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Big Tits

Kate Upton, her ass all rosy from the thorough spanking I had just administered while she yelped with joy, is bent over a training table back in the deep recesses of the Atlanta Braves’ locker room begging me to fuck her brains out, when my fucking cell phone goes off jerking me awake. I come to lying on my sofa, having dozed off after a couple of beers, a chicken salad sandwich, and a boring Braves’ game. “Hello,” I mumble, fuzzy voiced.

“Let me speak to Connie, Jim.” It’s Sheila, my wife’s forty-three year old, narcissistic, binge drinking, forty-carat bitch of a friend who lives a few streets over. She’s always pissy with me on the phone, something I don’t fully understand because in person she’s so sweet that honey wouldn’t melt in her hot, pouty little mouth that looks like it could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, even to the point of being a bit of a tease and a flirt. Of course, in person we’re always with Connie so I don’t know how she’d act if we were alone and since we aren’t ever gonna be alone, I pretty much don’t give a shit. I usually just reply to her with smart-assed comments which, I suspect, drives her bat-shit.

She and Connie became friends through the neighborhood bridge club and Connie genuinely likes her even though Sheila is about fifteen years older and they don’t have shit in common. Connie is a push over when it comes to helping friends and Sheila constantly takes advantage. It pisses me off, but Connie doesn’t mind so I let it be.

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number,” I deadpan.

“Cut out the bullshit and put Connie on the phone, Jim.”

“She’s not here, Sheila. She ran off with some guy from Hollywood who likes her tits. He’s gonna make her a body double which is gonna be awesome—I mean, she has a great body as it is and if he doubles it, she’s gonna be outta this world, don’t cha think?”

“Quit fucking around and put her on the phone, Jim. I need to talk to her.”

“She honestly isn’t here, Sheila. She went to the beach with some old sorority sisters. They left this morning and won’t be back for a week.” She can tell by my tone that it’s the truth.

“Shit. I needed her to go to the liquor store for me. I’ve had a few drinks and I ran out of liquor. I thought I had another bottle, but I don’t. I really need a drink.” So you want me to be your delivery boy, is that it?

“Can’t Harold go?”

“No, the bastard’s gone to Tallahassee to visit his daughter and her brats. It would suit the hell out of me if he’d stay down there.”

“What about a neighbor? Can’t you run next door and borrow a cup of bourbon?”

“They’re not home and I don’t…look Jim, there’s not anyone around here I can ask.”

“I guess you’re shit out of luck, then, aren’t you?” Squirm, bitch.

The tone of her voice changes. She can be very charming when she wants something. “Is there any chance you’d go for me? I’m afraid to drive and I really need a drink, Jim.”

“I don’t know, there’s a helluva Braves game on. I’m really into it and I hate to miss it.”

“It won’t take you long. I don’t have anyone else I can ask, Jim.”

“Beg me.”

“Oh, Jim,” she says, annoyed, not believing that I mean it, but I don’t reply and there’s an uncomfortable silence. She lowers her voice and gives me that soft, sweet, sexy sound, with a southern accent that only true southern women can manage without it sounding affected, that resonance that’ll make both your dick and your tongue hard. “Jim, will you please go to the liquor store for me, please, darling. Pretty please with sugar on it?” Damn! She sounds hotter than Kate Upton.

“You can be down right sexy. You know that, Sheila?” I say, smiling, building her ego a little, then I give her a shot to tear her back down. “I never noticed that about you.” I almost laugh imagining the look on her face. “What do you want me to get?”

“A couple of bottles of Old Charter, please. Fifths. Half-gallons are too big and heavy.”

“Okay, Sheila, but you owe me. See you in a little while.”

Now even though she’s a bitch most of the time, she’s a good looking woman all the time and my money says she could fuck the horns off of Satan. She’s a bit overweight, true, but she’s put together pretty well—decent tits, nice ass, dresses to the nines, keeps herself immaculately groomed, carries herself like a queen and projects an aura of hard-to-get sexiness. You know the type.

She gives off this wanton vibe and is probably neglected. Harold is in his sixties and doesn’t seem to have much interest in sex—hell, she’s probably bitched at him so much that she lost her appeal. I’ve always thought she could be had—hard-to-get and all—if you ever got her alone and got a few drinks into her, but I never pursued her. First off, I don’t much like her and second it would be a risky hassle trying to get her alone and third I’d be running the risk of web tasarım her bitchy ass rejecting me and then telling Connie. It just never seemed worth it. But now, here she is home all by her lonesome, begging my horny ass to bring her some liquor. Ain’t it funny how fast your attitude can change when pussy enters the equation. Get ready, Shelia baby. Jim’s coming to see your sexy ass.

At the liquor store, I just go ahead and buy the limit, five fifths of Old Charter. I figure a gallon will last her a while although she can really go through the stuff when she’s on a toot.

When I get to her house, she doesn’t answer the bell on the first ring, so I ring it again, knowing that she knows it’s me and is just making me wait—that’s Sheila. She just has to do little things to exert control. I chuckle thinking about exerting a little control over her.

“Who is it?” she calls out, like the fuck she doesn’t know.

“The big bad wolf,” I say, “Open up before I blow your house down.” And fuck your piggly wiggly ass.

“Don’t do that. I might melt in this heat, I’m so sweet,” she laughs opening the door and reaches out for the liquor, but I don’t hand her the sack.

“What? You not gonna invite me in for a drink after I went and got it for you?” Invite me in or no drink, baby.

“Of course, I, uh, just thought you wanted to get back to your ball game or whatever.” She sounds a little flustered, like maybe I’ve surprised her by wanting to come in.

“No, I was looking forward to having a drink, too—you got me in the mood. Besides, it’s not every day I get to have a drink with the prettiest woman in the neighborhood.” She loves compliments, especially on her looks and age. Compliments that would insult most women, Sheila eats up—no amount of flattery is too much.

She laughs, opening the door wider, “Well come on in, then, before I let all the cool air out. I don’t want to air condition the outdoors, now do I. Just don’t pay any attention to how I look. I’m a mess.”

She’s wearing a pair of shorty pajamas with no bra. The loose fitting button up top virtually hangs from her nipples while the bottoms are a blousy panty style that gathers in the creases where her legs meet her body making a vee that ends at her crotch—sexy as hell. I wonder if she is dressed like this to tease me or if I really did catch her by surprise when I wanted to come in? Damn she looks good. Is the bitch setting me up? Does she want me to make a pass so she can reject me, then tell. Fuck it, I don’t care, she looks too good not to give her a try.

“You’re not a mess, you look good. You’ve got this whole ‘movie star lounging around on the weekend’ thing going—it suits you.”

“What bullshit,” she replies trying to sound modest as she closes the door. I give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her braless tits press against my chest and I’m tempted, for just a split second, to slide my hands up to them. Keep your cool, now. Don’t rush.

“I got you a gallon.”

“Oh, you sweetheart,” she exclaims. “Come on, I need a drink.” She turns and walks toward the kitchen, her slightly chubby ass swaying and bouncing beneath those pajama bottoms. She doesn’t appear to be wearing panties. Damn that ass looks good.

At the kitchen sink, she pours herself a really big drink, about three fingers in a juice glass, swipes it under the running water, tosses it down and chases it with a couple more swallows of water. I do the same. She likes to sink drink and so do I, it’s quick and effective.

“Whew, that’s good,” I say.

“I know. I needed that.”

“Here, let’s have another.” I pour us each a second round. She seems caught a little off guard and doesn’t quite know what to do, but accepts the drink. I figure two big drinks, one right after the other, will loosen her up. It’s a lot of bourbon.

Tossing the second drink down, she goes “Ummm,” in appreciation for how good it is and shivers, as a strong drink will sometimes make you do, causing her tits to bounce. I’ll make those things bounce good, baby.

“Damn, that’s good,” I say and put my arm around her shoulders, pull her sideways to me, and give her a kiss on the cheek. She likes it, I can tell and kinda snuggles against me for a second before pulling away, unsure how to act.

“I didn’t know Connie was going to the beach. I might have wanted to go with her,” she says, trying to make conversation.

“Eh, some college friend invited five of them—sorority sisters. I’m sure you would have just loved sitting around drinking some of that godawful flavored vodka shit that’s in style while talking about the time Sally Jane Slutbucket lost her virginity to some jock and got the crabs and they had to fumigate the whole fucking I Felta Thigh house.”

She laughs. “It might have been fun.”

“Yeah, I can see it now. You sitting in a sand chair drinking coconut web tasarım ankara flavored vodka and grape juice or some damn thing, listening to some gal you don’t know tell about the time she wanted a big cock and fucked a six-ten basketball player only to find his dick was the size of a roll of pennies.”

She laughs again. “Not the flavored vodka, but the rest might be entertaining.”

“What, you like small cocks?”

“No, silly.”

“Oh, you like ’em big, do you?” Easy. Slow down a little.

“Oh, hush. You know what I mean. Their conversations might be interesting.”

“What? Am I not interesting enough for you?”

“Yeah, but you’ve got stuff to do other than entertain me.”

“What? Lesee,” I say holding my hands out like scales, “Braves losing another game. Having drinks with the prettiest woman in town. Hmmm. Yeah that’s a tough one.” I laugh and slide my arm around her waist, give her a hug, then leave my arm there.

“Oh, you’re so full of shit,” she says, giving me a playful bump with her shoulder and pushes me away, but remains standing beside me as we lean back against the sink

I decide to increase the flattery she loves so much. “Damn, you have pretty skin. It’s so smooth and clear. How do you keep it so perfect?”

“Oh hush, it’s not perfect.”

“It’s damn close. God, I love it.” I nuzzle her neck and she shivers.

“Ooow. Don’t do that,” she says, scrunching her shoulders up and moves away from me. She acts a little unsure of herself as if she doesn’t know what to do and pours herself another drink. Got to you, didn’t I, baby You haven’t had a man in a while, have you?

“Seriously, how do you stay so young looking, have you had surgery or something?”

“No, silly,” she says and downs her drink.

“Well, you’re amazing. You don’t have hardly any wrinkles. You don’t look a day over thirty, you know that? “

“Oh, bullshit I do too,” she says, “But you know what? Dr. Neese told me that I have young skin. He said it might not wrinkle until I’m in my eighties or nineties.” Her speech is beginning to slur just a little and she seems to be warming up. I decide to press her a little more.

“Your skin is as soft as a baby’s, you know that? I just love it.” I pull her close, facing me, and gently run my finger tips over her cheek, barely touching it, like she’s a priceless work of art that I can’t resist.

“Oh, hush.”

“And you have fantastic lips, so soft,” I say and give her a peck on the lips followed immediately by a longer, kiss—still short, but longer than the peck. When I get you by the ears, we’ll see just what those sexy lips can do.

“Ummm,” she murmurs, surprised. “Don’t do that, Jim.”

“You’re not only beautiful, you’re sexy. The women are all jealous of you, you know that?”

“Oh, they are not.”

“They are too. You have a beautiful face and a terrific figure. So curvy. And a great ass. I love your ass, you know that? It’s fantastic.” I slide my hand down and pat her ass, then run my hand over it and leave it there. Damn her ass is nice. So fucking soft.

“Don’t Jim. Please,” she pleads and reaches back to push my hand away, but uses barely any force and I leave my hand there, continuing to gently caress as I keep talking to her, flattering her. She’s a little flustered.

“Women really are jealous of your looks. They see the way men look at you and it just drives them nuts. They all want to look as good as you—as young. They really want to look as young as you. You know they do.” She gives up on moving my hand as I pull her closer and give her another short kiss on the lips. I’m surprised she gives up control so easily. Yeah, been a while since she’s had a man.

“Jim, stop. You’re embarrassing me,” she says.

I know she’s talking about the kiss and my hand on her ass, but I pretend it’s about the flattery. “I’m just telling the truth. The men all look at you with lust in their eyes and wonder what you’d be like in bed. You know that?”

“Hush, Jim.”

“They do. They all imagine you kicking and squealing. Does Harold make you kick and squeal, Sheila?”

“Hush, Jim. I don’t like this talk.” Bullshit. You love it.

“What? You don’t squeal and scream?”

“No. Now hush.”

I pull her real close where my mouth is next to her ear and give her ass a squeeze. “You got a boyfriend taking care of you, Sheila? Is he spanking that pretty ass of yours? Showing you who’s boss?” Probably not, but I sure as hell will.

“You know better than that,” she says, weak voiced and takes a small step to the side, trying to move away from me, but wedges herself into the corner where the cabinets come together. I step in front of her, close, our bodies almost touching. She has nowhere to go now, her back is against the cabinets and I’m in front of her. You’re ready to give in, aren’t you, baby. Haven’t had a good fucking in a long time, have you?

“Don’t tell me no man’s ever made you scream. Haven’t you ever screamed, Sheila?”

“No. Now hush, Jim.” Hush, hell. This bullshit’s working, baby.

“Damn, you’re just like a virgin, then aren’t you?” I murmur, moving in closer, my mouth close to her ear where she can feel my breath and say, “If a man sticks a big thick cock in you and fills you up good and full and pounds you long and hard until you think you can’t stand it, fucks you hard like he means it and makes you come real hard with spasms rolling through your body over and over like they’re never gonna end, and you scream, jerking and shivering, then he’s getting your cherry, isn’t he, Sheila?”

“Oh my God, Jim. Hush. Please.”

I run my hand down inside the back of her pajama bottoms to her bare ass and kiss her again, holding it longer this time. I feel her tremble. “That’s good,” I whisper, then press my body against hers and kiss her again, holding her tightly while squeezing her ass. I can feel her erect nipples against my chest as she kisses me back, open mouthed, moving her lips and tongue.

We break the kiss and she starts mumbling, “Jim, you shouldn’t,” but I kiss her again and she squeezes my arms, emitting a small moan. This baby couldn’t stop now if the damn house caught fire.

We break the kiss again and I begin unbuttoning her top. “Jim, don’t,” she says.

I kiss her again and press my knee between her legs, putting pressure on her mound with my thigh causing her to utter a little involuntary moan. I brush her open top aside and cup her bare breast. Looking into her eyes, I slowly move my leg against her mound, squeezing her soft round ass with one hand while playing with her breast with the other, teasing its nipple, tickling its sensitive underside.

Her face flushes. “You better stop,” she says in a pleading voice.

I run my hand from her breast down inside the front of her pants. She tries to squeeze her legs together, but my thigh keeps them apart while my hand finds her slit. “Damn, that’s nice, Sheila. So fucking nice.”

“Jim, please don’t.” This hard-to-get shit is getting old.

Sliding a finger into her pussy, I look into her eyes and finger her slowly, letting my hand rub against her clit as my finger moves in and out. I love to see a woman’s eyes when she’s getting hot. Sheila’s eyes begin to droop and glaze—I love it.

“Your pussy’s wet, Sheila. Why are you wet, baby?”

“I, I don’t know.”

“You’re not getting hot, are you? You better not get hot, Sheila. I’ll fuck you if you get hot. I’ll fuck you good.”

“Oh god, Jim.” I think this baby likes being teased.

“I’ll stick a big ol’ dick in you. I’ll fill you up. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make you come.” I begin to finger her faster, looking at her face. Her mouth goes slack and her eyes roll back.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, Sheila.”

“No, Jim. No.” What the fuck? Is she trying to tease me?

I quit fingering her abruptly and slide my hand up to her abdomen. She’s squirming now, trying to get my fingers back, but it’s too late, my hand is tickling her soft tummy. God, that ass feels good squirming in my hand.

“Don’t stop,” she whines.

“What do you want, Sheila?”

“Don’t stop, Jim.”

“Ready to go to bed now, Sheila?” I run my hand back down to her pussy and circle her clit, making her moan.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, fuck you, I’m out of the mood. Telling me ‘no’ killed it, bitch. So, fuck you. I’m leaving.” Once again I quit playing with her pussy and move my hand back up to her stomach.

“No, Jim, don’t. I didn’t mean it. Don’t go. Please.”

“Don’t play games with me, Sheila. I’ll walk the fuck out of here and leave your ass squirming. Don’ play games with me.”

“I’m not. I’m not, Jim.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Yes, Jim. I’m sure.”

I slip my hand back down to her pussy, run my finger around her clit a few times, then slide it back inside her pussy. I finger her faster. I kiss her breast. I draw her nipple into my mouth and run my tongue around it, getting it wet. I blow on it and she moans, then cries out, “Oh, god,” as I let her nipple feel my teeth. I begin rubbing her clit real fast and her knees buckle. If I wasn’t still holding her by the ass, she would sink to the floor. She’s about to come.

I kiss her neck and ear. “Are you gonna tell me ‘no’ again?”

“Hun uh.”

“Are you gonna mind now, do what I tell you, Sheila?”

“Yes.” Fuck yeah, she likes being controlled. Hang on baby, I’m about to make your day.

I stop circling her clit. “What did you say?”

“I said, yes, I said, yes, Jim.”

“You mean, yes sir, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir..”

“That a girl. Now get your pretty butt in the bedroom before I change my mind.” I give her a sharp slap on the ass.

She yelps, tucking her stinging butt forward to avoid another smack as she takes a little hop step and starts toward the bedroom. “Yes sir, Master,” she says and I know this is gonna be good.


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