Sex At Hotel Excel Pt. 02

I worked at a hotel right out of high school and during my undergraduate years. These are my experiences with women in their rooms after hours. All characters are 18 and older.

A Man After Midnight: Sex at Hotel Excel Part 2

Biggest Tits Ever - Me & Mrs. Jones

Chapter One

Friday Afternoon

She had the largest tits I had ever seen! There's no other way to start this story. Big as pillows. How had she not had breast reduction surgery? This had to be the question on everyone's mind when first laying eyes on her.

Her name was Dorthea Jones. She checked in just before the end of my shift on a Friday afternoon for the African AME Church convention at Hotel Excel that weekend. Huge hips of a shelf ass rolled under her flower print dress as she turned from the front desk to follow me through the lobby. Her eyes had already raked me when we met at the entrance. She smiled when I greeted her and took her bags.

"Aren't you a little tall to be an bellhop?" she said snapping her purse closed.

"We come in all sizes," I smiled.

"Well you're the largest I've ever seen," she said. "I didn't know they made you in extra large."

"Hotel X-L," I joked as I pushed the button for the elevator. "We do everything big here."

"Mmm, I can see that," she said running eyes over me again letting them linger a moment below my waist.

I got the innuendo. It wasn't subtle. The bulge in my pants drew her eyes the same way her massive chest drew mine. The irony hadn't escaped me either. As with other women who flashed on my groin I wondered if she would do anything about it. Church lady? Probably not. Just a flirt.

Average height but boosted in block heels she carried the weight well. Clearly obese but not jowly with much of her bulk in legs and hips her torso narrowed at the waist and rocked a wide hourglass shape. It had to be some relief that a lot of the weight of her breasts rested on her large belly. At six-two I weighed 195. Best guess she had a hundred pounds on me. Her black hair was straightened, styled big and gelled in place. Red lipgloss a shade too bright filled full lips. Her cheeks were heavily rouged. Wedding band and diamond gracing her ring finger were almost lost amongst large rings on other fingers. A gold cross rested on bare skin just below her neck pointing right down to the groove of two titanic boobs pressed tightly together by what had to be a massive brassiere.

As much as her belly protruded her breasts stuck out farther making her look top heavy. Still she moved with dignity and grace gliding through the lobby. She asked about me in the elevator learning I was eighteen and college-bound. I learned she was thirty-six, married mom of two and proud to be elected to represent her church. Her scent filled Mr. Otis' moving box but not to overpowering. My nostrils flared to its allure.

A disapproving look creased her face when Mrs. Jones entered her room.

"Is it not what you expected?" I asked.

She hesitated but then smiled and said, "I suppose it'll do."

"We're pretty full this weekend, but there may be other rooms available which are more to your taste if you'd like to upgrade. All our suites are described in the hotel brochure," I said handing her the one from the credenza.

"I want to look at them before I decide," she said opening it.

"You don't have to decide right now," I said.

"Might as well before I get settled. Wait a sec while I look," she said reaching out and holding my forearm as if to prevent my escape. Her grip loosened but she held on for a few moments while perusing.

Arm touch. Contact. I knew this signal.

Mrs. Jones chose a suite one step up. A call to reception sealed it. I went down, exchanged keys, returned and showed her to her new room. She followed me into the bath where I turned on lights. It met with her approval.

Then it happened. When I tried slipping past her to exit the bathroom Mrs. Jones pressed in pinning me to the doorjamb with her large belly and breasts.

"Cute little butt," she said in a low sultry voice grabbing my ass with one hand, squeezing it and pulling my pelvis hard against her body.

Instantly my hands came up and caressed the sides of her huge tits. I lifted them, pushed them together, squeezed them, moved them. God they were heavy. But soft. Did I mention they were big?

We looked in each others eyes while she felt up my butt and I her chest. She smiled and bit her lip her eyes sparkling knowing her breasts had done their job.

"You are tight," she said squeezing my teen ass.

Still pinning me she moved to the side a bit. Her hand slid around front and felt my package. My hands didn't leave her tits. Not wanting to break long nails her fingers gingerly unhitched my belt and opened my uniform trousers.

"I gotta see what what you got hiding in here," she said unzipping me.

Her brown eyes had locked on my bulge the moment she walked in the lobby. Now her hand slipped inside for a feel. A week earlier Mrs. Devere had copped a feel of my junk from outside my trousers when first in her room but went no further right away. This was next level.

You may remember from my previous story how the standard issue uniform trousers trapped my big junk in one pant leg. These custom tailored ones didn't but showed ample bulge where it should be--front and center though offset to the left since I dress left.

Mrs. Jones' warm black hand followed my long hard on all the way off to my side and up past the waistband of my boxers. I felt the cool metal of her many rings on my cock.

"My Gawd," she said looking down at it.

I unbuttoned her dress down the front to her waist then spread it wide so her tits were out in their enormous black bra. I bent down and kissed her cleavage. She had fingers of one hand around my hard cock while the other held my balls. My legs opened to her hands and to squat down to her level a bit.

"Mmm... baby," she said letting go of my junk and pulling at my boxers.

I stopped kissing her cleavage and unbuttoned her dress below her waist.

"Take these off," she said tugging at my trousers.

When my erection swung free she took it in both hands.

"Are you going to last for me?" she said holding my cock with both hands.

"I will if you're on top," I said.

"Oh I'm gonna to be on top all right," she said letting go of me, dropping her dress, kicking off heels and shedding huge panties and brassiere. Gigantic tits bounced free and hung down to her navel.

It took me longer to get out of my bellhop uniform. Red waistcoat, blue tie, white shirt, black shoes polished to a high shine, then black trousers, boxers and socks. Mrs Jones was waiting for me on the bed when I was done.

"Mmm. My Gawd," she said again taking me in both hands. "I knew you'd be packing but not like this!"

On her side by my side she stroked me a few times then wrapped lips around my head leaving a ring of red lipstick just below my corona. Her eyes were riveted in fascination and admiration. She licked, sucked and kissed up and down the full length of my cock holding it in one hand while the other cupped my balls then caressed belly and thighs. Her huge soft tits rested against my torso while she worshipped my dick. She kissed down my rod then sucked my balls in her mouth moving them with her tongue. I caressed her huge thighs next to me. She opened them to my hands. My fingers moved though full bush, found wet pussy and fingered her.

I wondered how long she would worship my rod before getting on it. She sucked and slurped and licked and kissed like she hadn't had cock in a long time. My fingers were fully wet from her pussy before she started kissing up my belly to my chest, tasting, licking, sucking.

Without missing a beat she rose, straddled me and began moving her hips rubbing her labia back-n-forth along the length of my rod. I caressed her thighs then moved hands up to her massive tits. Her dark black areola were the size of saucers. A large thick nipple stood in the middle of each. I pinched and pulled them which made her gasp. I squeezed, moved and kneaded her breasts in my big hands. They must have weighed ten or fifteen pounds each. As her hips continued pumping she began gasping audibly. I loved the feeling of her open labia--her wet sex meat--rubbing the length of my hot meat.

"Don't mess up my face or my hair," she said lifting herself, wrapping fingers around my teen rod and guiding it into her pussy.

Pushing down she took most of me gasping at the pleasure of my entrance. Slowly sliding up and down she eventually pushed herself the rest of the way open on me. True to her faith she uttered the deity's name many times as she worked her momma pussy on my loveshaft. Next thing I knew I was balls deep in her--pelvis to pelvis.

"Ohhhh... ohhhh... oh fffffffffffffffffuuuck," she moaned eyes big in mine.

I raked fingers over her big nipples. Her huge hips began pumping.

"Stallion," she gasped. "White stallion."

"Hot black momma," I gasped. "Ride your white stallion."

"Imma grind you down to nuthin boy," she said in her sultry voice.

She rode me sitting upright. Her big soft belly pressed tightly to mine. I liked her weight pinning me to the bed.

+++++

Mrs. Jones wasn't the first heavy woman I had. That honor went to one of my older sister Peggy's friends named Sandy. Two years older than Peg who was two years older than I, Sandy lived with her parents in our neighborhood and attended the local community college. Youngest of her sibs Sandy was the last still living at home. Short and stocky like her parents she had thick thighs, a large booty and big tits. I'm a foot taller but she still had twenty pounds on me. Long blond hair spilled over her shoulders, pretty blue eyes sparkled from her angelic face and full lips revealed a radiant smile of perfectly straightened teeth.

A couple months after my eighteenth birthday Sandy invited me to her house on a cold, snowy Saturday night in February. Her folks had jetted to Boca Raton to escape winter for a week in the Florida sun. Sandy warmed me with hot mulled wine then with her hot tongue in my mouth on the sectional couch while a laserdisc of Star Wars played on the big projection screen tv in their media room. After smoking the first joint and getting naked she dropped her head into my lap and started sucking my joint. She squeezed my cock between her big warm tits and rubbed them all over me. When I stood to remove jeans she sucked my balls in her wide mouth. I brought two condoms and filled both during our two hour fuckfest. She cried out her orgasms to the night bucking on the big cock she wanted. She swore me to secrecy knowing my older sister would be angry if she found out we did it. It helped that Peggy was away at university.

Sandy wasn't the first of my older sister's neighborhood friends I fucked. They came out of the woodwork when I turned eighteen at Christmas--a couple of them that week with all the parties going on. We had to be extra careful with Peggy home on break but those stories are for another time. Suffice it to say they had all seen me in speedo and trunks at the pool where I lifeguarded summers and we had all been naked skinny dipping in the old quarry. They knew what I had between my legs.

Sandy's weight had pinned me on the couch then in her bed riding me that night--and would again when she could arrange it. We stared seeing each other from time to time fucking on the down low. She did not want to jeopardize her friendship with my sister. Sandy dated guys occasionally but had no regular boyfriend. Once a month or so she arranged a hook up. Her passion made me think she was ovulating.

+++++

Now Mrs. Jones pinned me on her hotel room bed her hips pumping madly. Despite her great solid weight everything about her body was soft, yielding and fluffy.

She hadn't mentioned condoms and neither had I. Nine inches deep in her wet married momma pussy I knew I'd be delivering my white boy seed soon. My shift had ended but still on the clock I knew I'd be fired if management found out. As with Mrs. Devere the week before I didn't fucking care. These ladies wanted to jump my cock and take my seed? Fine with me.

Mrs. Jones leaned forward, planted hands on the sheet above my shoulders and began moving her hips in circles grinding hard against my hard teen rod--screwing me. This dropped her humongous wobbly breasts either side of my face. I clasped one in both hands, pulled it to my pursed lips and began sucking its large thick nipple, kissing, licking and sucking the huge surrounding areola. Eyes closed she whimpered in bliss.

"How big are these?" I asked. "G?"

"H," she gasped.

I returned to the nipple I was sucking.

I pulled hard wondering if milk would come down from this massive mammary.

"Ohhhh... ohhhh... ohhh... Jesus Fuckin' Christ," she responded reaming out her pussy on my hot rigid blood filled eighteen year old loverod.

Suddenly there it was--her first streams of milk. My hands kneaded her breast as I suckled pull after pull out of her feeding on her African milk. Her deep pussy tightened on me. When that nipple yielded no more I switched to her other breast and suckled until it fed me. Small amounts of milk leaked from the nipple I had abandoned. I sucked it off her wide areola then returned to the other. Mrs. Jones' warm milk streamed between my teeth.

She lifted herself a bit, took hold of the headboard and slammed her pelvis to mine.

"Baby," she whimpered as she got close. "Ohhh! Oh baby. Oh my baby. Oh baby. Ohhh baby! Baby, baby, baby! Oh God! Oh fuck!"

I moved my hips opposite to hers intensifying the gyrating fuck she loved. Screwing.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she cried as she came.

She stopped moving but her orgasm didn't. I could feel the muscular contractions of her pelvis against my cock. Her back arched deeply. Her body trembled. Her thighs shook. Shivers ran through her. Mouth open, eyes closed, breath caught she got lost in the bliss of her body.

I suckled the last bit of free milk from that boob and lapped up the little still leaking from both. Panting she sat upright on me which pulled her tits away from my mouth. All nine inches of my thick cock stood straight upright inside her. I squeezed my cock in a kegel. She hummed and squeezed back. My hands caressed her big thighs on either side of me. She squeezed my torso with them and let go. Her eyes opened and looked down at me. The passionate, vulnerable look on her face melted into a wicked knowing smile.

"Stud," she said.

"Not stallion?" I said.

"Total stallion and stud," she said.

"Am I studding you?" I said.

"Someone beat you to it," she sighed.

"Congratulations," I said. "How far along are you?"

"Four months," she sighed.

"Boy or a girl?" I said.

"Girl I hope--I already have two boys," she said.

"Maybe next time around," I said.

"Oh no, no, no," she said shaking a finger side to side, "you are pure toy boy material with those pretty blue eyes."

"Hot momma," I said giving her a little pump of my hips.

"Nasty big white dick all up in me," she said. "Biggest I've ever seen."

Mrs. Jones slid off me and rolled to her back. Her tremendous breasts fell off to her sides. When I climbed on top of her she lifted her legs and wrapped them around me squeezing me between large soft thighs. With her pelvis tipped up to me it was easy to get inside her. Propped up on my arms I arched my back and pounded her pussy.

"Ooo. Ooo yes gimme gimme gimme stud," she hissed.

"Imma fill you hot momma!" I said.

"Yeh, yeh, fill yo momma white stallion!" she gasped.

On cue my big balls drew up tight and I shot my ample teen wad deep in her married momma pussy. It was my turn to utter "fffffffffffffffffffuuuck!"

Still smashed between her massive thighs she rocked me side to side. I loved it when women did this to me. Still do.

When I got off and started dressing Mrs. Jones rolled to her side, propped head on hand and watched me her eyes on my cock.

"Where you get that nasty thang?" she said.

"Runs in the family," I said swinging it side to side.

She watched it slap against my thighs and smiled her wicked smile.

"Is that all I get?" she said.

"I have to go--I''m supposed to be off the clock by now," I said.

"So go clock out. I'll still be here," she cooed.

Her smiling eyes were on mine waiting for an answer as I dressed the rest of the way.

"Okay," I said knotting and straightening my tie before turning to go.

"Hurry back," she said.

I did. She was still on naked on the bed. I didn't bother removing my uniform. Pants around ankles I fucked her hard and fast bent over the bed propped on her arms. Her giant bazongas wobbled and swayed and I swear my slim teen pelvis mushed a foot into the softness of her huge black backside with each thrust--the slapping sound it made was so loud I'm sure it could be heard out in the hallway. Orgiastic shivers ran through her tight fat thighs The arc of her lower back which gave her a shelf ass deepened as she arched her back even more between her shoulders and hips. I knew this reflex: it signaled she liked me hitting the deepest depths of her pleasure tube.

I rested big hands on her shelf then slid them forward, grabbed her waist and plowed her hard. She gasped, whimpered and moaned continuously. I slid hands from her waist grabbing, squeezing and kneading her giant milk-filled Gs. Her long deep receptive pussy was smooth, wet and tight on my aching hard shaft.

Then it happened. A song began playing in my head. "Me and Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones--we got a thing going on..."

--the Billy Paul hit from eight years before.

"We both know it's wrong/But it's much too strong/To let it go now..."

Mrs. Jones yelled when she came her whole body shaking. I didn't stop until I blasted another hot load of teen seed into her.

She curled up on the bed in post-O bliss. I pulled up boxers and trow, tucked shirt and buckled my belt.

"Are you in a hurry Michael?" she said.

"I have a ball game," I said. "I can't be late."

"Do you work again this weekend?" she said from bedroom eyes.

"Tomorrow night," I said.

"What time do you get off?"

"Eleven," I said.

"Will you come to me?"

"It will be late."

"I'll be waiting."

"Then yes."

Chapter Two - Friday Night

Beer-belly history-teacher baseball coach shut the door to the athletics office and hissed at me, "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all day."

"I picked up a shift at work," I said. "Didn't my folks tell you?"

"I couldn't reach anyone at your house. Look Mike we agreed you would not work on game days didn't we?" he said his voice strained with ire.

"Yes sir," I said. "I just..."

He cut me off before I could say I traded shifts with another bellhop as a favor.

"Never mind that," he said. "Frank sprained an ankle and can't pitch tonight."

Francis Drake was our number two starting pitcher. We called him Sir Francis after the 16th century English privateer and teased him about pirate gold and eye patches--not that Drake wore one. Frank took all the argh, argh, argh ribbing in stride and was a really good pitcher himself--for a right hander.

"How bad is it?" I said.

"He's on crutches," coach said.

"You gonna pitch Neal?" I said already knowing the answer and why the door to the office was closed.

"This is the conference quarterfinal," coach said in his serious quiet just-stay-calm voice. "Neal is good but I can't risk it. This team is too good. I want you to start tonight. How's your arm?"

I had pitched a complete game on Wednesday--a 3-2 nail biter win. I'd be going again on two days' rest.

"My arm is fine," I said. I've done it before.

"Not sore? No stiffness?"

"Not a bit," I lied. I was a pitcher. My arm was always sore.