Third Time’s the Charm

Everybody’s life went on. A month later, it was again time for the Get-Together.

Despite his failures, Nate felt like an old hand at this bash/dance thing: he’d successfully attended two, managed somehow to flirt and start learning how to make romantic connections, and almost succeeded each time he went.

Desperate Diane was too embarrassed to make eye contact with him when he arrived, dressed more fashionably than usual (now that he knew what the marketplace wanted). Feeling confident, he came right over to her and got her attention by taking hold of her hand. “Hi Diane. It’s very good to see you!”

“Is it?” she asked with the tell-tale tone of no self-confidence in her voice.

“Yes it is. I would like to dance with you, and if it’s OK, kiss you on the lips again. Because you’re a schweet person and I’m glad you’re here.”

Diane fought back tears, started to smile slightly, and engaged him for dancing. Now it was she who was lost for words, overwhelmed that a man who’d suffered through her stench and soiling herself would voluntarily give her a second go.

For his various, sometimes substantial faults, Nate did happen to be good at picking up on people’s personalities and feelings. He especially excelled at sensing what certain people (usually good friends) truly wanted out of life, and when they’d let someone do so, helped guide them towards their true self, whatever that might be. Most people knew that Desperate Diane had self-esteem issues. Nate intuitively knew how to boost her self-esteem without necessarily tying anything to himself. He smiled, revealed his genuine pleasure being with her, close to her, and now and then said things—honest, truthful things—which further helped her find her way to feel better about herself. He did so well that he succeeded in convincing her that she should allow for other opportunities to come her way this night, rather than make a mad rush with him out the door to get some intimacy happening. They made an agreement that if each of them was unpartnered at closing, they’d go home together. Throughout the night, they smiled and winked at each other as they danced with others, each secure in their fallback position and neither feeling bad that it was a fallback.

“Good god damming dogs!” Deb cursed. “Look who just arrived, bigger than ever.”

Nora continued munching her current phyllo pastry and turned to see Pam Siegel enter the club, waddling happily.

Pam’s major asset was her belly, so she made the most of it, splitting it in half with a shiny medium-wide black belt. The semi-sheer peach dress made her look especially rotund, which given her natural shape and knowing the intended audience as she did, is something which here at the Gravitational Goddesses Get-Together she wanted to accentuate—along with her auburn hair, which was worth making the most of in all contexts.

Plain rather than ugly or especially pretty, she chose her clothes well and focused on things she could more easily control, particularly the personality she projected. Her self-esteem was assured and strong without being arrogant. Out of everyone who attended these events, she was in the top 5 most self-accepting and comfortable with being a BBW—in her case a smaller-end SSBBW, at least now. She was totally into not only mainstream fatlovesex culture, but with the right person and often by herself, feedism as well. She was a true poster woman for eating what one wanted when one wanted and in every way unashamedly and proudly living life as a very open fat woman.

There was no way to hug Pam from the front or front sides without squishing seriously into her large belly—and that’s exactly what she wanted, from those with whom she chose to share hugs. Many such people were here tonight. She hadn’t attended a Get-Together for awhile, so initially she spent a lot of time greeting old friends before really looking around to see who all was there and whom she didn’t yet know.

Double D Deb’s beef with Pam was not her self-esteem—not at all. Deb too had what she considered to be secure, healthy self-esteem. What ticked Deb off was Pam’s positive outlook and more outgoing nature. Like Toni the Tigress, Pam pretty much never left without a lover, unless she wasn’t in the mood for one or almost no one showed up. Deb too more often than not left with someone who seemed worthwhile—as did Nora—though especially in Deb’s case the last few events hadn’t worked out this way.

Pam made it easy for FAs—male FAs, her personal interest—to get to know her. She seemed to have a sixth sense as to what a particular guy was primarily into, and especially when it was a physical attribute of hers (which a great deal of time it was, especially initially), she didn’t hesitate to preemptively bring up that aspect of herself in discussion, often speaking right up about her current weight, belly diameter, breast size (40F, currently), belly weight, or whatever else about her appeared to be of greatest interest.

When it came to be Nate’s turn, about 3/4s of an hour after she arrived, things went great.

“I hope you’ll take it as a compliment that I’m currently enjoying being intimately pressed into the most glorious, sexy belly of my life.”

“Thank you, and yes, I do take that as a compliment. I’m very happy with it as it is—I love how much of you I can feel through it and how it forces us to cuddle tight—though if things happen such that it gets bigger—which they probably will—I’ll be even happier.”

They ended their dance on good terms, even better when without prompting Nate reached over onto the communal pastry tray and handed her a croissant and jelly Danish.

“You goin’ to the table’s place, or it to yours?” Nora teased Deb.

“Oh shut up!”

“Seriously, if you remain back here hiding behind the fortress, that and your already off-putting ‘You can’t have a piece of this’ demeanor will guarantee that tonight is nothing beyond another viewing safari event. Excuse me whilst I go catch the eye of the pale redhead who’s gracing us with his presence tonight.”

Taking it as a challenge, Deb did push herself out onto the floor and easily arranged several conversations (she didn’t like dancing), but didn’t enjoy them. For some reason, she kept looking at Pam and especially Eh, each off dancing/socializing with others.

There were a lot of good-looking people at this event, so it was far from the case that all eyes were on Pam at the end—not at all… not even close. Still, more than a few people wondered with whom she’d hook up.

Turns out, it was Nate. She signaled him and he shot right over, having not really had other offers during the night, other than his pact with Diane. Fortunately, no guilt for him: she was sparkly-eyed over a dark-haired guy with light brown skin and a big, prominent, semi-crooked nose. He and she smiled at each other one last time, acknowledging their mutual success (with others).

As with Toni (who didn’t attend tonight) the month prior, Pam made it dirt-easy for Nate to stay on her good side. Unlike with Toni, Pam effortlessly kept the conversation going now and then, without it being a full-time gab-fest. Nate made a note not to comment on her musical selection unless the comment was clearly positive. Turns out, when they got inside her few-years-old red Camry, there was no issue: he liked everything he heard, musically and otherwise.

Unfortunately, things once again started to go wrong, from nearly the moment they got on the road. Succinctly: Pam was a terrible driver. She didn’t look carefully, tailgated, didn’t signal, drove aggressively, and spent too much time making eye contact with him vs. the road, leading to some near-misses and an obvious explanation for the various dings and dents he’d seen on his way into the car.

“Ya know, this is a 35 zone” he couldn’t help from saying as she cruised through it at about 55.

“Ya know, you’re a passenger and I’m giving you a ride, right?”

He nodded momentarily, his eyes growing wide as he noticed a legally left-turning car she was about to plow into as she blew through a red light. Her horn blazed as she made a well-practiced evasive maneuver to avoid a collision.

“You know you ran that red light don’t you?”

“Barely.”

“Not barely. It wasn’t even close.”

Pam jammed on the brakes and swerved hard over to the curb. “Get out!” she yelled.

He looked confused.

“Get out of my car now! We’re done.”

He opened the door, jumped out, and slammed it shut hard.

“Fuck You, Nate!”

“Fuck You, Pam!” He flipped her off as she sped away, not leaving him in the dust solely because this block was urbanized and had been street swept recently.

As shocking as it was initially, It was actually more of a relief to be out of her car, out of her life, and walking aimlessly—another bullet dodged. He oriented himself, and as usual started walking home.

This time, Deb happened to witness the drop off. She’d now seen him strike out 3 times in 3 dances. Despite it not being her nature, she felt a little sorry for him. As much, she felt bad for herself, and very much wanted—no, needed—some non-solo sex.

Just as he finished orienting himself and started walking, she pulled up alongside him, reached over, and rolled down the passenger window of her classic 1960s Dodge Dart. “Hey! Wanna ride?” she yelled over traffic noise.

His mind reeled that the stand-offish beautiful borderline big BBW/small SSBBW he found so captivating somehow crossed paths with him outside the Get-Together and was inviting him into her car, leaving him standing there silently like an imbecile.

“Come on, get in” she waved him over. “Traffic’s gonna back up.”

He jogged over and got in.

“Hi, I’m Nate” he said, extending his hand.

“Deb” she replied, keeping both hands on the wheel and checking her rear-view mirrors. “We’ll do the formal greet later. I gotta get moving again out in the traffic lane.”

{Whew! At least so far she’s a safe driver} he thought to himself. “Wow, I didn’t know these had seat belts”, which he buckled himself into forthwith.

“This one does.” She signaled for a turn, keeping her eyes almost completely on the road other than for brief fractions of a second to look over at him.

“Oh, I live over there to the right, about a mile up Vandorf.”

“We can go to your place I guess, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“OK, I better get into character for what I apparently am. Derp da derp derp! Hi, I’m a typical stupid caucasian male FA! I’m so busy ogling your belly, hips, and especially your epic boobage that I totally missed what’s actually happening and where we’re going. Derrrrrp!”

Deb couldn’t help it—she bust up laughing. “Big points for self-awareness! We hadn’t discussed it, but I thought given where we both came from that it was obvious that I was taking you to my place for, as I said, a ride. Please tell me I don’t have ta break that down for ya.”

“No, I get it. What I don’t get is why you’d consider such a thing when every time I looked your way at the dance you gave me what I’m quite sure was a ‘Don’t even!’ look.”

“Easy: my fat pussy’s achin’ for some rock-hard wang. I didn’t make a connection with anyone else and, well, you were there so I know you’re an FA and you apparently got kicked out of Pam’s ride, so… yeah.”

“Luckiest day of my life.”

“Which? Getting kicked out by Pam or me picking you up?”

“Yes, though if forced to choose, I pick the latter. ”

“What happened with Pam? Did one or both of you just want a quickie?”

“Didn’t get that far. I consider myself open-minded, but I have a thing against people who like to play bumper car out on public roads.”

Deb laughed again. “Literally?”

“Not today… at least not with me inside. Speeding. Blew through a red light. Almost rear-ended one car and nearly sideswiped another. Great belly, nice, confident smaller SSBBW, great personality… shitty driver. She’s earned every dent.”

“Good to know she’s not perfect.”

“Haven’t met anyone who is. I make an effort towards that but I’m in no danger of success.”

Deb wasn’t used to the man attached to the penis she sought being someone worth talking to. She found herself enjoying chatting with him a lot more than she’d expected—their mutually sarcastic, snarky senses of humor and world view were very compatible.

It felt surreal going up the steps into Deb’s small rented house, following her. Beyond her nice ass, he grew aroused taking in her side boobs, back boob fat, and her actual breasts unavoidably visible on each side of her at the same time from behind. With possible competition from Toni, Deb was A#1 for breast flesh at the Get-Togethers he’d attended and doing well in the overall outside world. While very much a full-interest FA, Nate had a weak spot for big breasts: the bigger the better, any shape and size, though given a choice (which was not an option, really) he preferred less veiny.

The air inside Deb’s was Holiday Inn stale and the house surprisingly messy (old stereotypes die hard), though neither aspect rose anywhere near problematic.

“So here’s how this works” she started to explain as she began to take her shirt off, stopping when she noticed he looked too distracted to listen if she went further. “Been awhile since you’ve had any?”

“Longer than I like to contemplate.”

“Yeah. I get pretty nutty after two or more months without.”

He silently thought how to him, two months would be recent.

“We’re here for an NSA fuck—No Strings Attached, not the National Security Agency, though as far as I’m concerned, they can watch if they want.”

Nate tittered briefly.

“It’s all about lust and fucking and bodies. We’re gonna fuck and fuck and fuck until the first of us has had enough. I’ll consider it a personal favor if you can keep it up without going off for more than a couple of minutes, but since apparently I’m your first in what I’m gathering to be years and you’re my only dick tonight, I guess I can’t be too choosy. No need to hug and cuddle nor kiss—none of it. You truly did luck out: I just happen to be one of those apparently rare women who aren’t any more into the gooshy lovey-fucking-dovey stuff than most guys. I might kiss you out of fucking lusty passion, but not love, and you can do the same—hey, are you clean?”

“If you mean no STIs, yes.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper from a clinic.

“This is 3 months old.”

“Yes it is. I got it before the first Get-Together I got up the nerve to go into. News flash: I’m a man. Worse than that, a caucasian male with an average-sized dick. I get to beg for sex and seldom get any. I haven’t had any non-solo sex in way longer than 3 months. There’s no way for you to know that I’m telling the truth, and other than a new test and you supervising me 24/7 to ensure I’m not fucking anyone else, no way for me to prove it to you.”

“Yeah I know” she replied, obviously thinking about things. “And I don’t even have a paper from this year. Fuck, I hate this part! Goddamn fucking STIs. If those didn’t exist, you’d be boning me bareback right about now and I’d be on birth control or do the morning after pill. You’ve got a condom, right?”

He pulled it out of his pocket with ease in a New York moment.

“Good. Just one?”

“Without getting too personal, it’s been long enough since I’ve had any that I have trouble imagining needing more than one per event.”

“I have some. Not that brand, though.”

“I don’t care. It’s going inside you—you ought to have majority say in the matter.”

Deb had to admit, she had a lot of respect for this guy… she didn’t always bed men this sane and reasonable. In a sane world, none of what he was saying and doing would be noteworthy, but in this effed-up world, sadly it skirted close to praiseworthy.

They spent a few minutes discussing what was and was not OK in terms of what they did, didn’t do, boundaries and all that very necessary stuff. Then it was time to stop yakking and start screwing.

He didn’t at all mind stripping down first, so she could see what she was getting. What she saw pleased her. She started with her skirt and underpants; his raging erection when he saw her naked fat belly bouncing around informed her that she had a true FA, not a poseur.

He couldn’t conceal his gasp of pleasure when she removed her top. It only got better when she unfastened and removed her bra. He started to make a move, then stopped. Before he could muddle things any further, she stepped forward and grabbed him, having her way with his wang, buns, nipples, and more. He got into the usual breast play—fondling, cupping, jiggling, motorboating—with unusual enthusiasm.

“Biggest pair you’ve had in awhile?”

“Biggest pair I’ve had the honor of touching in my life. So much bigger, fuller, and more wonderful than the next closest that it’s not even funny.”

“Don’t tell that to the next closest girl” she teased. “She’ll kick you out of her car.” Deb had very few self-confidence issues, and none in terms of her breasts, yet it was still nice to receive an honest, gushy appraisal from an admirer—especially when he contained his penile gushing for later, as Nate was so far doing.

Only moments later, they lost themselves to primal lust frenzy. They’d started out pretty much on the same page with the Dos and Don’ts with which they were comfortable, so despite having each given themselves fully over to their basest, most primitive urges, they each felt safe, comfortable and respected—again something which had not always been the case with Deb’s lovers.

A few minutes later, was time. He installed the condom and lay down on her twin bed, face up. She went down on him, all smiles, feeling him re-harden as her belly flowed over his and her large breasts hung and swung, looking even bigger as some of the side and back fat flowed into (or at least towards) them.

Never in his life had he experienced a ride like her. Their sex and especially her fat body transformed him to another dimension. He hoped he’d never, ever forget this experience!

Deb wasn’t what most people think of as a slut (maybe an ethical slut—a whole other category) but she was a free-spirited independent woman who’d had more lovers over the course of her life than she could easily count or recall without spending some time thinking about it. Mechanically, Nate wasn’t anything particularly special versus previous men—he was right there somewhere in the average pack. She nevertheless felt things she hadn’t felt since she was quite young. {What is it about him that’s so UNNNF! above and beyond?} she mused in her mind, bothered by her inability to easily figure out what about this sex was triggering these extra special feelings she’d nearly forgotten.

The two of them happily ramped up into a mutual moaning, panting lust frenzy, neither even slightly ashamed how much they were enjoying each other’s body parts nor how little in that exact moment they were thinking about the rest of the other person. Except that Nate was, here and there, thinking about the mind, spirit, and soul of the woman he didn’t know well, so joyously sharing sex with him.

No one was surprised when Nate started to cum, not quietly. Both of them were surprised when Deb came hard near the end of his cycle—Nate because he’d never felt a woman orgasm squirt before and wondered what was going on; Deb because she couldn’t remember having a squirting orgasm since reaching legal age.

Despite having listened to and comprehended her warning that she wasn’t a cuddler, it still surprised Nate when she pulled off and walked away rather than snuggling up or kissing or even touching.

“Nice” she almost nodded, putting her clothes back on and handing him his. “Give me some time, and I might consider doing this again with you, someday.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt a void in his chest. After all, it had been a wonderful experience—easily the best sex he’d ever had in his life. Everything as advertised, no surprises (outside of the wonders of her body, beyond words). He was sure that he personally had never before this moment rushed to put his clothes back on after sex. He and his lover had always at least cuddled awhile naked, if not usually falling asleep together, often cuddling again upon waking and sometimes when scheduling and bodies permitted, sharing sex again.

“No no no, none of that” she scolded him, as gently as she could, when he tried to approach her for a hug once they were both dressed again. “Let’s keep it to lust, so we’ll be good for next time” was her sendoff as she literally shoved him out the door. “Bye Nate.”

“Bye Deb.” He’d barely finished saying her name by the time her door was closed and dead-bolted.

Deb quickly cleaned up, had a shower where she cleaned herself extra well, and went to bed (alone, to sleep). She didn’t regret her decision to pick him up; he’d been a good lay.

As he oriented himself through his post-orgasmic daze, Nate realized that he and Deb didn’t live that far away from each other. A 6 to 7 kilometer walk wasn’t right-next-door trivial, but neither was it far enough away to require sane people to drive or, as he did to get to the Get-Together, take public transit. He remained in his happy daze all the way home, showering normally and sleeping very well indeed!