First Flesh: The Nervous Thrill of Meeting Maryse
Heart slamming like a drum, I gripped the wheel. Mary’s voice still echoed from the phone—naked in her bathroom, water dripping off her curves, fingers tracing wet arabesques on her tits, belly, ass. She was stroking her pussy right then, imagining my hands. My cock throbbed in my pants at work, door unlocked, anyone could barge in. Fuck it. I blurted, ‘I’m coming over.’ She hesitated, then spilled her address, code, floor.
Half-hour drive blurred by. What if she’s not what I pictured? Me, shy old introvert, balding, no stud—full of complexes, shaved smooth for secret jerks. Her, obese, man-repeller despite her horny fire. Legs jelly, palms sweat-slick, I parked. Stairs up, hand shaking on buzzer. Praying she’s out. Click. Door cracks.
The Approach: Pulse-Racing Drive to Her Door
‘François?’
‘Yeah. Maryse?’
‘Yes. Get in quick!’
Dark entryway swallowed us. She was younger than I thought, pretty face, full lips—but massive. Robe loose, flowing. Way bigger than imagined. We kissed like old pals. Eyes adjusted. Scanned her. She scanned me.
‘Disappointed?’ she asked.
‘Surprised,’ I admitted. ‘You?’
‘Thought you’d be taller, buffer. You’re shaking bad. Regret coming?’
Frozen in the hall. Repulsion hit—couldn’t parade that body outside. But lust boiled deep, carnal hunger. ‘Glad I came. Want more.’ No turning back.
The Instant: Skin on Skin, Explosive Release
She led to sweltering living room. ‘Relax. Coffee?’
Jacket off. Watched her move—tits swaying heavy under robe, belly rolling, ass jiggling. Naked underneath? Bent for cups. I closed in. Eyes locked, hers gleaming. Boom—bodies mashed. Lips crashed. Long, wet kiss. Her gut crushed my belly, tits flattened on my chest. Cock stiffened hard. Don’t cum yet. Tongues tangled sloppy.
Hands roamed. Mine over robe, gripping vast flesh. Slid up loose sleeve—bare skin, silky. Back, down to ass cheeks. No panties. Hers yanked my shirt open, belt undone. Pants dropped. Shoes off, socks gone. Just tiny thong, bulge straining. Felt ridiculous, exposed—yet on fire for her mass.
Tried peeling robe. ‘Not yet,’ she whispered. Pulled me close. Kiss again. Hand in sleeve to tits—heavy, warm. Hers shoved thong down, grabbed my shaft. Lifted robe front, flashed thunder thighs. Foot up on couch, legs spread under fabric. Rubbed my cockhead on her slick lips. Her fingers worked clit. Mine joined, guiding. Hips arched awkward to reach. She quivered, came hard—moans guttural.
My turn. Yanked robe up, off. Naked glory: huge tits, deep folds hiding pussy. Foot still up, slit parted wet. Fingers plunged in, other hand in ass crack—thumb teasing rosebud. ‘Harder! Pinch tits! Fuck me with fingers!’ I mauled, twisted nipples, rammed deep. She bucked, screamed orgasm, leg buckling.
Panting, eyes teary-happy. We sipped cold coffee nude. Gazed at bodies. My smooth shave gleamed. Her folds mesmerized—pussy buried in fat. ‘Need to cum,’ I groaned, stroking cock. Balls ached.
Grabbed her under arms, tits smashing chest. Sat on couch edge, thighs wide. Forced her knees. Thighs clamped her torso. She got it—tits wrapped dick, mouth sucked tip. Spat slick between cleavage. Titfucked, sucked—bliss overload. Jets erupted: face, tits, my belly coated sticky.
She nursed soft cock clean. Rose, smeared cum on us both. Hugged tender on couch, bodies glued messy.
‘Come to bed,’ she said. ‘More to discover.’ Innocence gone—raw man now.
