The 19-year-old Virgin Ch. 05

I woke the next time when I felt the bed move as she rolled out and headed for the bathroom.

I glanced at the clock on the headboard and saw it was 6:04 and my body almost rebelled. But the good news was that there was enough light that I could watch her.

And in that instant, my taste in women was set.

Carla was a big girl, Don't get me wrong, not nearly as big as the later women in my life, but she was a big girl. As she walked away I saw her big ass swinging and in the light, I could see incipient rolls in her back and the dimples of cellulite. And I liked, very much, what a saw.

I waited, adopting my best Burt Reynolds pose from that centerfold in Cosmopolitan magazine pose, ankles crossed, chin propped on my palm, with my left hand strategically positioned to cover my burgeoning erection.

I heard the toilet flush and then the water running. Then there was that distinctive sound of gargling. I chuckled.

As she came back into the room, almost cartoonish in the way she was tiptoeing, I watched, enjoying the little show.

"Oh," she said with a soft, almost childish giggle, "you're awake."

I moved my hand, showing her the effect she had on me.

She smiled and came to the side of the bed. I enjoyed watching her. She moved with that fat woman's odd combination of grace and awkwardness. Her arms were slightly away from her body, the pads of fat at her armpits meaning she rubbed when she swung her arms if she didn't hold them like that. Each step made her boobs sway. I enjoyed watching her.

"And you are beautiful," I said, making her giggle a little.

She leaned over, boobs hanging, swaying gently, and kissed me, a little good morning peck.

"Go pee and brush your teeth," she said, smiling, "and we'll discuss who's the most beautiful."

I chuckled, rolled out of bed, kissed her, patted her ass, and went in to do as she said. I peed, shook, and went to the sink. There was one toothbrush and I figured after what we'd done, this was a pretty minor intrusion. I brushed my teeth and, praise God, found a bottle of Listerine so I rinsed thoroughly.

When I got back to the bedroom she had adopted the position I had held. Her head was propped on her palm, her left leg slightly bent and slightly forward with her hand covering her sex. Well, her pussy. Her boobs were very much on display, the big areolas tight wrinkled circles with the very pink, almost red nipples standing proudly.

"God, you ARE beautiful," I said and to my surprise, she blushed.

"Thank you, David," she said, "you flatter the fat girl."

I crawled onto the bed beside her, mirroring her position, and leaned forward until we kissed.

It was an awkward kiss. Neither of us was in a good position.

It was a good kiss. It was tender, gentle, and, yes, loving.

It was a kiss that lingered. Neither of us wanted it to end. My hand rested on the roundness of her hip and hers found the bone of mine.

It slowly turned into a great kiss. Our lips were brushing rather than pressing. Her tongue lightly brushed my lips and mine did the same.

It was a spectacular kiss. It became the kiss against which I measured all future kisses and found most of them wanting.

Finally, she broke the kiss, pulling far enough away so our eyes could focus on each other, laying her hand on my cheek. Again, I mirrored her movement, my hand laying very lightly on her cheek.

She took a deep breath and breathed out, "wow."

I took my own deep breath and breathed out, "yeah, wow."

I moved my hand to her shoulder and pushed, very gently. She was too big, and obviously understood the leverage too well, to actually "push" her over. But she responded to the gentle pressure and rolled onto her back.

I brushed the hair back from her face, clearing her forehead, and began exploring her with my fingertips, like a blind man. I liked the deep lines that formed when I tickled her forehead and the way her cheeks seemed to become more distinct when I brushed my fingertips across her eyelids and she sort of scrunched up her face. So I traced the roundness of her cheeks and she relaxed.

"Ewwww," she said softly as my fingertip explored the inside of her nose.

Her eyes opened and she met mine.

"A new kink?" she asked.

I smiled and kissed her.

"No, Carla," I said, my voice pitched low, "I just want to explore all of you."

"Oh, God," she sort of moaned, but closed her eyes.

I explored the inside of her nose then with my little fingertip, not "picking" it, just exploring the tiny nares, her nostrils, small on her button nose.

When I brushed her lips with my fingertips she kissed and when I explored deeper, tracing the line of teeth and gums and the inside of her cheeks, she sucked gently.

I traced the auricle, the shell of her ear with my fingertip, and then probed the auditory canal with my fingertip, making her giggle again.

I finished with her face by lightly tickling her second and that incipient third chin, watching as she bent her head back, exposing her throat to me. I couldn't resist pinching lightly between my thumb and forefinger and then kissing the soft skin that bulged.

"You like my fat?" she asked in a low voice, not opening her eyes.

"Carla," I said, my lips brushing against her ear, "I like ALL of you."

She moved to embrace me but I caught her wrists.

"No," I said, "let me explore you."

She relaxed, not pushing anymore, and said, "well, plenty to explore."

I nipped at her earlobe, drawing a yelp.

"QUIT," I said, trying to make my voice a little sharp, "putting yourself down."

"David," she started but I cut her off with a kiss.

"You are beautiful and I'm enjoying, very much, exploring you," I said, exaggerating a little but understanding, down at the level of DNA, that the compliment was needed.

She smiled and relaxed. "Okay, Indiana Jones, explore away," she said in that soft, husky voice.

I took her left hand in mine and traced each nail, lightly touching the cuticle line, and then each finger, lightly brushing each one, matching fingerprint to fingerprint, before taking each in turn into my mouth and sucking gently while caressing it with my tongue.

"Are you sure I'm your first?" she asked again.

I didn't answer. I just kissed her palms and the backs of her hands, her wrists, and worked my way down. At the inside of the joint of her elbow, I kissed and sucked gently, making her giggle again. Farther up the inside of her upper arm, the skin very pink and very soft and warm, I kissed and tickled and enjoyed watching goosebumps rise where my fingertip tickled.

"That's nice," she said, almost inaudible her voice so soft.

At her armpit I was fascinated by the stubble I found there. The hair was very black, and very coarse. When I brushed my cheek against it it was almost scratchy. I liked it and I liked the salt taste and very faint scent of failed deodorant.

"I think," I said, licking that little patch of stubble again, "that I'll throw away your razor."

She giggled at that.

"What do they call it?" she asked in that same soft sleepy voice, "natural?"

"I don't know," I said, nuzzling where her breast hung over the side of her body.

"Gonna make me a fat, natural girl then?" she asked and I nipped at the base of her boob hard enough to make her yelp.

"QUIT," I said, and nipped again, "putting," NIP, "yourself down."

"Owwwwwwww," she said, and then she did use that leverage she understood so well and I found myself under her, pinned by her weight, her legs straddling me, her fingers entwined with mine, as she leaned forward and nipped, no, BIT, my ear making me yell and try to get away.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, SHIT Carla," I said, in my turn.

She was grinning down at me now.

"David," she said, "I like you. Hell, I like you a LOT. But don't get the idea that I'm some sort of little subbie girl just because I'm fat."

"Carla," I started but she bent, amazingly quick for all of her size, and kissed me. When I kissed back she bit my lower lip hard enough that I thought she might have drawn blood, making me yell into her mouth, into the kiss.

And I was hard.

She reached down and did that lifting thing, moving the soft hemisphere of her mons enough to accept me into her body, and then leaned back until she was sitting up straight in what I have come to understand is the classic cowgirl position.

I watched, the first time I had seen her in full light, as her hips rocked, her back arched, and she moved with that incredible boneless sexgrace only fat girls seem to be able to achieve. When her hips rocked back she would arch her back and her belly, not the full belly apron of my first wife, but the round softness of my first love, and the tuft of coarse black hair at the front of her vaginal slit would peek out. When her hips rocked forward her back arched the other way and she would hide that little black tuft.

It was her face, though, that I enjoyed most. She was smiling, a happy smile, and when her lips parted slightly little threads of saliva connected them.

She closed her eyes and I felt the sudden rush of her release. This wasn't exactly an orgasm as she had before. It was gentle, the only hint of her ecstasy the sudden intake of breath and the warm, sticky flow of her pleasure.

God, she looked good, and when I said, "you are beautiful," I added, "Carla, that's not flattery, it's simply an observation" before she could get into one of her self-put-down moods.

She surprised me, completely, when she started crying.

"Thank you, David," she said, bending over and giving me a wet kiss, "right now I can believe you."

I reached up and lifted her breasts, hefting them in my hands, enjoying their weight and the way they overflowed my hands.

"Squeeze them," she breathed.

I squeezed, watching as soft tissue bulged between my fingers.

"They're tits, sweet cheeks," she said, giggling softly as she continued riding me, taking what she wanted, "not fine China."

I squeezed hard, drawing a soft groan from her.

"That's better," she said.

I reached up and laid my palms flat on her chest, my thumbs touching under her left breast. I brought my hand around until the fingertips touched and then started squeezing. I slowly forced her breast, the mammary gland a separate thing about the size of a cantaloupe, forward. I kept increasing the pressure until the areola was stretched and distorted and the nipple a hard pink button.

"Yesssssssss," she hissed as I increased the pressure, "I like that, baby."

I increased the pressure until she groaned and then, suddenly, threw her head back and came powerfully, I felt the sudden wetness on my balls making me wonder for an instant if she had lost bladder control.

She was almost whistling, sort of an "eeeeEEEEEEEEiiiiiii" sound.

I squeezed harder, putting about as much pressure as I could on that big tit, wondering if I was leaving a bruise, kind of hoping I was.

"Oh shit," she breathed, her voice so breathy it had almost no volume.

"Oh shit," she said, a little more volume this time, when I squeezed harder, digging my fingertips in now.

She was sweating again, hips thrusting, head thrown back, her back arched dramatically, putting that round soft belly on display.

"OH SHIT," she said a third time, this time more of a cry than simply "saying," and she came, hard and liquid.

"Come on, honey," I said, releasing her boob and reaching for her, "relax, let me have your weight."

"Now I KNOW you're crazy," she said, and leaned forward. Her belly first, then her boobs, covering me, almost engulfing me in that big soft body.

I was still hard as she settled onto me.

"Relax," I said, "let me have your weight."

She sighed then and I felt her relaxing.

"Let's stay like this," I said, "it sounds like a good way to spend the day."

She giggled, her breath tickling my neck.

"All day?" she asked.

"We can try," I said.

"Crazy," she said, a very soft voice now.

"About you," I said.

I felt her relax, more and more, and loved the way her body pressed me into the mattress, how she enfolded me in her warmth and softness.

"I love you," I said, but I don't think she heard me. Her body had the complete relaxation of sleep then.