The Big Tits Club Ch. 27-28

"No lube or anything?"

"Nuh-uh. Just boom, pop, ungh, and the next thing I knew he'd collapsed on top of me and he was balls deep up my butt!" Mari was crying she was laughing so hard.

"Good lord, girlfriend. First the deep-throating, and now this? You've got a body built for sex."

Belle jerked her head around and looked at me. I was staring straight at Belle, too, but only for a second before both of our attentions returned to Mari, who had immediately stopped laughing.

But only for a moment. She grinned, thrust her chin out, and said proudly, "Apparently I do. Matty said the same thing. I take it as quite the compliment."

"It is," Sam enthused with a smile, but it was a weak smile, and even from across the kitchen I could see the pained look on her face. "I used to think I was this sex goddess, but over the last couple of months you've put me to shame."

Mari suddenly looked very maternal, and she reached out to put her hand on top of Sam's forearm. "Hey, don't be like that. You ARE a sex goddess. You're my idol when it comes to this stuff, don't you know that?"

Sam frowned. "What? Your idol?"

"You've always been so confident, so poised, so in charge and in command. You have no idea how many times I've wished I could be more like you," Mari stated seriously before taking a long, deep breath. "You ARE a sex goddess, and I'm sorry if I upset you in any way just now. I know you're competitive, but I never meant to make you feel bad."

"No, it's not you. I really am happy for you. My mood right now has nothing to do with you or Belle or anything. I'm fine."

"Samantha..." Mother said gently, her tone and expression telling me she knew a lot more about what was going on than anyone else in the room.

"It's fine. Really. I'm fine," Sam waved dismissively before turning around in her seat. "Hey, Matty, ready to go?"

I blinked. "Where are we going?"

"To get you some cardio."

Belle snorted. "Matty gets plenty of cardio."

"Different kind of cardio." Sam smirked. "But hopefully your recent spike in training has helped your endurance. You're already dressed fine. Just grab your running shoes and let's go."

I blinked. "Wait, we're seriously going running? Each of you girls gets one-on-one time with me this weekend and your choice is to go running?"

"What? I always go running on Sunday mornings. Worried you can't keep up?" Her expression was smug and there was a challenge in her voice.

"Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I'll crush it."

Sam grinned. "We'll see about that."

****

Our suburban neighborhood had put an emphasis on green space during development which resulted in some pretty good trails - both dirt for running and asphalt for biking - that wound around parks, alongside creeks, and between different housing tracts. Sam got me to chug a glass of water before we got going while I complained, "Aren't people supposed to wait an hour after eating before exercise?"

"You'll be fine. Stop whining," she scolded like a parent.

After pausing to give Belle and Mari quick pecks, I obediently followed Sam out the front door, and together we walked at a brisk pace over to the nearest trail we could access two short blocks away. I knew from past experience that it ran for half a mile between our housing tract and the neighboring one, and then connected to an asphalt trail that followed the creek before hitting a big city park with a lake in the middle. If we made it all the way to the lake, went around the lake, and came back, it would be about five miles, most of that on dirt trail.

Sam was silent, wearing her "game face". Like I said, she was a driven young woman, and when she set her mind to something, nothing would get in her way. I didn't feel particularly competitive but understood that my role this morning was to keep up with her. And hey, maybe she was planning to find some quiet place behind some bushes and get my "outdoor" cherry or perhaps a blowjob just like in Tahoe (without me freezing my balls off). Although nervous at the idea of getting caught, I wasn't so nervous as to seriously consider turning her down.

So with that in mind, once Sam started up I simply followed her pace and ran alongside her.

Running between the two housing tracts, we had the place to ourselves and were able to run side-by-side. But once we hit the creek, there was significantly more two-way traffic from both bicyclists and other runners. I wound up tucking in right behind Sam, which turned out to be quite an improvement from my point of view.

People considered these trails to be fairly scenic. There was a lot of grass between the housing tracts, following the creek offered a glimpse of nature, and the park and its lake with ducks and geese were even more picturesque. But none of them could compare to the sight of Sam's ass squished into skintight spandex.

I found myself calling up memories of the good times I'd had with that "arse". I remembered fondling the globes while she sat in my lap, dry humping herself against my erection out on Matty's Chair. I remembered the sight of her wet body bent over in front of me beneath the spray the first time we had shower sex. I remembered the sight of her anus gaping wide open and not closing back up after I'd just finished slamming my dick through her backdoor over and over again.

It occurred to me that I hadn't sodomized that ass in a long time now, since the little orgy at the end of winter break. Not that I had much to complain about having violated Naimh's crinkled butthole nearly every chance we could get, and Mari's twice in the past few hours. But that just gave me incentive to keep up with Sam and fantasize about revisiting that beautiful bubble butt soon. Maybe even out here behind some bushes.

It turned out that I needed the incentive. Fucking as often as I did had certainly improved my cardiovascular health, but it didn't help quite so much with my leg muscle endurance. By the time we got to the lake my feet were starting to feel like lead weights, and even though we now had enough room for me to run alongside her, I found myself unable to actually keep up.

Sam would glance back at me every now and again, just to make sure I was still there. If I was dragging, she would slow her pace a bit so I could close the gap. The closer her ass, the harder I ran. But if she ever looked back and saw me immediately behind her, she picked up the pace again, and I seriously struggled to stay with her.

In all fairness, she had been consistently running five miles or more every weekend for who knows how long. This would be the first time I'd tried to run five miles since... Actually, I'm not sure I'd ever tried to run five miles before. I almost didn't make it home. By that point, I didn't even care that we'd never stopped to have outdoor sex. I was too worried about having a heart attack instead.

Mother opened the front door for Sam when she rang the bell. I was still staggering up the driveway, soaking wet and absolutely exhausted. Meanwhile, Sam stood on the front porch looking fresh as a daisy. Sure, she was sweaty and flushed and wearing a smile just as wide as if I'd given her an amazing orgasm, but she didn't even look winded.

"W... water... water..." I gasped as I stumbled through the front door right after her, still chasing that ass but finding it forever out of reach.

Mother clucked her tongue, flashed me a smirk, and headed into the kitchen. I waited right where I was, bent over at the waist with my hands on my knees gasping for oxygen.

Arms folded across her chest, Sam smiled at me and said sardonically, "Yeah, you totally crushed that."

"I... I shoulda worn a different shirt," I wheezed. There wasn't a dry spot anywhere on my t-shirt, which clung to me like a second skin.

"Yeah, uh-huh. Your shirt was the source of all your troubles," she remarked in the same tone.

"Gimme a break. I don't think I've ever run five miles before."

Sam smiled broadly. "Well if that's true, you actually didn't do that bad. Surprised you didn't crap out halfway."

I managed a winning smile as I looked up at her. "You're beautiful enough that I'd have chased you anywhere."

Sam looked surprised at the compliment, and her skin flushed more than that run had made her do. A second later she sniffed and turned away, taking two steps toward the hallway before spinning back. And in an obviously annoyed tone, she thrust out a hand palm-up at me and complained, "Now why did you have to go and say that?"

I frowned, confused. "Huh?"

She sighed and shook her head ruefully. "I was just starting to get into my head that you were just another pathetic little male who couldn't keep up with me anyway, which started to make me feel better about the power dynamic between us, and then you had to go and give me a compliment like THAT and now I'm..."

Her voice trailed off as she clenched her eyes shut, turned, and walked away.

"Sam?" I gasped, reaching toward her for just a second before having to put my hand back down on my knee.

Mother arrived just then, holding a sports bottle of water in her hands. She frowned at me and asked, "What did you just say to her?"

Still hunched over, I wheezed, "I dunno. I told her she was so beautiful it motivated me to keep running after her."

Mother furrowed her eyebrows and looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she handed me the water bottle and went after Sam.

I took a big swig of water and looked around. Belle and Mari had clearly left already, and with Mother going after Sam, I figured I might as well try to get cleaned up. I headed upstairs, stripped out of my sweaty clothes, and stumbled into the shower. It was only a little after 10am, and I wasn't due to head over to Zofi's until 1pm. As I braced my hands against the shower wall and let ice-cold water hit the top of my head, I tried to catch my breath and ponder my options.

Maybe I should've gone after Sam and coaxed her into the shower with me. Cleaning up together was always fun. Maybe she'd be waiting in my bed when I got out, and we could get filthy all over again. Whatever the case, I knew I'd have to call up my energy reserves for the challenge that still lay ahead. Sam was the kind of girl who demanded my very best, and even if my legs were shot, I would have to use my other skills to ensure I properly satisfied her.

It never occurred to me that Sam would leave while I was showering, and yet that's exactly what happened in the end. I emerged to find an empty bedroom, got dressed, and headed back downstairs.

Mother looked up from her spot in the living room when I arrived. She gave me an apologetic look and told me, "She'll see you tomorrow at school."

****

I was walking a little slowly as I trudged up the sidewalk to front door of my fourth and final "date" of the weekend. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself to be "in love" with Zofi before ringing the doorbell. But when the door opened, instead of staring at the exquisitely beautiful face of my girlfriend in front of me, I found myself staring at the equally exquisitely beautiful face of her mother.

"Uh, good afternoon, Missus Zee," I greeted reflexively, mentally castigating myself for leading with "uh" and then not saying her entire last name.

But despite my brief worry over not making a good enough first impression, Zofi's mom actually smiled at me and gestured for me to enter. "Hello, Matthew. Come on in. They're in front of the TV already," she stated in a thick accent.

I nodded and walked a little gingerly down the hallway, my legs already stiffening up from this morning's exertion. Zofi brightened as soon as she saw me, exclaiming gleefully, "Matty!" She ran up and gave me a fierce hug, followed by grabbing my head and adding a fierce kiss.

I held the kiss for just a few seconds before breaking it and looking rather bashfully at her dad, who sat on the couch wearing a Joe Montana #16 jersey.

He did not appear to be upset, but rather gestured at my jersey and said admiringly, "John Taylor! I am impressed."

I picked at my #82 jersey and smiled. "Everybody has Jerry Rice jerseys, no offense," I commented while gesturing to Zofi's #80 jersey beside me. "I tend to appreciate the teammates who otherwise get overlooked."

"A noble endeavor," he said appreciatively. "Come, sit! Game is about to start."

Zofi wrapped her arm around mine. "Sit with me." Her blue eyes sparkled.

I smiled and rubbed her arm. "Anytime."

****

The game itself was unimportant, as were the two teams playing. I mean yeah, they were playing to make it into the Super Bowl next Sunday, but I was far more interested in watching the interaction between Zofi and her dad.

It was clear he had taught her most everything he knew. Even now, when she was already a pretty knowledgeable fan, he would still automatically get into teaching mode pointing out how the offense would set up in a certain formation in order to make the defense adjust, or explain that the weakside linebacker was showing a blitz based on his alignment. I watched the way he beamed with pride when the offense ran a reverse three seconds AFTER Zofi had already predicted it.

In a way, their dynamic reminded me of the way Alice and I played video games or talked comic books together. That's not to say that Zofi couldn't have become a football fan on her own eventually, but it seemed to me that the core reason she did become a die-hard Niners fan was because it was the main way she could bond with her father. They'd built their relationship around a shared love of the sport, much in the way my relationship with Alice had become based on gaming.

Despite my supposed purpose of my presence being to help "prove" Zofi had a boyfriend, I was pretty much an afterthought. Zofi and her dad were quite seriously into the game, and I was sort of the bystander who occasionally made a comment or got asked a question every twenty minutes or so when Zofi realized she wasn't paying me much attention. I wasn't the only one who noticed, either.

It was late in the third quarter when I got up to get a refill of my Coke. Zofi's mom was in the kitchen and asked, "Can I get you something?"

I held up my empty glass as an answer, and she crossed to the refrigerator to retrieve the 2-liter bottle for me.

"Don't take it personally," she advised while head-nodding into the TV room.

"Take what personally?"

She smiled while handing me the refilled glass. "Zofia and her father. They have always been like this when the game is on. I am like sliced bread in this house."

"Oh, I don't take it personally at all. She looks so happy. And to think I didn't even know until recently she was such a football fan."

"You did not?" Mrs. Z looked surprised.

I shook my head. "I've known Zofi for years, but she had never talked about football before. It was only after we started, uh, dating that it ever came up." I certainly didn't want to admit that I'd been in her bedroom twice over winter break without her parents around.

"Zofi's father started teaching her when she was very small. She has grown up with the game. But it is not a surprise she did not discuss this at school. I do not think many of her friends think about football the way she does."

"They don't," I replied with a chuckle, thinking about how the rest of BTC couldn't care less about football. Even Alice didn't really give a crap, although she was at least into basketball and followed the Golden State Warriors. "But I'm very glad she has been able to bond with her father in this way. To be honest, I wish there had been something like that to help me build a relationship with my parents."

Zofi's mom frowned as she studied me for a moment. "When is the last time you saw your father?"

I popped my eyebrows and had to think about it. "Uh, two or three years? I'm not sure."

"If you are not sure, then it has been far too long."

I shrugged. "He stopped being a part of my life long before that. I got used to it."

"Are you close with your mother?"

I chuckled and shook my head. "She works all the time and doesn't usually come home until late in the evening. I know she has a boyfriend, but I've never met the guy. I guess you could say I'm pretty independent at this stage of my life. But in all fairness, I've been seeing a lot more of her lately, and I think our relationship has actually been improving."

"I am happy for you. It is important for young people to have a strong relationship with their parents."

I nodded. "I know that what making you and her dad proud of her is very important to Zofi. She values your opinion of her quite a lot."

The older woman's eyebrows went up. "Really? This is news to me. I feel like everything I say to that girl goes in one ear and out the other."

I chuckled. "Well, at least what she's told me about you suggests she very much wants your approval. Dance, for example, was your passion when you were younger, wasn't it? Don't get me wrong, she enjoys dancing on its own merits. But where having all of this football knowledge makes her dad proud of her, she also knows that excelling at dance gives her something to make you proud of her as well."

"I AM proud of her; she is an excellent dancer. We both know she will not ever make a career of it, as I did not." She smiled while gesturing up and down at her own figure, which like Zofi's, was rather too tall and too top-heavy to ever be a contemporary dancer. "But this does not diminish my pride in her accomplishments."

I tried (and failed) not to let my eyes linger on the older woman's curvaceous figure and proud breasts, but quickly schooled my face and brought my gaze back up to her bright blue eyes which seemed to twinkle as she caught me checking her out. Blushing slightly and looking back out to the TV room, I shrugged and said, "I've never really known what it feels like to have a parent be proud of you. I never cared much what my parents thought of me; that was just the nature of our relationship. Zofi, on the other hand," I led, thinking of my own presence here as a fake boyfriend, "I know she'll go to great lengths in her desire to make you happy... Or at the very least, make you 'not mad'."

Mrs. Z chuckled at that last part and stood up a little straighter, as if evaluating me in a new light. "Thank you for saying this. It makes me believe you are a good influence on my daughter."

I blushed and tried not to think of all the things I'd done 'to' her daughter that most parents would not approve of. "You are very kind."

She continued to stare at me in silence, just a little bit too intensely, but just when I started to feel a little unnerved by her gaze, Zofi called from the TV room. "Matty! They're in the red zone!"

With a smile, I saluted Mrs. Z with my glass of Coke and said, "Thank you."

"Enjoy the rest of the football," she replied with a warm smile, and I headed back to finish the game.

****

The game had been over for less than five minutes when Zofi closed the bedroom door behind her and started leading me over to her bed.

"Uh, are you allowed to shut the door like that?" I asked nervously as she sat me down on the side of the mattress and quickly straddled my lap. "Most parents would NOT be okay with their daughter being in a bedroom with a boy behind a closed door."

"MOST parents aren't worried their daughter is a closet lesbian or secretly hope she's finally lost her virginity," Zofi giggled while wrapping her arms around my head and giving me a sweet kiss. Ten seconds later, she pulled her lips off of mine and husked deeply from only an inch away, "I asked my mom to help me get a birth control prescription."

My eyes flew open WIDE. "You did what?"

Zofi giggled. "I'm telling you: she got excited."

I arched an eyebrow. "I thought you said your parents were conservative."

"Conservative in the sense that they're Catholic and believe homosexuality is a sin, they complain about illegal immigration, and are kinda racist if you ask me. But when it comes to premarital sex, mom said she lost her virginity... Well... I'm like... WAY behind."