He Likes My Ass Pt. 01

All portrayed as having a sexual relationship are at least 18 years of age.

*****

There are few things in life more erotic to me than having a cute guy staring at my ass. Unlike a lot of girls, I like my ass, it's a little bigger than average for a girl my size, it's not a bubble butt or look like a pair of basketballs stuffed inside a pair of jeans. My ass is nicely rounded and supported by a pair of thighs that could crush your head if I didn't exercise restraint when a cute guy is getting me off with his tongue. My hips accommodate my lower body, I don't have what is commonly referred to as a rack but I still fill out my shirts and sweaters quite well. I've never had a guy complain if I drop one of my thick hard nipples between his lips to suck and nibble.

I was at the post office bent over the passenger seat as I stuffed items into the mailer I'd just purchased. It was a warm day, I had purposely dressed for warmer temps, digging through the dresser until I found the jean shorts that were so tight you could see my pussy if the fabric wasn't so thick, along with being tight they ended at the crotch. You've seen them, short jeans rolled up once to make them look like a pair of boy shorts more so than a pair of jean shorts. I noticed he was fairly tall, or at least he appeared tall sitting in his pickup, had longer dark brown hair and a beard a few inches long.

I sensed him looking at my ass, the shorts were so tight all he could possibly see was the soft globes beckoning to him, my top was loose and hung down as I bent over. Moving a bit to the side I knew he'd be able to see all the way from my waist to my breasts if he looked under my top, I could tell he was looking as my 38 DD's hung out of my bra. He sat in the truck longer than I thought made sense, that is until I realized he probably had a hardon. Mmmm, my kind of guy.

I was backing away from my car and closing the door as he slid off the seat onto the pavement. I had been right, he was tall, very tall, hair pulled back in a ponytail, bib overalls with no shirt, muscles pushing out the sides, a small waist and from the lump on the front of his bibs I assumed a nice package. Looking down I noticed mortar on his shoes and bibs, surmising he was a mason of some sort. He was so damned cute and sexy I wished I'd worn more than a skimpy little thong, because they were already soaked through.

He lowered his sunglasses slightly as he beckoned me to go before him softly saying, "Ma'am" and then gesturing with a ladies first kind of movement. I knew he was watching my ass and I made it work overtime, just knowing he was watching I nearly creamed my jeans standing in line. I determined then and there I was going to get to know this guy, I wanted his meat buried inside me, no if's, and's, or but's about it. I just wasn't sure how I'd accomplish that.

When he exited, I was leaning down looking at my front tire as though something was wrong. He stopped and removed his sunglasses looking at the tire alongside me.

"Somethin wrong with your tire ma'am? It looks okay to me."

I threw caution to the wind. "Nope, nuthin wrong with my tire. I just wanted to meet you. How am I doin?"

We stood almost at the same moment as he stuck out his hand to shake mine, I'm not used to that and wasn't sure how to react. I'm used to some perv trying to grab my tit or feel my ass, yes, I know I dress seductively at times but that doesn't give them the right to paw without my consent. Dirty little fuckers.

I put my hand in his and was amazed at how gentle he seemed, though the size of his hand thoroughly encompassed mine and was obviously much stronger, his grip was solid without being over bearing. Turning my hand over while still holding onto it he smiled.

"Such a tiny little thing, nice handshake though. I hate it when someone plops their hand in mine like theirs is a dead fish, makes me wanna slap the shit out of whoever raised them for not showing them how to do it right. Well, now that I've met you and you've met me how do you like me so far?"

This guy was not only cum in my panties cute as hell he was fun and funny. I loved his personality, confident without being arrogant. Grabbing the fob hanging out of the bibs he quickly glanced at the pocket watch and winced.

"Geez, I gotta go, my lunch is nearly over." Handing me a business card he told me to text him after four as he backed out. Then yelled as he drove away, "If I don't hear from ya it was nice to meet you."

I had to have looked like a deer in headlights as they say, never have figured out exactly what that meant, hell I've never even seen a deer in the wild. What the hell do headlights have to do with deer anyway? My head was going in circles, it sure seemed as if this hunk liked me at least a little, why would he have told me to text him otherwise. And a pocket watch, who the hell uses a pocket watch anymore? The only ones I'd ever seen were in my grandpa's dresser drawer, he no longer used them, they stayed hidden in that drawer.

His demeanor certainly didn't fit his size. I expected him to be gruff and difficult to be around, this joker was the exact opposite. I determined I was going to text him after four, maybe we could go for a beer and a burger or something. I'm an ER nurse, it was my two-day break between shift changes which gave me plenty of time to get ready. Mom said I looked flustered when I popped in the kitchen door. Flustered, to her it meant a bit too warm and probably in need of some liquid ... to me it meant I was so horny for that guy I was ready to straddle a cucumber and ride until I squirted.

I'm fortunate enough to have a bedroom with an attached bath, in Europe they call them an en-suite, what is that all about? Never mind, doesn't matter. I instantly worked my shorts below my hips and across my luscious looking ass, an ass that could take a solid pounding and still want more. I felt the juice dribble down my leg when I pulled the gusset away, I had never been this wet before in my entire life. In the shower I caressed my breasts, tweaking the nipples and stimulating them in the way I knew would radiate to my nether region. While I worked my nipples with one hand the other was in my bush but not on my clit.

My pussy was wanting those feelings to flow through her and cum all over the shower floor, I thought about it then decided I'd wait and see where the evening went. If he didn't dick me, I had my trusty green dildo with the life size head and girth to plunge deep within my body, it wouldn't be the first time my Martian friend helped out. I don't shave my pussy and am not about to start for anyone, if his pecker isn't strong enough to part a few hairs then I'm too much woman for him. I took a short nap waking around three.

I chose a pair of cotton shorts similar to the jean shorts I'd worn earlier, they were a dark blue and I made sure I wore thicker cotton panties, I didn't want light colored shorts in case I leaked through. I wore a flowery print blouse and some nicer looking sandals. I seldom wear makeup, it simply isn't conducive to my job, today I did, just a light smattering to bring out the features without over doing the look. I pulled my hair back and pinned it so it would be off my neck. Looking in the wall mirror I turned both ways, slapped my ass and said, "Let's go get um girl."

As I walked into the kitchen mom asked why I was all dolled up. I told her I'd met a guy at the post office, she immediately wanted to know if he was taking me out on a date. I told her I had no idea, he just said to text him after four, which was right now.

Me: Hi, this is the girl from the post office, the one in the jean shorts."

Him: Oh yes, how could I forget those lovely shorts, and what was in them. Tell me, is all of that real or did you have it enhanced?"

Me: Oh no, it's all real. You like?"

Him: Yup, me like. You up for a burger and a beer? My treat?"

Me: Sure, where shall I meet you?

Him: You aint meeting me anywhere. Send your address and I'll pick you up at five thirty. Wear shorts again, not trying to be forward, but I like your ass."

Me: I'll be on the front porch with mom, just honk.

Him: Not gonna honk. What kinda shit head does that? I'll walk up and meet your mom. 5:30, be ready.

The incredulity must have been all over my face, mom ushered me backward until my legs hit a chair and I plunked my ass on the seat.

"What is it honey? What did he say? Do I need to find dad's shotgun? I think I know where he kept it."

"Mom, he said he wasn't going to meet me anywhere. He insists on picking me up and meeting you. Just so you know ma, he's a big man, I mean really big."

"Well honey that's okay, we can all stand to lose a few pounds."

"No ma, that's not what I mean. He doesn't have any pounds to lose, he's at least six foot four and solid as a brick house. His shoulders are wide, his arms bulge, he has a slender waist. Ma, this hunk wants to take me out, oh, and he said he likes my butt."

"What sort of comment is that for a man to make about a lady, especially to her face? My goodness, what has this crazy world come to?"

"I liked it mom, and I like him. I knew as soon as he shook my hand, I wanted more of this guy in my life. I only hope he feels the same. Who knows ma, maybe you'll get me married off and outa your hair after all."

It had been a joke between mother and I since I'd graduated nursing school, passed my RN exam and got hired in the ER. When I came home with my first adult paycheck she chuckled and said, "Now if we could just find you a husband."

I love my work, the variety, the challenges, the rewards of seeing someone you saved from the clutches of death as they leave the hospital with family. I loved it all and I'm good at what I do, but deep down inside I also wanted to be a wife and mommy. I wanted to be to my kids what my mom had always been to me, a solid foundation, a safe port when the storms came and the wind in my sails when I thought I might be dead in the water. Yes, I'm flirty and sometimes raucous in my behavior, I've bedded my share of guys and I'm alright with that. However, at 27 I've reached that place in my life where wanting to meet mister right and settle down seems to be the main focus.

I wondered if big dick overalls might be the guy. He was certainly handsome enough to get in any girl's panties, why did he want in mine? That would be the sixty four thousand dollar question I'd need answered before the night was through. He didn't seem to be much older than me, if we did hit it off and settle down, we would have lots of years together. Knowing that sitting around wondering wasn't going to solve anything I put it out of my mind, donned an apron and helped mother finish bottling pickles.

We were on the front porch when he pulled up five minutes early. As he walked around to the back of the car mom squeezed my hand.

"My God Karen, he's quite a hunk isn't he. He can park his shoes under my bed if it doesn't work out for you."

I looked at her like a dog at a new dish and whispered, "Who are you, and what have you done with my matronly mother?"

"I'm still your mother, just because your father has passed on and is no longer here to take care of my needs doesn't mean the equipment isn't still working. I get horny just like you get horny, it's just that at sixty three my need isn't as great as yours."

At the top of the two steps he leaned gently toward mom, took her hand and kissed it.

"Hi, I'm Stan, I trust I have your permission to take ... well, whatever her name is out to supper. I'll have her home by nine."

Mother giggled like a schoolgirl and squirmed in her chair, if I didn't know better, I'd have thought she climaxed on the spot. Then again, maybe she did. Mom looked at me, then at him.

"You don't know each other's names yet? This ought to be a fun evening. Oh, and never mind the having her home by nine BS Eddie Haskel, she hasn't had a curfew since she was a senior in high school. You kids have fun, now go."

Stan escorted me to the car, opened my door and refrained from ogling me as I got in. I found myself thinking who the hell is Eddie Haskell along with where has this guy been all my life? I just hope this isn't a ruse to get me into bed and then dump me as he brags to his buddies. He doesn't seem that way, but then, most of them don't. He had a Bad Company CD playing as we drove, singing along every so softly half under his breath. I thought what the hell and joined in, the smile on his face would have gone around his head if he didn't have ears.

He took me to a place called Whisky Corner, somewhere I'd never been before. My first concern was what kind of dump is this gonna be? I wasn't looking forward to shouting over loud juke box music and listening to guys cuss over their stupid game of pool. As I looked at him that train of thought subsided, he wasn't dressed like that sort of place. He had on a nice cotton shirt buttoned to the top of his chest with a few hairs falling out the opening, I imagined my fingers tangled in that chest full of hair as he made love to me missionary. His jean weren't tight, at the same time they weren't baggy, they seemed to fit just right, his foot ware surprised me, leather sandals with black ankle socks, they were nicer ones, sandals none the less.

As we walked in, I was impressed. There was a full-length bar to the left, a small stage at the back of a big room and an area lined with tables and booths near the back. The bartender greeted us and motioned to seat ourselves, at a table he politely pulled a chair out for me then scooting it forward as I sat. A girl could get used to treatment like that quickly. The bar girl brought over two ice cold tap beers, Stan asked for a few minutes to look at the menu. He told me he ate there often and enjoyed their bacon cheeseburger as well as the grilled chicken sandwich.

After ordering we chatted. I asked him why the sandals?

"I have to wear those hard toe shoes all day and by days end I just want my feet to breathe. The shoes are hot and uncomfortable, for safety reasons I need to wear them, but I'd rather go barefoot. Before you ask, I'm a brick layer, which is different from the guys who do flat work. At times I lay block, but mostly it's just brick work, that's why I was all sweaty and full of mortar earlier. Yeah, I saw you looking."

I chuckled indicating you caught me then spoke up.

"I'm an ER nurse, I haven't been there long enough to work the same shift all the time, like most of us nurses we work swing shifts, it's really the only fair way to divvy it up. I work four ten's and then I'm off two days. Holidays, weekends, they're all just another day in the ER. I'm 27 and live with my mom, still looking for mister right and the white picket fence if that makes sense to you."

"Makes perfect sense, I'm 29 and you'll be surprised to know I too live with my mom. Dad died a few years ago and I just feel like she needs me until I find the right girl to have a family with. My size and my job seem to not be what todays ultra-feminine women are looking for. I had a steady girl a few years back, thought she was the real deal until I caught her cheating with what I thought was my best friend. A lawyer, guess I wasn't high enough on the food chain for her."

I was grinning when I spoke, "You said earlier in our texts that you like my butt. Care to explain?"

"Only if I'm allowed to use simple terms and you don't get upset." I nodded my approval. "It's simple, I like your butt, I think it's attractive. Others may not but I do. To be honest, I'm tired of the diva's who want someone to fawn over them constantly. They don't know what they want or how to get it. It's always all about them, if they gain a pound somehow it's the guys fault and he hears about it ad nauseum. Mom has a plate on the kitchen wall, she was raised on a dairy farm and her mom always had that plate in the kitchen. It says, a barn full of cows and a plump wife, what more can a man ask for."

"So, is that what you're looking for Stan, a plump woman and a barn full of cows?"

"No, the inference is that one doesn't need all the trappings of life and society to be happy. A house full of kids and a wife who loves you are far more important than things. Most men I know will work like a dog to make sure his wife is happy and taken care of, sadly many of those marriages fall apart. He forgets she still needs attention and affectio she thinks because he works all the time and doesn't give her the attention she needs he no longer loves her. It's a vicious circle."

Listening to him reminded me of my late father, daddy was a practical man and said many of the same things Stan had just stated. Could it be that I might be looking at my dad? They say a girl marries her dad and a boy marries his mother in theory.

"I agree Stan, it happens all too often. So how does a couple prevent that from happening?"

"My ma is a pretty sharp old gal, as I'm sure your mom is as well. Her theory is this, men use love to get sex, women use sex to get love, if a man and woman can find common ground both get what they want without the other feeling used. I'm not sure how, but that makes sense to me."

We'd been talking so much we'd barely touched our beer when the meal arrived, Stan was correct, the grilled chicken sandwich was delicious. He had the double bacon cheeseburger with fries, then ordered a huge piece of cheesecake. Watching him I wondered where he put it all and still stayed thin, then it struck me, he probably burns thousands of calories a day laying brick. That would explain his appetite and why it didn't all turn to fat. I wasn't in the same boat as Stan but running around an ER for ten hours tends to burn lots of calories as well.

Before we knew it there was a small three piece band setting up and tuning. I was surprised, Stan wasn't, he was grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

With his big toothy grin he asked if I liked to dance, with me responding that I loved to dance. He went to the bar for two more drafts while I made my way to the ladies to freshen up. I'd brought a second pair of panties in case I flooded the first pair, sitting on the pot I noticed they were damp, but not overflowing as they had been earlier in the day. I began to question why. Was I not turned on by him? Of course I was, I'd bed him in a heart beat if he asked. Was I just being a horn dog earlier at the post office? Then I realized something, I was aroused by him, but not in a possessive way, I didn't need to fuck him to feel good about myself. He made me feel safe, desirous and wanted without feeling tawdry about it. Yes, I liked this man.

The band played an eclectic mix of older rock, some country and a few of the mid-70's rock classics. We boot scooted, jitter bugged and did a line dance once. As our evening was coming to an end, he scooped me in his arms for a slow number. Holding me in a standard dance position he wisk me across the floor with elegance and ease, leading me with strength and yet gently. I marveled at how this big hunk of human could be so light on his feet. As the song neared the end he pulled me close to his body, my breasts were pushed and smushed against his hard chest, his leg was grazing across the front of mine, I so wanted to ram my body forward and ride his leg like a dog in heat. I didn't though, I didn't want to possibly ruin the moment.

As the song ended, he lifted my chin and kissed me softly, whispering, "I like you." Then just like that we were at our table gathering my purse and heading for the door, me on his arm. At the door a couple were coming in as we were going out. I heard her say *Stan, is that you?* We stopped long enough for him to acknowledge them, then gently pulled me along with him as we exited the premises. He looked pissed, I didn't think I'd done anything to set him off and quickly determined it must have been the couple we passed. In the car I leaned over the console and asked for another kiss. His lips were soft and inviting, making me want more. Leaning back, I asked if the couple walking in were the reason he was upset.