The Temp

byJorisKHuysmans©

I first saw her walking toward the xerox machine. It was summertime and the only thing I saw was an ass two feet across, squirming inside sheer cotton pants, forming a different set of curves under the thin cloth with each step. Three feet above it, curly blond hair spilled out over her shoulders, half covering the tight bra squeezing across the pillows of flesh. She went around the corner and was gone. I couldn't follow and what would I have said, anyway?

An hour later I saw her face for the first time. A sweet, open face, half-hidden by those blond curls. She was working at the reception desk in my office. A temp. I didn't believe in screwing around in the office but a temp would be gone quickly, no one would know-- c'mon, don't be silly.

Just before lunch she came into my office with a FedEx package. My first chance to look her over from top to bottom-- a full pair of fat breasts, tall and not drooping; a belly that disappeared into the pants where her stout legs were. She couldn't have missed me checking her out like that-- or was it rare enough for her that she didn't recognize it the way a thinner woman instantly would?

"You're new here," I said after I signed for the package. Of course I knew she wasn't, as she explained about being a temp for just the five days of this week. "That's a very attractive outfit," I said. She looked pleasantly surprised. "That's nice of you," she said. "Most people wouldn't notice."

"Why, because you're big?" "Of course," she said. Well, here was the entry-- time to risk that harassment suit or forever hold my peace (or piece). "I think you carry it very well," I said. "In fact, I think you fill it out very well." I couldn't believe I'd gotten it out. What would she do? Blow me? Hit me?

"Have a nice day," she said, and left.

I felt crushed, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought that she had said the "Have a nice day" in a genuinely friendly way.

I found an excuse to walk by the front desk about every twenty minutes after that. Sometimes she was on the phone, sometimes she was helping someone making a delivery or meeting someone. If she was busy I walked slowly to check out the fat breasts piled on top of the rolls of her belly, the smooth double chin leading down to her smooth, peaches-and-cream neck. After a while her upper chest, a circle of it visible above her top, seemed a little redder.

The end of the day came. I put my fantasy away-- well, till I got home, anyway. As I walked out to the elevator I smiled to her vacantly.

"Good night," I said. "Good night," she said. The elevator door opened and I stepped in, and turned around. At that moment she leaned over to pick up a piece of paper from the floor, arranging herself so that as she did, her top fell forward and I saw her heavy, full breasts tumble forward into her bra. I saw down her full cleavage to the top of her stomach, and got a spectacular view of the quivering, basketball-sized breasts trapped inside the brassiere. As the doors closed she stood up, looking at me to make sure I'd seen it-- and that I liked what I saw.

* * *

Tuesday, I woke up with a persistent hardon. Jerking off once while thinking about burying myself in that fat jiggly flesh didn't get it down, so I had to do it again after I got dressed. I had to wash a little bit of cum out of the front of my trousers, dammit.

I arrived at the office and there she was, today dressed much more professionally than the day before. Shit. Dressed like she wanted to discourage someone from making any advances. Could she suspect that in my dreams I'd blasted my cum between her massive tits and rolled my face in the crack between those massive hams? Jesus, if I didn't stop thinking about it I was going to have a tentpole again.

About 10:30 there was a knock at my door. I looked up without even thinking who it might be, and there she was. A crisp blue suit hanging off her vast sloping breasts and hiding the shape of her huge hips. The only nice thing was that it gave me a glimpse of her round, firm calves and the feet squeezed into a pair of medium heels. She was delivering a package again.

"Hello," I said, nonchalantly, or as best I could manage.

"How are you today?" she asked.

Horny as a bull, I wanted to answer. "Fine," I said. I took the package from her as she stood at the edge of my desk. I looked up at her. She looked at me. I kept looking, thinking of the show she'd given me yesterday of her massive tits trying to break free. There weren't going anywhere today, not in that suit.

"How do you think I carry today's outfit?" she asked.

"Oh, very nice," I said. "Though not as friendly as yesterdays."

"You mean, it doesn't show as much."

"Well, that has something to do with it," I said. She didn't say anything-- she was waiting for something from me. But I wasn't going to grab until I knew for sure that was what she wanted. "It certainly doesn't show as much as you showed me yesterday."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said, smiling to make sure I knew she knew what I meant.

"Well, in any case, I don't imagine I'll be seeing as much in this formal getup," I said. "Unless someone were to arrange a private showing." I couldn't believe I got that part out, but I did.

"Maybe I decided you were seeing too much too soon," she said. "If you want to see it all, maybe you'll have to prove you're worthy of it."

"What does that mean?"

She turned around, closed the door, and returned to the same spot. "I'll show you something, and if you show it proper devotion, maybe you'll get to see something else.

Oh God, make it a tit, I've been dying for a sight of those huge melons, I thought. Instead, she sat up on my desk. It groaned, but it held her. She folded her legs up in a pinup pose, giving me a view most of the way up her broad, smooth pink thighs which nevertheless disappeared into shadow at the top. Then she kicked one shoe off, exposing a puffy foot and the tiny toes at the end of it, which she pushed against my chest and then wiggled slowly up to my chin. I could smell the mix of foot odor and leather that has always been a turn-on. I looked up at her round face, framed by the forest of blonde curls. "Show me how you'd make love to my foot," she said, "and there may be more for you later in the week."

I opened my mouth and swallowed her largest toe, licking between it and the next toe with the tip of my tongue. I ran it along the ridge under her toes, and felt the fleshy ball of her foot fill my mouth. She squirmed, her thighs rubbing together. My tongue moved harder and faster between her toes, as if I could bring her to orgasm that way. Her thighs rubbed together and her eyes got narrow. I lifted my hand and pushed it between her legs-- and suddenly she jerked her toes from my mouth and kicked me away with her foot square in my chest.

She stood up and put the shoe on. "Do what I tell you, and you'll see more," she said. "Try to get ahead of yourself, and none of this will be yours." As she said that her hand went to her tit, and she rubbed it beneath her formal business clothing. Then she straightened it, turned around and went away.

* * *

I wasn't going to think about her that day. Fat chance, no pun intended. Those thighs as big around as my chest, the breasts the size of hams juggling within her outfit... pardon me while I get rid of another hardon at the very thought of her.

Ah, that's better. I got off the elevator the third day and she, no let me say She, wasn't at the front desk. It was some older woman, skinny as a sparrow and about as attractive, especially as she coughed up a nicotine furball from the furthest caverns of her chest. So the temp was permanently gone.

An uneventful morning of work ensued. About 10:40 there was a knock at my door and I wasn't even thinking of the possibility when I saw it was her. I went to half-mast immediately. There was nothing I could say at the sight of her-- unlike her oh-so-proper outfit of the previous day she was squeezed into a flower-print mini-dress, her tits squeezed up high and exposing cleavage deep enough to lose a set of encyclopedias in, every roll of her fat stomach outlined by the stretched fabric, the beginning of her thighs barely hidden under a skirt that stopped just below the place I'd dreamed of so many times already. Would today at last be the day that I would be able to bury myself between those massive thighs and drink up her sweet sticky nectar-- to smother myself between the huge pillows of her breasts?

She closed the door behind herself and stood a foot from me. "Are you willing to behave yourself today?"

"I hope not," I said.

"I mean, are you willing to obey me, today?"

"Anything you say," I said, and I meant it!

She knelt down in front of me and pushed my legs apart, then unzipped my pants. She reached in and pulled my cock out of my underwear, but left it inside the pants. The jagged edge of the zipper scraped against it slightly. What did she have in mind?

She then unbuttoned the top two buttons on her dress and reached in to pull out her left tit. At last I had a sight of one of those massive marvels, with its aureole the size of a slice of bologna and the thumb-sized nipple. Then just as quickly she dropped her breast inside my fly, and my cock sprang against it. I could feel the nipple rub against the head, and I leaned back and let out a moan. She continued rubbing it around in there, and I knew it would take me only a moment before I would come. I wanted to reach out and take the tit, take both of them in my hands, and drive my tongue against the giant nipple, but I knew I didn't dare. I couldn't bear the thought of her stopping as she had the day before as I performed footilingus.

I was close to coming. She suddnly said, "You will obey me exactly?" I grunted my unconditional agreement as I felt her huge tit roll my cock underneath it. At last I could take no more and a powerful orgasm swept over me. I shouldn't have had any come in me after the number of times I'd pumped it myself, but I felt a hot spurt squish against her, and then two more. She sat up, that lone beautiful huge tit flopped out and dripping with my juice.

"Milk me," she said.

"Huh?"

"I have milk on me. Lick it up." With that she thrust the tit in my face. The idea wasn't terribly appealing at that precise instant but, I couldn't argue. I licked up a thick rope of my juice and swallowed it, quickly, and then another, polishing her tit with my tongue, tasting that fat nipple and her sweet breast, perfumed with the sweet scent of her sweat, that unique sweet scent that only big women have. I had licked up all the come but was just making sure I had every last square inch covered when she stood up, popped it back inside the dress, buttoned it and said, "Keep that tongue in good shape. You're going to need it."

* * *

I refused to touch myself. She had made me come, with her tit inside my pants, and who knew what she might dream up for me the next time. So I left it alone... even as I dreamed of that huge tit flopping about in my lap, smothering my cock with its massive weight, the fat pink nipple rubbing against my swollen head until finally I erupted all over it-- no! I mustn't.

By now I was ready for her visits, around eleven every morning, and by 10:15 I was about to squirm out of my trousers. Eleven rolled around... and she didn't. Could she have decided better of our little meetings, and was I only to dream of the pleasures I would find buried between her massive thighs? I had touched and licked that mammoth tit, and I had a pretty good suspicion there was another like it, not to mention all the other joys I might find in the vicinity.

I waited in my office until ten after twelve, and then I was about to leave for lunch when she appeared. "I'm on another floor today," she said, closing the door behind her.

Today she wore a blue oxford shirt and a capacious pleated jean skirt. That fat fleshy foot which I had licked as if it were her honeyspot was plainly visible in her moccasins. "Just tell me and I am yours," I said.

"I know that," she said, pushing herself up onto my desk. The jean skirt spread across most of the desk like a tablecloth. She grabbed one part of pulled it up slowly to reveal a round calf and a soft, spongy knee. "What? What am I to do today?"

"Make me come like a Christmas tree," she said. "On your knees."

I dropped to my feet in front of her and she slowly pulled the skirt up. With each inch those huge thighs grew wider and wider. I rested a hand on each of them and as light hit the area between them I could see that she had no panties on and was already wet and inflamed. A wave of her musk hit me and I inched forward, my tongue out. I felt her fur tickle me and smelled her sweaty skin, and I was preparing to make contact when suddenly her thighs closed around me like a vise. My head was trapped.

I stuck my tongue out as far as it could go. It just brushed the very top of her swollen clit. She eased up slightly and I inched forward, only to feel those huge thighs close around me, rippling as they did. My tongue began to move up and down and her clit moved under my ministrations, and at last she opened up, pushing my head full into her mound, my nose burying itself in her sparse pussy hairs, my tongue diving deep into her hot, oozing canal.

I sucked and probed, and she leaned back in ecstasy. I could just see one of her hands mauling one of those huge pillow-like tits above my head. The thighs squeezed open and shut, bouncing off of me like some kind of wrestlers' hold. At last she arched back and the thighs closed around my head, forcing my face deep into her pussy. I couldn't breathe, but apart from the embarassment of my corpse being found that way, I didn't entirely mind.

She opened her thighs and I fell back, breathing heavily. "Like a Christmas tree?" I said, pretty pleased with the workout I'd given her.

"You'll be strung up like a Thanksgiving turkey if you get too pleased with yourself," she said. "You've got more work to do."

She hopped off the desk and turned around, then pulled the skirt up to reveal her ass. Two pillows as wide as an overstuffed chair, and criss-crossed with red marks from the desk. A combination of my saliva and her cunt juices ran well up the crack.

"All right, you see that wetness back there?"

"Yeah, I think I had something to do with it," I said. "Smartass," she said. "That's yours to play in. You may have to get it a little more wet. But if I so much as feel your cock thinking about going in my bunghole or my pussy, I'll Bobbitize you."

I knelt in front of that massive smooth ass and licked the crack. She clamped it tight to keep me from getting a taste of anything deeper. It didn't really need the lubing but I figured what the hell. Rubbing my hot cheeks against the hot cheeks of her red ass was another small step for her and giant leap for me. I stood up and pulled out my cock, and then slid it into the wetness, rubbing up and down. It didn't take long feeling my cock slide between the slimy globes of her ass for an orgasm to build. I put my hands on her shoulders-- I didn't dare touch those tits-- and as my cock slipped and slided it erupted against her cheeks, firing spurt after spurt up the crack and onto her back. I lay there for a minute, savoring the feeling of the wetness running down her and onto me.

"Well?" she said.

"Well what?" I said.

"Clean it up."

* * *

Look for more BBW stories by Joris K. Huysmans on my profile (linked above and below the story).

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