hers to be an accessory to her beauty and not a detriment.

I was used to people not looking at me, turning away quickly or simply diverting their gaze. I'm the guy who's been called weird his entire life, for you see, one of my eyes points inward instead of straight ahead like the other. When I was a boy the doctors had all kinds of supposed remedies for what they called "lazy eye", not one of their endeavors helped in the slightest. It went so far as to having a special surgery when I was a senior, it lasted less than a year before my previous condition was back. I could see well, but it freaked people out never knowing which eye to look at. If I wanted to screw with their mind, I'd move them back and forth, they would generally walk away in a hurry.

Although the rain had let up I became wetter walking the block and a half to my house. After putting my bike in the garage I stomped and shook my body before I walked in the back door, I stripped as soon as the door was closed. The warm water of the shower felt wonderful, refreshing, it was reinvigorating my energy. Considering I'd gotten home later than usual I ordered Chinese delivery. With my belly full I sat in the easy chair pondering the conversation I'd overheard on the bus.

When I'd looked down at her I could see the outline of a bra through the wetness of her blouse. It wasn't a super thick utilitarian number with shoulder straps an inch wide, instead it looked soft, and though her breasts were large it appeared to be comfy. I noticed it had a faint floral pattern, the more I thought about it in my easy chair the more I wondered if a girl like her could find a place for me in her life. She was overweight and lonely, I was a freak of nature and just as lonely.

The forecast for the next day was intermittent rain showers throughout the day. Well shit, that could mean just about anything, once again I found myself muttering, "damned weather guys" as I grabbed a slicker to carry along. I could have taken my late model car and left the bike at home, but as long as the skies were clear I was going to ride. After all, if it was raining, maybe I would encounter that lady on the bus again. Who knows where todays conversation might lead?

I don't have a college degree, I took general courses for two years and dropped out. If the political bullshit could have been avoided I may have finished, but I was sick of being told how I had to believe this or that knowing history proved otherwise. I ended up saying to myself, "fuck um", I'll go find a job, which I did. I'm an expeditor at a large warehouse that delivers fruit and vegetables, better known as a produce distributor. Trucks would pull in and out all day long, some delivering, some taking, I was never at a loss for something to be done.

It was my responsibility to make sure what was on the invoice got onto the truck and sent to the proper place for delivery. Once it was out of the facility it was out of my hands. There were a lot of long hour days that at times which could be quite tiring, but in the end, it was a somewhat perfect job for me. I seldom had to interact with others, what I did was mainly from within the four walls of my office and that was in the middle of the warehouse. Operators would stop at the office, get the next invoice and take off. Once it was loaded and documented they'd return the pick slip and grab the next order.

I was 29, five foot nine, average build, had money in the bank and an affordable mortgage on my house. The late model Elantra in the garage was paid for and I was contributing the maximum to my 401K. Other than my errant eye I looked like every other nobody walking up and down the street. The next day it had thundered and rained throughout the afternoon, by the time I was ready to ride home the skies were clear as a bell, but I wasn't willing to take a chance. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to toss my bike in the bus rack and see if I could find her again. To my delight she was already on, third seat from the back on the right-hand side, exactly where she'd been the day before.

I had been in the seat behind her the previous day and saw that it was open, walking to the back I took the time to check her out again while her head was looking down at her phone. Her breasts were huge, they had to stand out from her body at least six inches. When I got home that night I looked it up, a breast that size would be considered a DDD cup in the states, an E cup in Europe. Her top was a bright white number that had a satiny look to it, her skirt was a dark grey, the hem ended three or four inches above her knees. On her feet were sensible walking shoes, it was obvious she had been riding this bus for a long time.

As before, the first half of the ride was noisy, busy, and at times raucous. People can get their undies in a twist for the most ridiculous reasons, the second half was quiet and the riders sparse. As if on que her phone rang.

"Hello. Yes, my name is Fiona. - No, she didn't mention you. -- I'm sure you're a real catch but I've never met you and I'm not interested in a hook up. -- Oh, I'm sure you'd rock my world, you're missing one thing. I don't want my world to be rocked, I simply want to be loved. -- No, screw you loser."

At least I had a name. Under her breath she sighed, "fucking idiots." I determined at that point that I was going to get to meet her somehow, and the sooner the better. Walking by her I looked down as I had the night before, this time her gaze held mine more than a second, I actually saw the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. This time I had the foresight to begin looking over her shoulder as soon as I stood, something that caught my immediate attention were the nylon clad legs beyond the hem of her skirt. Mmmm, a girl after my own heart.

Looking down the very front of her blouse I observed the gap between her breasts. I love cleavage, I love big tits, I love the thought of burying my face between them until I pass out from a lack of oxygen. It's not as though I'd never seen breasts before, I'd had some fun times with a few girls along the way, but they had all been average size in every way. I'd had an intimate relationship more than a few nights, as long as we didn't remain in public for very long. I must be a fairly decent lay or they wouldn't have enthusiastically participated. Yet, I always wondered what it might be like to lose myself in a pair of big tits.

Looking back over my shoulder when I was a half-step beyond her seat I spoke softly. "Goodnight Fiona."

Her head snapped up, as I descended the steps on the bus I looked back to find her staring at me. I wanted to smile and wave but thought better of it. Being late a second night I wondered about something to eat and then remembered that a food truck was usually parked in the play area parking lot this time of day if the weather cooperated. I'd had their enchiladas before and loved them, ah, saved by the food truck. I was watching some comedian on TV when I heard him mention his girlfriend wasn't fat, she was fluffy.

There it was, I immediately cast aside every stereo type I'd ever heard mentioned for an overweight person and smiled. Fiona wasn't fat, she was fluffy, and I liked her fluffiness. Now, if I could just get my hands on all that fluffiness. The following morning there was another rainstorm making its way through our area, there was no debate as whether I'd drive to work. I didn't see Fiona again until the following Friday. I live on the outskirts of town and still grocery shop at the local store that's been there for over 50 years. It had been an IGA when I was a boy, then it became a Kroger's and now it was a Piggly Wiggly.

While shopping the pig who did I see coming down the aisle going the other way? Fiona. I wasn't sure if I should greet her or let her walk on by. We were about to pass one another when she looked up and with a gasp she stopped. With a half-smile she pointed at me.

"You're the guy on the bus. Why are you shopping here, do you live around this area?"

"As a matter of fact I do. I have all my life. I work in town and live out here."

She chuckled, "Me to, I work in town but live three blocks from here on Avalon."

I was pleasantly surprised, "Really, are you serious?"

Just then I realized a woman behind her wanted to get by, I started to back up only to run into the cart of the woman behind me. I quickly pushed forward far enough for both women to get by and turned my attention back to Fiona.

"This isn't a very good spot for a conversation. Would you like to have a coffee with me later this afternoon?"

She frowned, "Mmm, I can't. My friend's four-year-old is having a birthday party later today."

"Oh, is that Julia's boy?"

Bad move. She stood rigid and snarled, "Were you listening to my private conversation? You dick head."

And away she went stomping down the aisle. She must have left right away because I didn't see her again during the time I shopped. I chalked it to another situation that could have been avoided had I kept my mouth shut, there were times that seemed to be the story of my life. I stopped riding the bus altogether, raining or not, I now carried a rain suit in the saddle bag and rode home in the rain if it came to that. Either that or I'd take my car. I hadn't seen Fiona for some time having written her off as nothing more than a fleeting moment in my otherwise dull life. There's a line in an old Jim Morrison song that says, "women seem wicked when you're unwanted", I'd come to expect nothing more.

It wasn't that I didn't have my fair share of women glance at me, that is until they had to look into my eyes, after that it was basically adios. Fiona had been one of the few who didn't seem to care. The first had been a professor in my sophomore year, she took me under her wing as well as under her body. We'd been rolling around in her bed almost a month when the real person came to the surface. She wanted to do the handcuffs and me being her slave bullshit, that lasted as long as it took her to say what she expected of me. I couldn't leave fast enough.

The second was a housewife whom I didn't know was a housewife. She never wore a wedding ring and never indicated in any shape or form that she had a family. We'd been meeting for an early dinner and then adjourning to a hotel room which she always paid for. This had been happening at least once a week for almost two months when who should show up at our table one evening, yup, her hubby and two little ones. Well shit, I felt like a complete asshole. I was so pissed at her I couldn't talk. It was the husband who spoke.

"Don't worry about it buddy, we have an open marriage, she can be with who she wants. It's just that tonight is going to be my night out and she's supposed to watch the kids."

I was so flabbergasted I tossed a hundred on the table and left. I found myself wondering why people exchanged wedding vows if they're gonna screw everybody they come in contact with? I was pretty sure there was a sentence in their vows that stated, "forsaking all others", or something close to that effect. That was my last serious bout of having intercourse on a regular basis. I'd done the hook up thing a few times when it got so bad my balls ached, but it always left me feeling lousy inside. Surely there had to be someone for me somewhere.

The place we referred to as town was actually a city of eight thousand now, where I live had once been a small community a few miles from the city. As with so many places, the city slowly encroached upon our community absorbing it a fraction at a time. It had become no more than a bedroom community these days, there were those of us who had grown up here, but the majority were transplants. No one really minded other than them wanting to poison our community with the big city things they so desperately wanted to get away from.

Each fall our little town has a harvest festival/craftshow that literally closes a third of main street for vendors. Traffic is re-routed parallel on side streets around the street closure. The festival is made up of mostly bangles and bobbles along with some of the locals selling late season produce. My dad spent his retirement in the little shop off the side of our garage, in it he made domed chests, making the domes from numerous pieces cut at the right angle, glued and then sanded into a smooth surface. He would take these chests of about 14" deep by 24" long and 20" high at the highest point of the dome to the craft fair each fall and sell them.

When he passed on there were so many people calling about domed chests and when they could get one that I started making them as well. This fall I had 17 chests in the trailer, with one of each type of wood on display, of course, the more costly the wood the more costly the chest. It was nearly the end of the day with only three chests left, I determined I was going to hold out until the last minute in hopes of selling the rest. I was dealing with a customer on the very last chest as the cops were taking down the barriers and opening the street to through traffic, most other vendors had left an hour or more ago. I was on a side street so there was no great hurry. As I was folding display tables and putting them away I heard a voice speaking to my back.

"Do you have any more? I would really like one."

I turned and made my way toward the voice, looking up after I'd stepped from the trailer my countenance changed. Standing in front of me was none other than Fiona. She seemed as surprised as I was, spitting and sputtering, looking for words. I said nothing as I waited for her to speak.

"Oh, it's you. I didn't know you worked for the guy who makes these. Do you know if he has any more at home?"

I decided to play along, "He does. He has one in pine that he just finished and one in oak that needs another coat of varnish. The pine is $375, the oak $450."

"How soon do you think he'd let me see them?"

"Give me your name and number, I'll have him call you."

She was looking at me suspiciously, "You have my name, now you want my number. How do I know you won't just keep it so you can harass me? How about this, why don't you write down the address and I'll go see him myself."

I smiled, grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled my address. Handing it to her she wondered if I knew what time might be good the following day.

"Probably after lunch, he's usually in the shop by then on the weekends. His name is John."

"John what?"

"John Smith."

"You're bullshittin me, nobody's real name is John Smith."

I laughed, "His is, should I tell him you'll stop by in the afternoon?"

She shrugged, "Sure. Goodbye."

I watched her fluffy ass wiggle as she strode away, those snug blue jeans made it look all the more tantalizing. I had made sure I looked in her eyes all the while I spoke with her, but through my peripheral vision I could see those large mammary pushing tightly against the sweater. Once again, I imagined holding them while I sucked a big fat nipple deep into my mouth, lying in the valley of her thighs while I stroked in and out slowly. Her juices flowing copiously as she moaned in my ear for more. It wasn't likely to happen, but I could still dream.

I made my way to the shop around nine the next morning breaking for a snack at eleven thirty. Sitting on a work bench with my feet dangling I heard a car door slam, then the click of hard shoes on the drive. I looked up as she walked in, she appeared dressed for church, a dress with a flowing skirt, the bodice wasn't tight but there was no question she was well endowed. When she saw me she stopped, her body stiffened as she looked around the shop.

"Where's mister Smith? I came to see him, not you."

I had the upper hand and determined I would keep it as long as possible.

"Speaking."

"Wait? What? Your mister Smith, but he's an older man, my mom said so. She's the one who sent me to the craft show."

"That would be my late father, he's been gone a few years. It's only me now."

She made a gesture with her hand in a sweeping motion, "This is you? You make the chests?"

"It is, I thought you were going to stop by after lunch? Would you like a chair, there's one by the makeshift desk."

Dragging the chair closer to where I was seated she sat down, the swish of the nylons as she crossed her legs garnered my immediate attention. The dress was over her knees, nothing showing buy calves and dark blue 3-inch heels, that had obviously been the clicking sound I'd heard.