Popcorn Pleasure

Summary: 18-year-old guy discovers the joys of a BBW MILF.

Note 1: This is a short little piece for the one day "ON THE JOB" event.

Note 2: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, and Robert for editing.

*

These days, I only fuck girls with meat on their bones. Chubby girls, fat girls, big-boned girls.

I get razzed all the time for my so-called fetish (as my teammates call it) as with my being the starting quarterback at a top ten college, I can get pretty much any girl I want... which sounds cocky... and I suppose it is... but I don't make the rules of sexual hierarchy, I break them.

Big time (pun intended).

And it all began one summer when I was working at my small town's drive-in theatre, and I discovered BBW's will do all the things skinny girls won't.

I'd graduated high school, and was counting the days until I could get out of this small-ass town and head for college. Sure, I was a local hero of sorts, because in my junior and senior years I'd led our football team to back to back state championships, which were our first state championships in any sport... ever.

I'd also fucked pretty much every hot girl in town, including a few college girls who were also hot, but too dumb to attend a real college farther away.

I know... I sound like an asshole.

And I was one.

I'd been pumped up with so much hot air just because I could throw a football, I'd begun to believe the front page press I regularly received in my small town's shitty newspaper.

I had a full ride scholarship to a top ten school awaiting me, and was ready for the big time. That said, I was living with my single mom (my useless dad having disappeared when I was four), and I was working two summer jobs to help my mom.

One job was during the day, pumping gas at one of our two gas stations and also doing some small mechanics work... and evenings I was working at our run-down drive-in.

I also figured the work would keep me busy, and not bored out of my fucking mind.

What I didn't know was that it would change my life.

I did a variety of jobs at the drive-in, including sitting at the entrance collecting money, running the concession, and sometimes running the projector. I actually liked the job, as I got to see lots of people, but only had to talk to them a few seconds at a time (I enjoyed the constant flattery I still received, even though I knew it wasn't totally merited... I mean I had an amazing o-line that gave me enough time to pass the ball, and two college-bound receivers who made me look good with every pass they caught), and there was enough variety that I didn't get bored.

And there was Mrs. Horton who, along with her husband, owned the drive-in. She was the sweetest women I'd ever met. She was in her late forties, a large big-boned woman with an amazing smile, a warm heart, a jovial laugh, and just an all-around amazing woman. She also had huge tits, which I couldn't help but admire and drool over.

What I didn't like was her asshole of a husband, who treated her (and everyone else) like shit.

I'd been working there for two weeks before things got crazy. The asshole husband was going away for two weeks to check in on the other six drive-ins they owned across the state, and Mrs. Horton insisted I be given the responsibilities her husband usually had. That meant setting up, running the projector and closing up. It also meant a dollar raise, that I only received after Mrs. Horton insisted and her asshole of a husband eventually agreed... when she pointed out there'd be other duties as assigned.

Saturday

Her husband gone, the next evening Mrs. Horton came to work wearing a tight denim skirt and a blouse that didn't hide her big breasts at all. I mean she could never really hide her tits... they were huge... but the blouse she wore that evening seemed to accentuate them deliberately, and even go out of its way to draw attention to them.

She was making popcorn, just her and me in the canteen at the time, when she said, "Oh, shoot."

"What?" I asked, as I was setting up both cash registers.

"I got some popcorn in my blouse," she giggled.

Then she bent over to show me a couple kernels of freshly popped popcorn nestled deep within the cleavage of her voluptuous tits.

I was speechless.

"Can you take it out for me?" she surprised me by asking, "My hands are buttery and I don't want to stain my blouse. It's new."

"Um, sure," I said, stunned by the request and in awe of the vast cleavage I was first staring into, and then reaching into.

I grabbed two pieces of very lucky popcorn, and said, "There you go."

"You're a sweetheart," she smiled.

"A gent among gents," I joked.

Some other workers showed up a few minutes later, and I went and got the first film ready. It was a busy night, Saturdays always are, and I wasn't alone again with Mrs. Horton until we'd closed the canteen during the last fifteen minutes of the second film, like we always did.

To save money during this tough economy... drive-ins were a dying concept... it was just her and me cleaning up. Usually her husband was around, although typically not doing anything useful, but tonight it was just us.

She asked, "So... do you have a girlfriend, Neal?"

"Not anymore," I answered.

"What happened?" she asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"High school relationships are just that," I shrugged. "They finish in high school."

"I guess that makes sense," she nodded as she cleaned the inside of the popcorn maker.

"Yeah; even though she wanted to try, I wasn't interested in a long-distance relationship," I explained, which was true. Leaving town meant starting over, and I liked that prospect... I didn't want anything bringing me back home except for holidays with Mom.

"Makes sense," she said and then joked, "Plus, a handsome man like you wouldn't want a ball and chain hundreds of miles away."

"Exactly," I laughed, and joked, "it would make escaping from the pocket rather challenging."

"Pocket? Oh yes, quarterbacking. Think you'll start?" she asked.

"I've been told I'll have a good chance," I said. Truth was, their starting quarterback last year was returning, but I was likely better than him... but I'd have to prove it. High school to college football is quite a jump, and I knew I'd have to work my ass off to prove myself.

"I'll be watching every game," she said.

"I'm not sure they'll all be on television," I said.

"But they'll all be on the internet," she rebutted, something I didn't know.

"Oh, cool," I said, as she finished with the popcorn maker.

"Yes, otherwise I'll miss watching your cute butt in those tight pants," she revealed, as she walked over to me.

"What?" I asked, having heard her, but thinking I couldn't possibly have heard correctly.

"I mean you have a nice ass in those pants too, but they don't really showcase... your ass...et," she said.

Is she flirting with me? "Uh, thanks," I said, completely shocked by this come on.

She continued, looking at me a lot differently than she usually did, "But there's just something about a young guy's ass in football gear that gets me all revved up."

I was speechless. I was in loose-fitting sweat pants as part of the company's uniform, and I agree they weren't too flattering. Very loose fitting, so much so that even Jenna, a college girl working here who had a great ass, couldn't make them work.

And if that wasn't enough, the shocks kept coming. "But the good thing about these pants," she drawled, as in one swift movement she stuck her hand inside them, "is their quick and easy access."

"Mrs. Horton, w-w-what are you doing?" I stammered in shock, as she wrapped her buttery hand around my semi-erect dick. (I'd had a head start by staring at her tits a little too much.)

"First, it's Hannah when my husband isn't here," she said. "And second, have you ever had a buttery hand job?"

"N-n-no," I stammered, as she began jerking me off, the butter on her hands making an amazing lubricant. I'd always hated hand jobs; they were awkward, and if the hand was dry they weren't pleasurable at all. This one on the other hand, was very pleasurable.

But it was still Awkward.

And I was Shocked.

And the situation had suddenly become very Intense.

"I'm told they're very pleasurable," she smiled, as she slowly stroked my cock... her massive cleavage in clear view.

"B-b-but y-y-you're married," I moaned.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," she said, as she continued my hand job, while at the same time rubbing the head of my cock with her greasy thumb, which greatly enhanced the pleasure. "And besides, I've seen in your eyes that you don't like the way he treats me any better than I do, so neither of us owes him anything."

"Oh, God," I groaned, ready to come after only about thirty seconds.

"Come for me, Neal," she said, gazing into my eyes from very close. "I want to feel your warm cum shooting all over my hand."

"I have to, I can't hold back," I grunted a few seconds later, as I erupted with shocking intensity, shooting all over her hand, as well as into my underwear.

"Mmmmmmm, good boy," she moaned, apparently turned on from getting me off.

She continued stroking my cock for a few more seconds, then took her hand out and licked a big wad of cum off her palm and said, looking outside, "You'd better go get ready to shut down the projector."

"Y-y-yes, Mrs. Horton," I stammered, still in a complete daze.

"Hannah," she corrected, as she licked a little more cum off her hand. "Hank isn't here, remember?"

"Sorry... Hannah," I corrected, as I adjusted my cock and headed out, trying to process what had just happened.

Nothing else was said before I went home bewildered, and trying to process what had happened and what it might mean.

Sunday

The next evening our set-up went as usual. She asked about my day, like she always did; she asked about my mom, like she always did. She was again wearing a skirt, and a blouse that revealed much more of her tits than normal.

Except for the revealing blouse, nothing out of the ordinary.

Nothing that hinted at what had happened yesterday.

Oddly, I was disappointed. Oddly because this woman was older than my mother... in fact, I saw her as a mother figure. Yet I had still been hard when I got home last night, and had jerked off while replaying what had happened.

It wasn't as pleasurable as the buttery hand job, but it got me off.

From the moment I got to work, I was hard. Replaying yesterday... hoping for a sequel... yet she appeared oblivious to the impact she was now having on me.

Sunday was usually a smaller crowd, and tonight was no exception. So Hannah suggested, later in the night as I was about to go change reels for the second film, "Why don't you just stay in the projector booth and watch the film?"

"That'd be great," I said, having seen bits and pieces of the new Bond movie, but trying to avoid it as much as I could... waiting to see it in its entirety.

"Enjoy," she said.

"Thanks, I will," I said, heading to the booth.

I got everything set up, sat in the extremely comfortable lounge chair (that her husband spent a lot of time in while he avoided doing much work), and watched the film.

About an hour in, Hannah startled me by appearing and saying, "Bringing you a snack."

"Oh, thanks," I said, as I bolted upright from my reclined position.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, having brought a big bucket of popcorn with her.

"Of course not," I said, standing up to let her sit down in the only chair.

She surprised me again as she walked over to me, pulled my loose waistband open as well as my underwear, and dumped a bunch of popcorn around my dick...thankfully it wasn't very hot... but it was definitely buttery.

I was stunned.

She pushed me back down into the chair, handed me the rest of the popcorn, and sat on the armrest.

I was bewildered as she asked casually, as she reached into my pants and underwear to grab some popcorn, "How is the movie so far? You think 007 will come out on top?"

"He always does, but I haven't figured out how," I replied with a moan, as her hand brushed against my suddenly growing cock.

"I'll be unhappy when Daniel Craig isn't Bond anymore," she said, not looking at me, but the film, as she ate popcorn from around my crotch, acting as if her behaviour wasn't at all strange.

"Yeah, he has a persona of ruggedness that really makes him a believable Bond," I agreed, having argued with many over the whole Sean Connery vs Daniel Craig debate. I wouldn't even enter into a discussion with anyone who argued that Pierce Brosnan was the best Bond... he was a corruption of the entire franchise.

"And he's pretty hot for an older guy," she said, reaching back into my underwear for more popcorn, this time deliberately stroking my cock for a couple seconds before leaving with another handful of popcorn.

This was wild.

This wasn't even porn plot believable.

No one would ever believe this could happen.

Even I didn't believe it was believable, but even while I disbelieved, it was actually happening to me.

"Never thought much about that," I said, trying to act casual during this intense experience.

"I prefer younger men," she said, looking at me for the first time.

"A young Bond would be weird," I said, ignoring her rather blunt hint at preferring someone like me.

"Think a young Bond would be interested in older full-figured women?" she asked, as she reached back into my underwear.

"Welllllll, Mr. Bond is a man of impeccable taste, and he judges women based on every aspect of their beauty," I improvised, seeing a very sexy, vulnerable, possibly available woman next to me. I hadn't really seen her in any sort of sexual way before yesterday... other than her big stare-attable breasts... yet now I was seeing her as a sexual being... a big-boned temptress... a big, beautiful woman.

"I'd like to interact with a Bond like that," she said, as she stroked my cock again, although this time slowly... the excessive butter again making it feel amazing.

Gaining some confidence, I was usually very confident around women, but she'd had me rattled by her aggressiveness, I said, trying to be clever, "Well, I'm both a little shaken and stirred at the moment."

"Mmmmm," she said, "it feels like you have a concealed weapon in here."

"It's locked and loaded," I retorted slyly, feeling a rush at this wild wordplay.

She moved to her knees before me, fished out my cock and asked, as she smiled up at me, and once again stroked my cock slowly, "Tell me 006, as in even closer to the very best, do you have a license to thrill?"

I groaned, her buttery hand again driving me wild, "Oh God."

"I love your big cock, Neal," she purred, as she stroked my cock slowly, this time teasing me with a hand and finger.

"I love what you're doing," I moaned, she giving me pleasure unlike anything I'd ever experienced. No girl I'd dated had ever given my cock the attention Hannah currently was. She wasn't just stroking my dick, she was worshiping it.

"Do the young skinny girls ever do this?" she asked, as she leaned forward and not only took my cock in her mouth, but deep-throated the entire seven inches.

"Oh God," I moaned again, having never been deep throated by a girl. Most girls, if they even sucked cock at all, did it for only a minute or two, just enough for bragging rights that they'd done it.

She sucked for just a few seconds before sitting back up and asking, "Do the young skinny girls worship this big delicious cock like it deserves to be worshipped?"

She continued slowly rubbing her thumb around my cock head as I groaned, "Not really."

"That's a shame," she said, then licked my entire shaft. "Young skinny girls take their looks for granted, and they don't understand the usefulness of their bodies."

"Oh," was all I could think to say, as she swirled her tongue around my cock head.

"It's only older woman like me, big-boned women like me, who understand how to treat a big young cock," she said, as she took my cock back in her mouth and bobbed hungrily, moaning as she did. She was clearly enjoying sucking my cock, not just doing a brief, obligatory task.

"That's it, Hannah," I moaned, "suck my big cock."

"Mmmmmmmm," she moaned, devouring all seven of my inches with each lustful bob.

"Yes, you look so hot with my cock in your mouth," I moaned, appreciating just how true that was. She was indeed pretty, but likely always judged only by her weight... and I'd done the same thing. I hadn't originally seen her as a sexual being, but now I most certainly did. In two nights, she'd changed my entire perspective of how I judged people.

She moaned again as my balls began to boil.

Sensing I was close, she pulled away and asked, "Do your young skinny girls swallow?"

"Almost never," I answered honestly, as she returned to my cock and resumed giving me easily the best blow job of my life.

After a few more bobs I warned, wanting to make sure she knew, "I'm about to come."

She didn't slow down... and then I came... and then she swallowed every drop.

"Oh, fuck," I grunted, as my load finished spurting into her amazing mouth.

Once I finished coming she slowed down, but continued nursing my cock.

I complimented, while my cock was still in her mouth, "That was amazing."

She let my cock slip out of her mouth and said, "And it was delicious."

"You know, I'm kind of hungry myself," I said, having always gone down on the girls I dated... especially the few who put a valiant effort into sucking my cock.

"You are?" she asked, surprised.

I got up, pulled her up, and then gently turned her around and pushed her down into the chair. I finally lowered myself to my knees and parted her legs.

She said, suddenly looking self-conscious, "You don't have to do that."

"You're right, but I want to," I said, as I reached my hands around her wide hips and pulled her panties down.

"Nobody has been down there in a long time," she warned, looking so vulnerable, right after being so aggressive.

"That's a crying shame," I said, as I parted her legs wider and moved my mouth to her hairy pussy. Many young girls shaved their pussies, which I felt made them look like children. I preferred a woman with some hair covering her pussy. It made her more real... more feminine.

"Agreed," she said, as she trembled in anticipation.

I extended my tongue and parted her pussy lips through the forest of hair that was so authentically capturing her raw scent... and which drew me in even deeper, as I began licking.

"Ooooh, yes," she moaned.

Wanting to reassure her, knowing many women were self-conscious about how they tasted, and I could tell she was, I said, "You taste so good. Did I get you this wet?"

"Your big cock did," she moaned.

"Not my nice ass then?" I asked, as I wiggled my tongue up and down her very wet pussy.

"Not this time. You really should wear your football pants twenty-four-seven," she said, as I continued licking her.

I chuckled before really focussing on getting her off. I wanted to make her feel as good as she'd made me.

I probed her pussy.

I teased her clit.

I paid attention to her growing moans.

As they increased, she grabbed the back of my head and said, "Yes, baby, eat my pussy."

I took her aggressive demand as a directive, and began really attacking her clit.

"Oh yes, eat my fat cunt," she moaned, grinding her hips a bit.

I loved the word cunt, and hearing her say it really turned me on. I sucked her swollen clit between my lips and shook my head, carrying it along.

"Oh yes, mother fucker, yes," she moaned loudly.

I continued relentlessly pleasing her, and seconds later, she held my head roughly against her pussy, and came all over my face.