The Fat Lady Fucks

This story contains interracial oral and anal sex.It also bisexual and gay sex. If any of this offends you STOP RIGHT HERE!

All characters ar at least 18 years old

I was enjoying a shot and a beer at my favorite watering hole by the highway when I overheard a couple arguing drunkenly. The guy was a roly-poly type with a beer gut and a comb-over. His wife had a cute face but was grossly overweight.

The jist of their conversation was that the guy had trouble sexually satisfying the lady. She wanted more sex, and he complained that she was too demanding. Their repartee seemed practiced, as though they had this conversation many times before.

She was at least forty years old. Her morbid obesity shaped her appearance, with a rounded face, a prominent double chin, and enormous breasts. Two distinct rolls of fat adorned her stomach, a testament to the challenges she faced due to her weight.

This pulchritude was crammed into a one-piece black knit dress, which over-emphasized every curve.

"Pull your hem down, Ann! Nobody wants to see your legs! Lord knows I don't."

"Well, if you find them disgusting, and nobody wants to see them, what's the problem," She retorted.

Her tone said she was ready for a fight. The guy huffed and went silent, unwilling to engage.

The woman got up and walked by me on her way to the lady's room.

As she passed by, I couldn't help but notice the impressive proportions of her ass. It swayed and jiggled with a rhythm reminiscent of Jello on springs. The softness of her curves extended beyond her buttocks, with fat hanging from her arms and her breasts swaying from side to side.

My name is Carlos. I own a small ranch out in the Valley. I'm biracial, Hispanic and black and pushing the hell out of fifty years old. The hard work of running a ranch keeps me in reasonable shape. I'm 6''1", 210 pounds.

I'm between girlfriends. The last one didn't like the isolation of living 30 miles from the nearest town. I'm bisexual, which gives me a second option. I'm a Top for several guys in the area who are in the closet; they come out occasionally and spend the night with me.

Some guys, especially the ones in a heterosexual relationship, visit me more than others. They need what we do but deny their basic essence. They're ashamed that they liked to occasionally suck a cock or feel one in their ass.

Isolation also loosens the morals of married women in and around the Valley. They become frustrated with the inattention of their husbands or stupefied by the isolation and seek someone's shoulder to cry on...and a cock to suck and fuck.

Between frustrated married women and closeted men, I fuck regularly

While the fat woman was gone, several regulars came in together and sat down at the bar near the couple and me. They were ranch hands, already drunk and in great form.

Ed, the group leader, is an occasional visitor at my place. He slapped me on my back, displaying a false sense of bonhomie. Ed is a true Bottom.

Of all my male lovers, he is my most frequent visitor. He's at my place at least once a week. In any other world, he would come out of the closet and accept that he was, at a minimum, bisexual. However, his machismo won't let him admit that he loves a cock in his ass more than he likes his cock in a pussy.

To emphasize my dominance, I demanded that he wear lace panties, thigh-high nylons, and pumps when he came by. He's a burly guy, taller and broader than me, and enjoys parading around my place in drag.

He is shacked up with a Hispanic woman whom I occasionally fuck. Neither of them knew I was fucking the other. It probably wouldn't matter if they did.

When the fat lady came back, all eyes turned to her. It was not that she was runway model material; quite the contrary. The county's population was under 2000, with approximately 40% female. She was fresh meat! Given the opportunity, every man in the bar would fuck her.

The guys stared at her huge breasts, swaying from side to side. With jugs that a big., most of the guys didn't notice the bellies and ass that come with them.

"Here comes the entertainment," one guy said, and his buddies applauded.

He was a local rancher also. But as the locals will tell you, he was all hat and no cattle. He talked a good game. However, he knew as much about ranching as I knew about nuclear fission!

"Hi, guys," she laughed good-naturedly.

She slipped back on her barstool, facing me with the regulars on either side of us.

The guys ogled her while laughing amongst themselves. They were lying about what he would do if she allowed them to get in her panties.

"Are you sure you're not a stripper? We need one to liven this place up," another one said, grinning broadly.

"I'm definitely not stripper material," she chuckled, "I don't want this old body to scare you guys."

As the quasi-sexual banter continued, fueled by the regulars' recent paychecks and rounds of drinks, they shamelessly flirted with her. I found myself immersed in the conversation, confidently drinking with the boys.

"Come on, how about a sexy lap dance, at least," one guy asked.

"Hey! You guys don't bother my customers," Carl, the bartender, chimed in.

Carl was married with a passel of kids. He and I hook up occasionally after closing, nothing serious, just getting each other off. We 69ed on the pool table a couple of times a month. I'm not horse-hung, but he's one of the few guys who can take me down their throat.

The fat lady giggled and squirmed but didn't say no. I could tell she was into it but didn't want to seem too eager.

Her husband looked pissed. However, he accepted the free drinks and tried to ignore the fact that with the drinks came the guys flirting with his wife. Finally, he accepted that she might as well dance as long as the cowboys were buying the drinks.

"My husband says it's OK. I'll dance, but no touching," she said.

She stood up and bowed at the waist to drunken applause. Her humongous jugs hug from her chest like udders on a cow.

"If you're going to do it, Ann, hurry the fuck up! We have to be on the road early tomorrow morning. We need to be getting some sleep."

Her husband was intimidated by the guys paying attention to his wife. It was a take on the old story about sour grapes; he said she was too fat, and he didn't want her but was jealous of the attention she was getting.

The bar was part of a rest area just off the Interstate. The rest area consisted of the bar with an attached restaurant and a motel. It sat on the edge of town.

The man who had requested a lap dance found a seat at the end of the bar. She positioned herself in front of him, her back facing his direction, as she began to sway her hips with a captivating fluidity, perfectly synchronized with the pulsating music. With a deliberate and enticing motion, she turned around, gracefully bending forward while maintaining the rhythm, causing her dress to ride up slightly at the back. Her ample bosom leaned forward in this seductive pose, nearly grazing the man's face, leaving him captivated by her sheer presence.

She was a pretty good dancer and carried on, reveling in the locals' lewd comments. Despite her size, there was a feline grace about her that suggested hidden depths. She turned around and bent forward, pushing her ass in the guy's face.

Her knit dress rode up her thighs, exposing her huge white ass. Her ass and thighs were so dimpled with cellulite that they looked like pink golf balls. She wore a black g-string that disappeared in her ass cheeks, so it appeared as if she was naked. Despite her obesity, it was sexy.

She was the kind of woman the average guy wouldn't date but would definitely fuck if his buddies didn't find out.

She turned to face the guys just as the song ended. The regulars loved it, and the guy who got the lap dance loved it the most. He pulled her back onto his lap before she could pull her dress down. He positioned his hand on his lap just before he pulled her down, so his hand was now on her bare ass. I'd find out later that his finger was in her pussy.

She laughed and kicked her legs in the air, wriggling her ass on his hand as he held her there with his free hand. Her husband seemed upset but did nothing to stop his wife.

The guy wiggled his hand and arm, copping a good feel while finger fucking her. She was still giggling, though her gyrations slowed. She was drunk, getting more attention from the bar patrons than she ever got from her hubby, and the finger in her pussy felt good!

Finally, her husband grabbed her and pulled her off the guy's lap. Her dress was around her waist, and her ass was displayed again. She plopped down on the barstool beside her husband as though nothing had happened.

The bar patrons laughed, applauded, and started talking, planning the remainder of their night. There were few options other than this bar and one about 10 miles away in the next town. They decided and were off, thanking the lady.

That left the three of us. We were drunk from the drinks the guys bought. I tried to strike up a conversation, but her husband was fuming.

"Just because they liked me, Harold doesn't mean you should get upset," she spat at him.

"They were laughing at you! Nobody likes a fat old woman!"

"I hate it when you talk to me like that," she said, her voice cracking.

"Hey folks," I said, trying to calm the troubled waters, "it was all good fun, and no one got hurt."

Her husband glowered at me but kept his seat. It was a wise move. We weighed about the same, but I was taller by roughly two inches and in reasonable shape. He looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

"The one whose lap I sat in wasn't calling me fat! He fingered my pussy while I was sitting on his lap," she snapped at him.

Harold looked shocked. His face turned red, and the muscles in his neck corded.

"You slut," he growled.

"You watched the whole thing; you saw where his hand was," she said, looking at me.

I nodded yes.

"Was he complaining about me being fat," she asked.

I shook my head, no, and she grinned at me.

"Ann, those guys would have run away in disgust if they had to sleep with you every night like I do," he spat out.

She gave him a long hard look. Then she got up, walked, and stood before me.

"Would you run away in disgust if I sat on your lap," she asked with a wicked grin?

"Leave the poor guy alone. If he let you sit in his lap, it would only be out of pity!"

Harold was pissing me off. I didn't care for the way he was talking to his wife. I was pretty drunk after drinking with the regulars and what I had already.

"You can sit that lovely ass down whenever you want," I told her.

He turned and glared at me but wisely kept his seat.

Ann smiled, faced her husband, leaned forward a little, and lowered her fleshy ass onto my lap. Emulating the guy who got the lap dance, I put my open hand on my lap. Just as she was about to sit on my open hand, she tugged her dress up over her flabby ass checks and sat her warm fleshy ass on my right hand.

My index finger sank to the second knuckle as she writhed on my lap. I added a second finger while keeping an eye on her husband. He couldn't see I was fingering his wife; her ass hid the action. However, her harsh breathing and wanton wiggling said she was getting more than a lap dance.

She wriggled around until my thumb was on her ass crack. Then she started sliding forward and back. She wore a g-string; I bent my thumb and pushed past it into her anus. To paraphrase an old sci-fi show, there was no resistance; this wasn't her first rodeo!

"Oh fuck," she exclaimed.

I rocked my hand back and forth, simultaneously finger fucking her ass and pussy. I kept an eye on her husband as I wrapped my arm around her and cupped her big jugs. Her gyrations became more intense when I pinched a nipple.

She gyrated for several moments, lost in the sensations of my fingers in her ass and pussy. Her head dropped between her shoulders, and she groaned loudly as she orgasmed.

"Ann! Are you okay?"

Her husband was a wuss. He suspected what was happening but was intimidated by being an outsider and my size.

She stopped gyrating, stood up, and wagged her finger in my face.

"Naughty, naughty," she said. "Looks like you hated my lap dance," she cracked, smiling and looking at the bulge in my jeans.

I pulled out my wallet, got a couple of singles, and stuffed them down her cleavage.

"I've got some more singles if you want to repeat that dance in your underwear."

Before she could respond, her husband told her to sit down. She sat down opposite me with her legs spread. She was too fat for me to see anything except her stocking tops and the flabby white flesh above, but I understood the signal. She wanted more!

We openly flirted while she sat between me and her husband with her legs spread. I took the opportunity to run my hand under her dress and cupped her pussy. Her husband must have known what we were doing but he kept drinking, seemingly ignoring me, feeling up his wife.

She and I flirted, exchanged drinks and chatted until closing time. On the last call, We were plastered and left the bar together. As married couples will do, they seemed to be getting along again as he had his arm partly around her waist.

"You guys need a lift," I asked.

"No, we're just passing through and are staying at the motel across the street," He said, pointing at the No Tell Motel.

I sensed an opening. Ann, the wife, had let me feel her up all night. She let her dress ride high enough while we drank that I could see where the g-string disappeared between her dimpled thighs. Several times, she grabbed my cock and squeezed as we talked. I suspected she had a fantasy about BBC.

"Look, I got a THC vaporizer if you want to indulge."

"We ain't smoking yet," his wife slurred.

I went to my truck to get the vape. When I got back, I didn't see them. Initially, I thought they had decided to go to their motel.

However, I heard slurping sounds from behind a car, walked over, and saw the woman blowing her husband. She squatted with her legs spread and her dress bunched around her waist. The guy was semi-hard, and her cheeks were concave from trying to get him hard enough to cum.

I couldn't see much in the poorly lit parking lot, but I saw her take his cock from her mouth and vigorously stroke it.

"What's the matter now?" she asked?

"I guess you're just not sexy enough," he said.

What an asshole, I thought

She stayed where she was, and he spied me. His cock was not only soft but small.

"Do you want some of this," I said, unzipping my jeans.

I walked over to them with my cock hanging out. My cock is a good 8 inches when interested, and it is very interested right now.

"Oh, my lord," she said, licking her lips.

"Try sucking this," I said, "it's the least you can do after getting me hard with that lap dance."

She looked up at her husband, who shrugged. She wrapped her chubby hand around my cock.

"Christ, it's so big," she gasped, slowly stroking my tool. "I didn't think it was that big when I gave you the lap dance," she continued.

"Suck my cock, bitch" I ordered,

I assumed the dominant role. Sometimes, it works; sometimes, it doesn't.

It worked with the bartender, who was one of my submissives. I sometimes had him wear panties under his jeans while he worked. When he came out to my ranch, I fuck him while he wore a French maid outfit. He loved it!

She nodded and opened her mouth, and swallowed my shaft.

"Ann! What the fuck are you doing? You're sucking a stranger's cock in a bar parking lot."

She stopped and looked like she would get up, but still playing the dominant; I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back onto my cock.

"She is sucking my cock, dude, don't interrupt," I said as I fucked her mouth.

He was so drunk he leaned against the car to keep from falling while watching me skull fuck his wife. She was good, damn good!

"You can't do this. You just can't," he mumbled drunkenly.

"Your bitch is in heat, man. If you can't take care of her, I will," I said. "You can have her back when I finish with her."

I held her head in my hands as I fucked her mouth. She opened wide so I could get deeper and had saliva running down her cheeks.

She may have been obese but was an excellent cocksucker. She was sucking me while dragging her red lips up and down my shaft the way I liked it.

Her husband struggled to stand from leaning against the car. I eyed him warily, prepared to halt our little scenario if he wanted to fight. However, he just stood with his arms hanging limply at his side, watching and shaking his head in disapproval.

She was sucking harder now, making loud slurping sounds.

"You can't get it all in your mouth, but I bet your pussy could handle it," I said, panting.

With all of the alcohol I drank and the marijuana we smoked, there was little chance of my popping too soon.

"Take it from me. You don't want none of that fat pussy," her husband said, weaving and laughing. "You could park your truck in there."

"Only one way to find out," she said

I pulled her to her feet. She stared at her husband while I pulled her over to my truck.

"Harold, are you sure about this," Ann asked. She was high but having second thoughts.

"I don't give a fuck," he said, backhandedly giving his wife permission to fuck me.

I leaned her against the hood of the car, and I placed my hand on her back. I pulled her dress over her ample backside, revealing its curves. She reached back and firmly grabbed her G-string, yanking it to one side.

"Come over here and stuff that big black cock in my pussy".

It was a scene out of a cut-rate porn movie. Like Klieg lights on a movie set, a mercury vapor light lit the parking lot. Anyone passing on the access road would see us.

I was going to fuck the wife of this guy I barely knew in a tavern parking lot at 2 am. She didn't have a porn star's body, no cantilevered tits or peach-shaped ass. As I said earlier, any guy would fuck her if his buddies didn't know; I didn't care if they knew; pussy is pussy!

I stumbled over and stood behind her with my cock in my hand, looking down at her huge ass. Without foreplay, I slammed my cock into her pussy. It was hot wet, and her husband was right; she had a big pussy. But I had a big cock also.

She had what one of the old blues songs called 'Come back pussy.' It didn't matter how she looked; her pussy was so good that I had to fight to keep from cumming. She could slide her ass up and down my shaft while flexing her Kegel muscles.

The way she could flex her pussy muscles reminded me of a local guy who could suck your dick while stroking your cock with a twisting action. With him I didn't hold back; he wanted my cum and I gave it to him.

My balls slapped her sweaty ass, and I started banging her pussy using short hard jabs.

"It fits just nice," she panted, pushing back at me,

"Ooh yeah, nice wet slut pussy. I love it, "I gasped.

She moaned out loud, and her pussy flooded. She groaned and pushed back harder onto me,

"Yeah, that's right! Fuck my married pussy. Harold, look at your wife fucking this stranger's cock."

Harold was still standing where he had been with his pants still open. I dug my fingers into her soft hips and yanked her back harder, really slamming into her hard. Her fat ass wobbled and shook with the force, and my truck swayed too.

"All those guys tonight, wanting me, made me soooo horny," she said.

"The parties in Ann's pussy, and everyone is invited," I said, laughing

"Ooh yes, I'd love that. The more, the merrier," she mumbled.

"You'd like all six cocks to fuck you and come inside you," I said, panting and pounding her pussy.

"Yes! In my pussy, my ass and in my mouth," she gasped.