Fixture - Story (Patreon)

The doorbell rings.

I open the door.  Hmmm. A young fellow, looking quite earnest,
enthusiastic to talk. Something about saving Mother nature and
the whales. 

Cute: so I invite him in.

I offer him a seat. He takes it nervously, but keeps looking at me,
and starts blabbing about his ecological group, and where the
money will go. 

But he's cute, so although I am not really listening very closely, I
let him go on and on.  From time to time, he will look into my
eyes with this very eager and excited look, as though he wants me. 

Hmmm.

He may not be very big, but his mouth sure is large. He has such
nice teeth, and when his mouth moves, I like the way his lips form
all those big university type words.

No he's not very big, but then, compared to me, who is?

I realize he's not talking about whales or rainforests anymore. He
hasn't been for quite awhile, but I'm too hypnotized to notice. I
like the way his cute hands grip the page, and occasional thump
the table. His forearms have some muscle, that spreads nicely on
the table when he rests his arm there. That's all I'm really paying
attention to.

But he's getting more intense. Should I reply again? I have said
"yes" or "u-huh" I don't know how many times already, just to
keep that lovely mouth moving. Oh, he's asked a question about me.
My sweat-shirt: because it has the State U logo on it, I guess he thinks
I went there, but,...

"No", I say.  "...I just got it from the gym, from one of my friends
who works out there...because it's about the only thing I could find
to fit this body."

And I laughed, while leaning back in the chair.  Look at me, I
thought, as I leaned back, exposing my big hanging stomach, and a
pair of impressive breasts.  If the stomach didn't scare him away, he
would probably really enjoy my boobs.  But I was expecting that
the conversational visit would be over soon.  Maybe we have nothing
in common; oh well.  Nice watching you talk, mister pretty mouth.

"It looks v-very.... uh, pretty on you" he replies.

Okay.  I stop laughing, and take a closer look.  I see that his hand
is shaking. And he's looking down, not at me. What's he feeling? 

I had a conversation with a few of the boys at the gym just last
week. They were trying to explain to me about how some men would
see me: as sexy, even though I am so much bigger than even them,
the linemen from State U.  No, I am not as tall as all of 'em, although
I'm close.  They range from 6'2" to 6'7", and I'm taller than the
smallest.  The lightest is about 230, while the biggest weighs about
310 pounds.  I weigh more, that's for sure.

I reach across the table, to that shaky hand.  I spread my fingers,
and lower my hand across his much smaller hands, touching him
gently. He seems to receive a jolt when I touch him, as though my hands
gave him an electric shock.  But he stays where he is, looking at me, a
little dazed, I think.

"It's okay" I say, while trying to understand this myself.  What's
going on? I guess it's just like what the center  Big Bill-- said: some
guy would go apeshit, just to touch me.  Bill said that what they got
to see in the gym, when I stripped down to work would make some
men very excited. 

Bill sounded excited talking about it.

I had asked Bill if that meant him too.... he said ....no.
...but I had wondered.  There I had been in the gym, in shorts and
a tight little top, while pumping iron.  He had given me a pretty
good look.   

I thought of how quiet Big Bill had been, and looked at this little one,
suddenly so quiet.
"You seem a bit tense", I said.

Then I stood up.

His eyes followed me, tracking me, as though I was somehow scaring
him.  Of course the fact that I towered over him might have been part
of it. I guess it might have scared Bill, who was bigger than any of
the team. He was taller than me, but I was a lot heavier. Big Bill was
big, and I was bigger.  This one? His eyes looked up at me like
tourists visiting the big city. I was the bright lights, the Statue of
Liberty, the Empire State Building. 

Yeah, I liked that last idea... the biggest building in town.  So let him
gawk if he needs to.  He had never seen anything like me.

"Look.... I won't hurt you."   I walked around behind him, and put my
hands on his neck, gently. "I just want to help you relax, okay?" And
I explored the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Yes, there was
muscle there. Thank goodness.  While I may be a fat girl with muscle,
I really don't like men who won't have muscle, when they're littler
than me..... and almost every man I've ever met in my life is smaller
than me.

 Big guys, like the linemen, sure, they can be fat, as well as
muscular; but for such a tiny guy, I hoped to feel something really
nice when I rubbed his neck.  I put some of my weight into it, but
not too much, because I felt so much bigger than him. Even then, I
felt his shoulders bend as I pushed down on him.  In no time, the
knots disappeared.  I noticed that my boobs were jostling against his
shoulders: that probably helped relax him too.

I thought of what Bill had said. Was this guy what Bill spoke of: 
an "FA"?  Bill had made it sound like some kind of fetish or
defect. I dunno, but this guy seemed pretty cute to me, as I looked
over his shoulder at the way his hair curled around his neck. 

As quick as I could, I whipped my sweatshirt off. I still had my
workout top on underneath, and it was wet from the workout we had
just had this morning. I liked that blast of cool air on my nipples,
and bounced up on my toes as I prepared to come around from behind
him.

I knew this was going to be good.

I came out from behind him, and he immediately saw that I had taken
the sweatshirt off.  His eyes bugged out.  Was this the right
response for an "FA"?

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He nodded, and said nothing.  His eyes focused on my chest. Maybe
before, with the sweatshirt on , he couldn't see how big my breasts
were, but now? In fact, I realized that my nipples were standing up.

Maybe because I was excited too. I had enjoyed that sensation, with a
pair of breasts jiggling from the left and right of a man so much
smaller than me that I could practically wrap him up like a baby in a
blanket, between my big hot breasts... as though I was making a soft
taco, and he was a little morsel of something meaty between my big
white breasts. They were like bread dough, aching for the baker's
hands to knead, to dig his big knuckles into.

As he licked those big soft lips of his, I practically creamed, as I
imagined what it would feel like, if he put those soft lips on my
nipples..... no, WHEN he put them on my nipples. It was going
to happen.  I was determined.

Was I the only one here who knew what was going on? I could see
that he was excited; couldn't he see that I was, too? Jeepers, I was
beginning to smell it in the air. I was so wet for this cute little
guy, and he--with all that university talk-- was too stupid to notice.

So I took charge.

I grabbed the whole kitchen table, and pulled it back. And then I
decided, what the hell, let's go for a little theatre. I threw it
over, upside down. There was no food on it, just the stupid
rainforest pictures.  Oh, and I guess his elbows had been on the
table, so when I pulled it away, he leaned back... nothing compared
to the way he leaned back when I tossed that table.

He was maybe beginning to get a taste of how strong I was. But I
flipped the table onto its back, because I'm not stupid.... I was
planning to eat dinner off the table later, not spend money I didn't
have on new furniture.

He looked at me as though I might eat him alive. 

Hmmm.  Not a bad idea. He did look pretty tasty. And would he have
any choice in the matter? I was getting really turned on at the idea
that I had this cute sexy boy there, and I could do whatever I wanted
with him.

I took a few heavy steps towards him. Yes, I was barefoot, but hell,
I guess I'm big enough to make noise when I walk. I stood right in
front of him, and planted my feet, heavily.  I looked down, into that
face, and saw fear.  Boy this was fun.

"Don't you get it? Do you have any idea why I did that?" I asked.

He said "what", exactly like the scared guy in Pulp Fiction who keeps
saying "what"until finally the guy with the gun can't stand it any
longer.  I shuddered to think that I scared him, but I also liked the
way he was completely in awe, as though I really was holding a gun
on him.  Did I seem that dangerous? Hell maybe I could be that
dangerous. I looked at the table, and his scattered papers.

But I thought I should answer his question before he peed his pants
in fear.

I stepped closer. When I stood, while he sat in the kitchen chair, in
that slouched, terrified posture, my stomach was level with his
mouth, while my breasts were actually hanging  above his head, out of
reach.  I leaned closer, spreading my legs apart, so that my big
thighs were on either side of the chair. I grabbed his long hair in
one hand, and pulled his head back, to look directly into mine.

"You don't get it, do you..."

Before he could say "what" again, I leaned forward, flooding my gut
across his lap, straddling his tiny.... yes they were tiny, okay? 
his tiny legs with my really big, strong thighs. I pushed my gut into
his face, and felt his nose and chin. I used that hold on his hair to
press him deep into my gut. 

Hmm, that mouth.  I had an idea.

"Kiss me" I said, pulling up that shirt, exposing my bare stomach. I
felt that mouth on my stomach, and remembered how fine and sweet it
had been talking to me of beautiful things. How beautiful he was,
come to think of it.

Never mind the whales, who would save him?

I pulled away a bit, and said very loudly " I SAID KISS ME", and then
pressed his face as deeply as I could into my stomach. Mmm, but that
felt good. I relaxed my grip, when I noticed that he seemed to really
enjoy my stomach, or at least, was willing to make mad and worshipful
love to my stomach in the hope that I treat him nicely.  I felt his
hands reaching, one finding a breast that he teased and tickled quite
gently.  Ahhh, yes, the mouth of a little god, sucked parts of my
tummy deep inside, and then dragged those soft lips across my skin. 


"Ooooh, that's nice", I cooed. I pumped my hips rhythmically, in
spite of myself. I was definitely having a great time.

Then, just when he might have been feeling a little less afraid of
me, I thought it might be fun to startle him again.

"How much do you weigh, cutie?"  I asked him this in the sweetest and
most amorous voice I could muster.

I pulled my stomach back from his face, and enjoyed the view. His
mouth was slightly swollen, his eyes were watering, and he most
definitely was horny as hell from his close encounter with my
huge stomach. "Please don't just say WHAT...By now, I hope you've
figured out that I really really think you're CUTE. So, how much do
you weigh?"

He smiled.  Did he recognize the movie reference? But he didn't say
what, that's for sure.  "Not too big...I'm only 135 pounds.... is
that okay?"

It was my turn to smile. "That depends.  How do you feel about having
someone FOUR TIMES your weight, on top of you?"

I blinked my eyes, as though I were Marilyn Monroe or Madonna. I
pulled back, and then brought one of my feet up, placing it in the
"safe" territory between his legs. He saw the pink toenail polish on
my size 12(that's size 12 men's, alright?) foot. I leaned onto that
foot slightly, while asking him ..."so can you do math in your head?
do you know what four times your weight is?"  I think he could feel
the chair bending as I put more of my weight on the chair, just in
front of his crotch.

"And.... more to the point, do you think you can handle that?" And
here I put my toes onto his crotch, and just let the weight of my leg
give him a hint of what was in store.  Hmm. I felt something really
large in there, and hard enough that it really cried out for me to
test it, to see if that hardness could handle pressure.

"Can you handle this?"

I turned around, and measured where my ass came, relative to his
face.  Yup, this should work. His shortness and my height worked
SO well together. I had cocked my hips suggestively. Now I gave
him a closer look

"...or can you handle......THIS?" At that I pressed my ass back,
hard, into his face. I was still clothed, of course, so it was more
like a soft pillow than anything else.

I pulled away.  "You're going to see more...don't worry.  You'd
like that wouldn't you?"

Before he could answer, I decided to scare him again.  I turned,
and then, grabbing the front of his shirt, I picked him up off
the chair with ease, with one hand.  I held him off the ground,
because not only was he much less heavy than I was, but he was
considerably shorter too.  Holding him up, with his feet dangling,
off the ground I liked the sensation of complete power. 

"One thirty five?  I can't bench my own weight....figured it out yet
cutie? but I can bench the weight of the heaviest guy in the State U
offensive line.  I can curl you, honey"....and I did, just to show
him how easily I could lift him, and do reps with him.

"one, two, three....." and then I pulled his mouth up for a kiss.
Such a nice, succulent mouth. "okay....you count for me, okay, cutie?"

"uh, okay..."

And I curled him, while he counted each lift, as I pulled him,
pressing his face up to mine so I could kiss that sweet mouth. I
really liked the way it looked counting my reps for me.

I pulled him right to my mouth for each kiss. Such a beautiful mouth,
and all mine! I stopped, and sucked hard on those lips, as though they
were fruit, and even bit into his lips, his tongue, but not too hard.
I reached around, and found his ass with the other hand, and held him
there, a cosy little package, held against my stomach well above my
crotch.

I stepped to the wall, beside the door to my bedroom, and let him
down.

"How do you like it?" I really wasn't looking for an answer, so much
as trying to overwhelm him with the reality. I really liked the look
of complete dazzled excitement and terror he showed, at moments like
this. I stood on tiptoe, without shoes, but still more than half a
foot taller. I reached around the doorframe, and pulled myself
against the wall, with him pinned between me and the wall.  I allowed
my body to be completely flat, as it met his, to try to crush him
against the wall. I thought of those machines that flatten old cars.
What did that feel like? I suddenly had a huge rush, imagining him as
a little car, and me as the crusher machine, flattening him, no
matter what he did to stop me.

"Try to stop me" I said. I pulled away, and kissed him hard, only
grinding my pelvis into his pelvis.  "try to stop me from crushing
you through this wall...you know".... I laughed a wicked laugh, as I
thought about this..."my bedroom is on the other side. We can go
through the door, or I can simply squish you into my bedroom, break
the wall, if I'm too hungry for you, in my desire".

At that, I sighed deeply, and moaned, maybe a little too
theatrically, but trying to see if it would scare him a bit, or
excite him, to have a wild excited woman that he couldn't control.

He held up his hands, and pushed against me.  "Push harder" I said.
And he did, I guess, although there was no difference.  It was as
though I had put a grape under my foot, for all the resistance he
gave. I loved that sensation when his locked elbows instantly gave
way against my pressure, and I bashed him into the wall, deep into my
soft stomach and breast flesh.  I felt the drywall indenting slightly.
I pulled back, and really let him have it full-blast, with my breasts
clobbering him in the face, and the drywall dented even more. I
wondered what it would look like....a little dent the shape of his
back and ass, where I had pressed him into the wall, like a grape,
being pressed.  I thought of wine, and how juicy his mouth tasted,
and wanted to press him more and more. 

Then I stopped, concerned that I might really damage the wall. I
looked at the dents I had made with him, and thought it almost looked
as though I were a trades-person, re-designing the wall. Installing a
new appliance, or fixture? We put holes in the wall for lights or
switches. We build ovens into the wall.

Why couldn't I build HIM into the wall? I had practically hammered
him into the wall.  Hmmm. That sounded interesting....

I carried him into the room, dropping him onto the bed.  He lay there
dazed, but before he could recover, I went for maximum effect, and I
walked up onto the bed, and stood over him.  "You'll notice that this
bed is pretty hard.  It has to be, to support all of me." And to
prove the point, I jumped slightly into the air. I made sure that I
didn't land on him, because that probably wouldn't have been much fun.

I stood over him, with my legs spread, while looking down into
his face.  Then I bent my legs, and quickly dropped into a squatting
position, all the while above him. His eyes really went wide when i
did that. 

"Okay.  This is really your last chance. Tell me what you want.
Not "what" or "huh"....tell me what you want, and it might happen."

He didn't wait for even a second...this time he took ME by surprise.
He grabbed me behind the knees, and with just a little pull, got me
falling towards him.  I couldn't stop. I landed with my gut right
across his chest, and breasts covering his face, which wasn't hard,
because my boobs can cover a lot more than just his face. I was
surprised, so I didn't hold my weight back.  I heard the air whooosh
out of him, when I pressed him down down down into the mattress.

I got off as soon as I could, and checked to see if he was okay.

But he was fine.... and a little peeved, actually.  "Why'd you get
off? That's what I wanted."

I was surprised.  "You didn't ask me anything, though... you just
pulled me down".

"So? There are lots of ways of doing the same thing.  I just..."

He stopped speaking, and became bashful, shy.  But he looked into my
eyes all the same.  "What is it" I asked.

"I really like it when you squish me.  Anyway you do it....boobs,
stomach, you name it."

This was what I had been hoping for. I stood above him, on the bed. 
My pants came down, around his face.  I noticed he breathed deeply,
taking in my fragrance. So I dropped my panties, too.

He looked up, and simply said "I'm glad you're having fun". He said
it with such respect, I was really moved, suddenly. I had never seen
such a look of desire, and gratitude from a man, and here he was,
basically glad that I was happy too.  Oh, that mouth, out of which
such glorious words came. I wanted that mouth kissing me, now, even
as I almost came came came.

I squatted down, onto that gorgeous mouth. He didn't have to do much
because I was so close to being "there"...and it was good.

I lost myself for awhile, dancing writhing, and then ecstatically pounding
down for all I was worth. Yes yes YES, that chin and mouth, I wanted them
and then I felt him sucking my lips into him, and his chin sliding between
my lips as though it were his erection, smooth, juicy and slippery.  I bucked
on the edge of his face, the edge of ecstasy as though it were a saddle horn,
and tried to insert him as deeply as I could....or if he wouldn't, I would simply
scratch, rub against that hard edge, smooth it, bend it, make it fit, make it go
into me, pound down, drop, fall full force out of the sky onto that shape, until
it was in me, in me....that smooth sexy shape....

Oh... I had believed him, when he said he wanted all my weight pressing....
was he okay? I was suddenly worried.

I jumped up, and checked to see if he was okay.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked this, as though he was genuinely hungry
for me to get back on. I turned around to face him, and dropped my
torso onto his, while pressing my face onto his mouth...rubbing onto
my own juices. I could see that his small size probably made him
safer from me than a larger man would be.

Good.

Hours later, when that mouth was battered and swollen from my dance,
and from my numerous tastes of all that nectar, I got off, and went
to make something to eat.  He followed me, groggily, but as faithful
as a puppy.               

In the kitchen, I showed him some of my favourite appliances....the
built-in microwave, the oven, and then reminded him of the dents in
the wall.  I pointed out that he didn't seem to be in any hurry to go
home: where should I install him? I needed his mouth, on a regular
basis.  Could I please just hammer him into the wall, and keep him
there, like a bottle opener or a can opener, ready to service me
whenever I wanted?

Of course I was joking, but I meant it, in a real sense: I wanted
him, bad, and often.

He grinned back, as though he appreciated the joke.

"But is this the right room? I know this is where the eating happens,
so maybe..." he collapsed into a seat at the table, giggling
hysterically. "...but you're only here for a few hours. What room do
you spend the most time in? Where could I be guaranteed that you
would use me the most?  You know the way you were pushing me into the
wall, as though you wanted to install me like a fixture? Sure,.... I
would love to be a fixture in your life....

"....but could you try that on your bed? Try to press me, deeply,
into your bed, so that I would always be there, in that bed that
smells like you.  Until I also, just smell like you."

He stood up, and came over to me, and reached up to my throat, and
pulled himself up, meaning to kiss me.  I bent down, to meet his
mouth: how could I refuse? "See? I still smell like you."

And it was true, he did. I kissed him again, while I thought about
where I wanted to install him.