Ssbbw Goddess Dream Come True.
Lorna was a friend of a friend; I first met her through my attraction to Jenny. Jenny was embarrassed about her weight and never had a boyfriend, but she was the first fat girl I summoned the courage to tell about my attraction to fat women. One night the two of them came to a nightclub where my band was playing. As soon as I saw Lorna, she captivated me with her face and full figure–about 40 lbs heavier than Jenny. We made furtive eye contact, but I played it shy, not wanting to hurt Jenny’s feelings, because she thought I was interested in her. Lorna was about 250 at the time and the mental image of her hoisting her big butt onto a small barstool had already been burned in my mind for eternity. Her belly bulged out despite the fluffy blouse and her healthy breasts rested upon it helplessly, having nowhere else to go and nowhere to hide. We struck up an innocent conversation a week later as I saw her dance for the first time, but again, I kept it very casual so as not to hurt Jenny’s feelings. I didn’t see or speak to Lorna for many years after that.
Ultimately, I couldn’t hide my interest in Lorna from Jenny. I was traveling constantly during the next year, and called Jenny a few times to chit-chat, talk about fat, and see if she had gained any weight. I always asked if Lorna had gained as well. During one call, Jenny informed me with embarrassment that she had eaten her way to 300 pounds, and my reaction over the phone left no question in her mind that I was incredibly aroused. She giggled, then said “Lorna has gained weight, too.” She then teased me by making me guess how much. After several incorrect answers of increasing magnitude, I finally elicited the admission that Lorna was over 400 pounds. I was flabbergasted, and Jenny could tell by how I sounded on the phone. I knew she was hurt by my persistent curiosity about Lorna, and now she knew that I was more than curious; I was infatuated. For months after that conversation my mind would spin as I tried to visualize these two women growing fatter in my absence. To Jenny’s credit, she selflessly indulged me by enabling a fateful meeting with Lorna a few months later.
Jenny must have told Lorna how I reacted to the “400” revelation. One night I was playing a club date in a town 2 hours away. I was in the middle of the next-to-last set when I saw a large woman enter the room and take a seat near the back at a table by herself. She was more than large, she was huge. Though I only caught a glimpse of her while I was performing, I instantly knew it was Lorna, because I had told Jenny where I’d be playing and put two and two together in a millisecond. I’d only met Lorna twice and hadn’t seen her for about 5 years. I could barely keep my mind on playing. During the next break I made my way through the crowd to the restroom, then got caught up in several conversations with patrons and fellow band members while I got some water. The break was soon over and I had to take to the stage again for the last 45 minutes. All I could think about was how to approach this woman. I didn’t have to ponder long. The last set ended, we were turning off our gear for the night, the room was clearing out, and she took that as her cue. She caught my eye, beckoned me with her finger, and, hypnotized, I had no choice but to comply.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Of course, Lorna. I remember you!” We talked at her table for a while, where I learned that Jenny had indeed told her where I was. We decided to go to the 24-hr restaurant down the hill from the hotel and talk more. Any time prior to this I would have been hesitant to be seen in public escorting such an obese woman, but this was an historic moment. The restaurant was filled with strangers, but even if it were full of my friends, I wouldn’t care. This was my baptism to the world of truly fat women.
“Let’s get something sinfully fattening,” she said with a coy smile, and a few minutes later a dessert cake called Death By Chocolate arrived with ice cream for her and a coffee for me. We had a strictly platonic conversation, although we both knew why we were suddenly sharing a table after all this time. When we finished, she said she knew I was probably tired from performing all evening. But instead of saying goodbye, we sat in her car and talked for what seemed like hours. In the privacy of the parking lot, I spilled my guts to her. I confessed that I had always had an irresistible attraction to fat women in general and her in particular; I had first approached Jenny but couldn’t help myself from wanting Lorna more.
“Can I use that word—fat?” I ventured.
“Of course you can. It’s a beautiful word!” was her reply. We marveled at the fact that in the years since we first met, she had gained over 150 pounds. Then I asked if I could do something I’d never done before. I wanted to touch a fat woman’s belly, and hers barely fit behind the steering wheel. She allowed me, so I did—cautiously and only with light strokes on the surface of her clothing. As we talked more, my caresses became more pronounced; I used my full open palm and gently pressed her belly to feel its heavenly resilience. I must have done that for another hour as we talked about how she loved being fat and how I loved that. I didn’t venture inside her blouse, but gauged her belly’s panoramic expanse across her wide hips, its outward protrusion, softness, and its incredible bouncy mass as we talked about everything and nothing at all. She admitted to being a little over 400 lbs; maybe 415 or 425, she wasn’t sure because most scales didn’t go that high. But she declared she would never diet.
I was already trembling, and the mention of those numbers sent the blood pressure in my groin throbbing. I was trying to be a gentleman, engaging in friendly conversation that would pave the way for a second and hopefully more intimate meeting. I knew I had a rehearsal the next afternoon that I should have been preparing for, but I did not want to miss this opportunity to be so close to the woman who was the ob
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to my room?” she asked as I tried to be a gentleman and hide my true desires, still trembling and short of breath. The answer was obvious; I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I sheepishly agreed. I compartmentalized my lust, went to my hotel room and quickly breezed through a few new songs for the next day’s rehearsal, then hopped in my car and drove to her motel.
When I knocked on the door, she parted the curtain of the large window facing the outdoor balcony and I could see—OMG—she was wearing a yellow chiffon gown that made her appear even fatter than she was earlier! As she opened the door I immediately hugged and kissed her, then she quietly shut the door and secured the curtain. It was 3:30 AM. I had to pee like a racehorse. As I excused myself to the bathroom I noticed wet bath towels hanging, indicating she had freshly showered. Just for me? Mmm. I guess we were both planning to have sex that night, although she had been planning this long enough to gamble that the element of surprise would work; and it did. I washed my hands and face and returned to the room, where I kissed her again and encircled my arms all the way around her. It was a stretch; she was a big woman, much bigger than I imagined her in my mind’s eye, but so wonderful to finally get to hug without the restraint of being in public or the front seat of a car. I stepped around behind her while maintaining the hug, kissed her neck and began to stroke her enormous round belly and breasts as she offered them to me instinctively. I gently untied her gown and continued my caresses while I kissed her neck and ears. I found myself gazing at the splendor of the fattest woman I had ever been with–how perfect everything was—her unblemished skin, her full jutting breasts, her endless curves, but especially her belly that was like a big round beach ball with a deep navel. We spoke barely above a whisper and a giggle, with no other sounds in the room to distract us. Time stood still; we stopped uttering words. The only sounds we made now were deep sighs and low moans. I don’t remember undressing, but soon found myself naked and skin-to-skin with her. We touched, kissed, and embraced with no reckoning of anything but each other and the realization that our foreplay was unavoidably leading to sexual intercourse.
It was the most mind-blowing sex I’d ever had. Not because it was rough or wild, but because it was so deep and spiritual. I was fully aware that our lovemaking would leave an indelible impression as each successive moment passed and as each successive move was executed. It was like a dance. Like dancing atop Mount Everest. She anticipated my every move, and when we shifted to get her on top, she whispered, “Yes, yes, this way you can experience all of me.” I could feel myself being gently crushed by every square inch of her 400+ lb body and thought “this is how I want to die.” Her belly magically floated on my chest, enabling her to slide up and down on my member like a pro, taking all of me inside her. She exuded the muted innocence of a schoolgirl who knew more about sex than she let on. In the dim light I could see every bulge and curve bouncing, swaying—heaving—when we weren’t locked in each other’s gaze. Our bodies couldn't have been more different, but couldn’t have been more in sync. We were a perfect fit together. The tissue-like silence of the room was punctuated with my low guttural grunts as I climaxed, simultaneously as she did and moaned softly “Ohhh! Ohhh!” as she hugged me tighter while arching her back and pelvis.
It was the most intense sexual encounter of my life and remains so to this day. I drove back to my hotel at dawn, but not until we made love a few more times and I was reassured by her sighs that she had come again.
I saw Lorna a half-dozen times after that, at her apartment back in our hometown over the course of 2 years. She kept gaining, with no apparent help from me but my occasional encouragement by phone. At our last meeting I spoon-fed her a huge ice cream sundae and listened to it gurgle inside her belly. It made me tremble; it was as if I could hear her getting fatter. She modeled a red chiffon nightie she had custom made and I almost passed out because all the blood left my brain for my steel-hard ****. I compulsively asked about numbers. She said that Jenny now weighed about 350, but Lorna saved the best for last. “I’m not sure exactly, but I know I must weigh over 500 pounds now.” Gasp! Again, I nearly fainted, but we managed to give each other a few more fantastic ******* during the night. In the morning she woke me by lifting her marvelously engorged belly and dropping it on my face while she stood beside the bed. I could hear it gurgling again, only this was a hungry sound, not the sound of satiation. “This belly is going to waste away to nothing if you don’t feed it!” So I did. Steak and eggs, home fries, toast, coffee, and Boston cream pie! And she benevolently crushed me in return, squeezing every drop of seed from me as I instinctively penetrated her. I don’t know if I was there for hours or for days.
My travels kept me out of touch with Lorna for the next year while I was on the road and she had moved from our hometown. This was the era before cell phones. We contacted again on AOL a few years after that; I was married and she was engaged but wasn’t sure her hubby would let her stay at 550 pounds; he thought she was too fat, the fool! One subject of conversation led to another, and then of all things, she admitted that besides liking tall men like me, she had a thing for skinny little girls! When she saw a pretty young thing she would wonder “How many of her would fit inside me?” She told me that most of her fat girl friends were bisexual as well.
Lorna remains the most unforgettable experience of my life, sexual or otherwise. After a short email exchange last year I know she is married and happy now. We both remember each other fondly and respect each other’s privacy. I can only hope that I am as unforgettable to her as she is to me.