Weesy wasn't the type of woman most guys would lust after. She didn't have a pretty
face, her eyes deep set and her lips very fleshy. Her dark hair was long and thick
but naturally crimped. Her eyebrows were too full and she didn't bother to pluck
them. There was a slight sheen to her forehead and cheeks because of excess oil
from her skin. So why was Kelton attracted to her? The obvious reason was her
overweight body, with many of the excess pounds settled in her bust, hips, buttocks
and thighs. He lusted after those curves. Also, her lack of attractiveness made
him think that he could succeed with her. After all, a short, slender guy like him,
with little dating experience, couldn't be choosy. And it didn't help him that he
had a laughably small penis. So all of those factors came together to make him
haltingly ask her out one day, while they were in the lunchroom of the large office
where she worked as a secretary and he struggled as a junior account manager. She
sat there, her massive bottom bulging over the sides of the hard-seated plastic
chair, a messy cheeseburger in one hand and a couple french fries in the other.
There was grease at the corners of her wide mouth and on those blubbery lips. She
looked up at him while he stood there, stuffed fries into mouth on top of a
partially chewed bite of burger, and said through all that food, "Yeah, I guess.
Whatever. You can take me out to dinner tonight after work. Right after work."

He thanked her and said in a voice that sounded apologetic, "I'll meet you at the
elevators. We can go wherever you like." She nodded and took a drink of her sugary
soda. No diet drinks for Weesy. Kelton stole another glance at those big tits of
hers and how they almost laid on the table when she bent far forward to let some
juice drip from her sandwich onto the plate. He shuddered inside. She had on a
stretchy top that molded itself to her contours, as well as snug slacks. In some
strange way her acceptance of his invitation had affected him deeply and his
u*********s mind decided that he would do whatever was necessary, would do ANYTHING,
to prevent losing her. So off they went to their dinner date. She picked a nearby
pizza place and ordered a whole pie topped with anchovies, pepperoni, and mushrooms.
Kelton didn't enjoy any of those extras but said nothing. He f***ed down two
slices but didn't have to eat any more because she gobbled down the rest of it.
Weesy also got a large soda, while he limited himself to a small. She noticed how
he let her make the decisions and followed her lead when she talked about whatever
popped into her mind, mostly reality TV shows and guys she had dated. The latter
subject upset him. She went on and on about dates who wanted sex right away and how
she didn't mind giving it to them, but then she would never see them again. Kelton
blurted out that if it were him, he would stay with her. When he realized that he
was talking about them having sex he blushed deeply. Then he mumbled something
about just meaning that he really liked her. She let him squirm for a few moments
before saying, "Why don't you come to my apartment?" "You mean now?" "Sure."

In a happy daze he walked with her the few blocks to where she lived. Weesy stopped
on the way at a newsstand and grabbed half a dozen candy bars which she let him pay
for. Her apartment was on the second floor and, as he followed her up the steps, he
was mesmerized by her double-wide, rolling backside. As they entered he was struck
by the untidiness of the place. There was take-out food packaging, empty snack food
bags, and discarded soda bottle and cans all over the place. She had left a copy of
Playgal on the coffee table and it was opened to a two-page spread of an alarmingly
well hung young guy. Kelton mentally compared himself to the model and was ashamed
of how poorly he stacked up. She didn't bother to close the magazine as she dropped
her bottom onto the sofa. He went to sit beside her but she told him to go and get
her a bottle of fruit juice from the fridge. He thought that at least she was
drinking one healthy thing, but it turned out the beverage didn't contain any real
fruit juice. With a sigh he started back to her. Weesy had thrown one leg up on
the sofa, showing off her black shoe with the medium stacked heel. He licked his
lips u*********sly as he handed her the drink. She patted the spot in front of her
leg. He sat gingerly and then she d****d the leg across his shoulders and said,
"Look, you told me that if we had sex you would stay with me. That's like a
promise. Right?" "Well... yes." "And you would have whatever kind of sex I
wanted?" Kelton was desperate enough that he couldn't think of any type of sex he
wouldn't like, so he said yes again, this time even managing to put some conviction
into his voice. Weesy grinned and said, "Cool. Let's go to my bedroom."

She moved her leg and he stood up. Then she got onto her feet and put her arms
around him. When she gave him a hug he almost melted. Those massive boobs were
mashed against his narrow chest. She laughed softly at his helplessness, released
him, and strolled confidently away. He followed eagerly. When they got to her bed
she ordered Kelton to kneel and remove her shoes, then to take down her pants. The
panties she had on were white and thin, so he could see the darkness of her
overgrown pubic bush through them. She made him take them off her. Not bothering
to get the rest of the way undressed, she flopped back on the bed with her legs well
apart. He gawked at her lewdly exposed gash, with its protruding, rippled lips.
Weesy told him, "All right, loverboy. Strip down. Let's see what you've got." He
wished the lights were off or at least dimmed but realized that wasn't going to
happen. Having no alternative, he undid his trousers and let them fall. With them
still around his ankles he unbuttoned his shirt. Soon he was down to only his
jockey shorts. When he dropped them Weesy snorted derisively. He knew she was
reacting to the sight of his undersized penis and near absence of hair down there.
She announced, "Okay, time to keep your promise to me. Get between my legs give my
honeypot a big kiss. A big DEEP kiss." He suddenly felt dizzy. She wanted him to
use his mouth on her vagina? That was one type of sex Kelton hadn't considered.
All at once he wanted to retreat but his need for her acceptance was too strong.
Taking a long breath, he knelt between her hefty thighs, lay on his belly, grateful
that at least he was hiding his small dick, and put his face directly in front of
her moist, parted labia.

The smell was overpowering. It was unpleasant and promised an even worse taste. He
extended his tongue, closed his eyes, inched forward and licked her cleft from
bottom to top. He knew enough from reading dirty stories on-line, even though he
usually skimmed over the oral sex scenes, to linger on her clitoris, to lick and
then suck it. Weesy rewarded him with a loud sigh. She shifted her hips, getting
comfortable and, at the same time, rubbing her smelly mound against his face. He
kept lapping and sucking, happy to be able to give her pleasure, eager to get an
equivalent payback. He pictured her lavishing oral attention on his penis and that
kept him going as he got her more and more excited. Finally, after a long quarter
hour, she exploded wetly. Kelton had to work to keep up with her juicy output. At
last she settled down. He pulled his face away, wet from nose to chin, her pungent
scent strong on his skin, but she grabbed his hair and shoved him back into place.
"More," she moaned petulantly. "Don't stop." He took a deep breath and resumed
pleasuring her. After an added half hour she had a second wild ride of a climax.
Then, with a final twenty minutes of slurping, he gave her yet another delirious,
quaking orgasm. Weesy relaxed. Before he could move she raised her knees and told
him, "Lick my butt crack, Kelty. That would feel soooo good." Then, in a firmer
voice she added, "Don't ruin my mood." He felt threatened and, even though he
didn't want to, got his nose into the unwashed valley of her behind and began to use
his tongue. She purred happily. After keeping him at it for a quarter hour she
said seductively, "Hey, baby, you know what would feel really good? If you gave me
a kiss back there. You know where. A nice DEEP kiss."

He paused. She couldn't be serious. But everything that had happened up until then
made him continue. He used his tongue the way she wanted, hating the taste from
inside her. She squirmed contentedly against his face and didn't let him stop until
she was certain that he knew his place in their relationship. Then she told him to
stand up alongside the bed. He did and she put her pudgy fingers on his stiff
little pecker. Weesy said, "It's so tiny and cute. Look how I can completely cover
it with my hand." She giggled. "But I'm not going to finish you. Once a guy gets
off he loses interest. And I plan to keep you very interested, very horny, so
you'll always be ready to do your best with your talented mouth on my cooze. Won't
that be nice for me?" He wanted to point out that, as nice as it would be for her,
it would be awful for him to be given blue balls just so she could selfishly have
her own needs fulfilled. But he didn't. Her manipulation of his penis felt
incredibly pleasant. She rolled onto her side without stopping. He gazed longingly
down at her heavy boobs. She used her unoccupied hand to tease his nipples, making
him gasp and breath hard. Weesy brought him to the edge twice before she stopped
and left him standing there awkwardly, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip of
his neglected member. She rolled onto her front and said sl**pily, "You stay right
there while I nap. That way you'll be available if I want any more special
attention." Then she drifted off to sl**p. Too intimidated to disobey, he stood
there, his erection wilting. For the next hour he couldn't stop looking at her wide
bottom, full thighs, and sturdy calves. Even her small feet intrigued him.

When she finally awoke it was to testily order him to fetch her a can of soda and
bag of corn puffs. For the next several hours she kept him naked while she put on a
robe and watched TV. He had to be there for whatever she required, which included
more snacks, a second soda, a foot rub, and then being her human footstool. Making
him serve her was such an aphrodisiac that by the end she had him kneeling between
her widely spread thighs eating her while she watched two episodes of Full Armored
Jousting. That program always got her excited with its young guys, violent
horseback encounters, and high testosterone levels. Weesy told him more than once
not to finish her before the second episode was over. She had a hip-jerking finale
that almost smothered him. To give one more demonstration of her power over him,
she made Kelton keep his face pressed against her soaked hairy mound while she
treated herself to another two hours of TV. He couldn't see any of it and, whenever
anything interesting was being said, she clamped her well upholstered thighs over
his ears so he couldn't hear, either. All that time she was thinking that she
wanted to keep this one-sided relationship going and going and going.

For the next three months she moved forward with her plan, keeping Kelton yearning,
teasing him sexually, making him wait on her, not letting him be with other people,
and most of all using him as her sex slave. Weesy made sure to remind him over and
over that he was inadequate for real sex and that no other woman would be so
forgiving about it as she was. The few times she permitted him to cum, she made
sure it came with a price. He would be ordered into the missionary position, but
forbidden to do more than touch her succulent cleft with the end of his penis. It
got him maddeningly aroused. Then she would toy with his receptive nipples until he
was groaning from frustration. At last, when he was on the verge of exploding, she
would rub her pussy against his overstimulated dick-head and f***e him to spurt.
His mess would go all over her rubbery outer lips. Then, while he was still trying
to enjoy his rare relief, she would snap at him to get his face down there and clean
her up, keeping him at it until she had at least one orgasm. Consuming his own
ejaculate was the cost of his occasional cums. At the end of those twelve weeks she
hit him with the bombshell, deciding out loud, "We need to get married, Kelton. It
doesn't make any sense for you to keep paying rent on your place. You'll move in
here and pay my rent. Then we'll get hitched." He looked around him at the mess
that he was constantly working to clean up. Then he looked at Weesy, lounging on
her sofa, wearing only a tube top, her pudgy belly, wide hips, furry snatch, fat
thighs, firm calves and dirty feet all on display. He swallowed hard and got onto
his knees, as if proposing, and told her, "Yes, Weesy, we should. I love you. I
want to live here with you." She had the hook in deep but still didn't want to risk
it slipping out. So she had him sit alongside her and put his head on her lap.
That got him hard instantly, even thought it also f***ed him to breath in the
choking stink of her sweaty crotch.

Soon they were wed. On their wedding night she granted him limited contact with her
pussy. He was allowed to put the entire head of his immature dick inside before she
rushed him into premature ejaculation. Then she made a joke about how he had no
self control, even as she was pushing him down there for his usual messy cleaning
job. She had him so firmly under her thumb that he was actually grateful to be
given even that limited version of intercourse. His hopes rose unrealistically and
his love deepened pathetically. She congratulated herself on how utterly he had
been brought under her control and decided that it would soon be time for her to
begin cheating on him. More and more she taunted him about being BIB -- Bad In Bed
-- and soon was joking that his inability gave her the right to seek satisfaction
elsewhere. He got nervous but kept telling himself that it was just her k**ding
around. He was so deep into denial that when she started calling a guy she had
dated once before, Gunner, he blamed himself because of his lack of conversational
skills. Then she said that she was going out with Gunner for a drink. Kelton got
tipsy after one beer, so he rationalized that she wanted someone who could hold his
alcohol. What she always referred to as a Real Man. When Gunner came to pick her
up, Kelton saw what kind of man he was: tall and powerful, with a beer gut and
thick, drooping mustache. He had on a tank top and jeans, along with heavy-soled
work shoes. Why couldn't she see how much better of a dresser Kelton was, with his
pastel dress shirts, neat slacks, and well shined shoes? Gunner looked down at the
shorter man with an expression of total contempt. He said, "I can see why your hot
wife wants to go out with me. You're less than nothing, you loser. I'm sure she
just married you for your paycheck." Weesy laughed and added, "Plus, he picks up
after me, does all the housework, and eats pussy like he's trying out for The
Lesbian Olympics." Gunnar guffawed rudely at that and commented, "That's funny.
You turned him into a male lesbian. Except that any real dyke wouldn't want him.
She'd just smack him around and send him home to you crying like a little boy."
"Yeah," she agree. "And he's got a little boy dick to go along with that."

When they left, Kelton started right away with his housework. He would have liked
to have put on the cable TV's classical music station, but she had forbidden that.
She had also taken away his rights to coffee, sweets, books, magazines, and most
foods he liked. He wasn't even allowed to make phone calls. She made him kiss her
pussy and ass good morning and good night. He also had to taste her right before
meals, so that his appetite would be spoiled. She delighted in ruining any chance
he had to relax or enjoy himself. His two main pursuits were keeping her pussy
sated and desperately trying to earn himself the occasional orgasm. As he
hand-laundered her panties, getting extra wired up just from touching them, he
couldn't stop feeling sorry for himself. At the same time, she had done such a good
job of convincing him that everything was his fault, that he had earned all her
punishments and restrictions, that he blamed himself for all his troubles. And he
kept thinking about Weesy's oversized curves and imagining Gunner's hands all over
them. She had said they were only going out for a drink but she had also been
making so many of those comments about needing A Real Man to fulfill her needs. He
winced as he pictured the towering Gunner holding her, tracing the contours of her
body with his big calloused fingers. In Kelton's mind's eye he saw them kissing.
So starved was the wimpy husband for sex that even images of another man possessing
his wife gave him an erection. He was shamed by that. When all the panties were
washed and hung on the line with miniature clothespins bought just for that purpose,
he hurried to begin his vacuuming. Weesy couldn't abide the noise of the vacuum
cleaner so he had to use it when she was out. Kelton started to sniffle. She
couldn't be unfaithful to him, could she?

He got his answer when his full-figured bride returned. She gave Gunner a long kiss
in the apartment's doorway before saying goodnight to him. She smelled of beer and
bar food, and her clothes and hair were disarranged. She smiled lopsidedly at her
husband and pulled her stretchy top up over her head and off. Her hefty tits sprung
free, unhampered by a bra. There were bite marks, love bites, all over them. She
chuckled at his shocked expression and, in case he still had any doubts said,
"Gunner put those there. And yes, he fucked me. I sucked on his cock, which is
huge, and then he rammed it into me and slammed me for over a half hour, a hell of a
lot longer than you could ever last." Kelton began to cry. She stuck out he lover
lip to mock him and said, "Poor baby. Doesn't have a full-sized prick so his wife
has to get humped by somebody else. Well, get used to it, loser, because Gunner
liked it and he says he wants sex with me about three times a week. Between his big
cock and your well trained tongue, I'll finally have all the fun I want." His mouth
opened and closed but no words came out. She sneered at him and said, "In fact,
after the two hard, deep orgasms Gunner gave me, all I need to make my date night
perfect is a few of those soft cums you give me with your mouth, weakling. And I
mean RIGHT NOW." He looked at her with incomplete comprehension and said, "But, did
you clean up after...?" "After Gunner fucked me like a street corner whore? Nah, I
was too knocked out to bother. You can make me nice and fresh when you go down on
me for your midnight snack. And that's what you'll be doing after every one of my
dates with him, so get used to it, wimpy."

That was the worst night so far for Kelton. He was thoroughly sickened by having
to lap up and gulp down all the thick salty spunk her date had left behind.
Eventually she had her climax and he was allowed to stop, but she warned him not to
wash the mess off his face or rinse his mouth or even drink anything. "I want you
to taste his slime all night long." She laughed wickedly. "It'll help you get used
to it." Kelton knew he would NEVER get used to such a disgusting act. It made him
feel like even less of a man than usual. But she was true to her intentions and
went out with Gunner three or four times weekly, had great sex, came home and
wouldn't shut up about how her lover was GIB --Good In Bed -- before she made her
cuckolded husband slurp up the big ape's cum while working her gradually to an
orgasm. Kelton was sickened but always did as he was told. Making him disgrace
himself that way, as well as breaking his heart every time she cheated, got her
wildly horny, so that she was demanding oral sex from him even more than before.
Weesy cut back on his orgasms until he was desperate for the once-a-month release
she permitted so that she could make him lap up his own small output of thin jizz.
It delighted her to have him eat her ass, sometimes making him keep his face in the
sweaty crack of her butt afterwards, while she napped for an hour or more. She
couldn't imagine a better situation for her to be in. Best of all, she knew that
her weakling husband was completely under her spell and that she could prolong his
misery for decades. Sometimes she wondered what would be left of him by their 20th
anniversary. It would be fun to find out.

82% (8/2)
Posted by dig420
3 years ago    Views: 1,136
Comments (1)
Reply for:
Reply text
Please login or register to post comments.
3 years ago