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No. 604
"Oh dear God."
Michael said this, both in his mind and out loud. This was only odd because they were two completely different statements.
Where Michael was, he was underneath his robustly sized girlfriend, Sadie, Her brown hair flying down to her ass and tickling Michael's nose. Michael wasn't a looker himself, possibly this could be half of the reason he liked BBWs, but he was better looking than the clump sitting on top of him so utterly convinced she was giving Michael the ride of a lifetime.
Out loud, he moaned "Oh dear God" because he knew that's what he should moan. Her giant ass was coming down on his face and by his own standards, he should be excited. Sadie certainly was.
However, in his mind, he reiterated "Oh dear God." Because he was bored.
He was bored bored bored bored bored. Bored of that same ass giving him air, sick of being forced to through his tongue into that pussy, simply unable to continue feigning enthusiasm for something that would end up fine anyway.
However... tonight, a little bit of his brain seeped onto his tongue like bile, the ugly truth of his perception leaking into his moan.
"... Michael?" Sadie lifted up, her face was surprisingly well constructed when compared to the giant state of her body. Others might classify her as a "butterbody". Michael thought it was fine either way.
"Mn? What is it babe?" He said, listlessly, finally tired of the charade.
"... You're... bored, aren't you?"
"No! Of course not!" Yes Sadie, I'm bored out of my mind, your skin and weight no longer arouse me, I'm going home.
"Yes you are... but why?" She said. Michael REALLY didn't want her to cry. With all the layers of chub protecting her, you'd think she'd be less sensitive.
“Okay, fine. I’m bored, are you happy Sadie? God.” He finally groaned and threw his head into the air.
“You didn’t answer my question.” She said with a huff in her voice and a stomp in her step.
“You’re not threatening. You say things like ‘you’re gonna get it, mister!’ but I never get it. Just your fat ass, that’s all I’m getting.” He was SO bored, he was entertaining himself by breaking her.
She bit her lip. Oh God, here come the water works, “I’ll drown in them. I bet her tears are fat too.” he thought. Her soft skin meant nothing to him anymore, nor did her cartoonishly long hair, which was one of the things that first attracted him to her.
“… Fine then.” She said, not letting a single tear penetrate her corneas. “I see how it is.”
At least she’s understanding then.
In that moment, RIGHT after the little quip cycled through his mind, RIGHT after he chuckled at himself once more for being such a cold, cynical bastard, his nose hurt REALLY badly and he was falling backward.
She punched him. “The bitch punched me in the face!” He was on his back, clutching his face, and… like so many times before, a giant blob of skin was coming down on him. It was her front. It came down like an earthquake. He’d known the feathery soft touch of her gently leaning down on him, but he felt the floor shake at his back. His body ached now, and his dick couldn’t raise all the way because of the walrus covering him.
“Sadie, stop!” Is what he would have been able to say were he able to create coherent words underneath this behemoth of a lady.
He could tell, it was her stomach on his face. Which meant his legs could still move! He struggled, desperately. He was running out of air and possibly bleeding. He shook and rumbled and tumbled and fought, but he wasted his energy fighting. What Michael didn’t know is that Sadie was now crying.
His face was pressed into her skin, no longer touching, pressing and with a force comparable to the heaviest pillow ever. He fought and fought. She was sweating onto him, he felt it on his lips, along with the condensation of his hot breath against his fleshy prison.
“Sadie!” He was unable to audibly vocalize. “Please stop! I am begging you!” Was the thought that could not escape his lips. She only shook her body to make his nose hurt more and he screamed under her.
He thought he was running out of air, he thought that he was about to die, his whole body was spasming and his mind was going blank, and just as he thought it was all about to end…
He came. His eyes closed, skull still breaking underneath a cocoon of hot, sweaty and heavy flesh, he felt euphoria as he felt the subtle undulations of a fat woman’s sobs.
He’s still unsure whether he died that day. Whether he died or not, he did fall in love when he finally freed himself from the angel from which he was wedged underneath. He probably died. Hell was the outside world, from which he was surrounded by cold air and nothingness.
He waited and prayed in that moment to be accepted back into the tan-pinkish womb of her stomach, wet, sweating, warm, flushed, heavy.
And he still had cum stained underwear.
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