0 comments/ 198679 views/ 38 favorites Shallow Thoughts Deep Subjects By: Mountain Rider Note: For everyone who has assumed that my stories are autobiographical because I write in first person and concentrate on the realism...how does this one strike you gentlemen out there? ***** Ahhh... Saturday. So there you are eating a hotdog and trying not to let ketchup become a part of your summer wardrobe. It's good of your best friend to throw these barbeques every other weekend, you think. Even if he never uses his own pool, at least he has the good sense to invite over enough people on a regular basis to make it seem worthwhile having it. That and there always seem to be plenty of girls in swimsuits jiggling around, and your eager buddy trying to fix you up with whoever might be available. Of course this ruminating on the relative benefits of having friends with entertaining space nearly costs you a blob of ketchup on your shorts. A deft if not graceful move saves you the embarrassment though, and you quickly finish your hotdog to avoid further complications. You decide to toss the paper towel you were using as an ersatz plate in the garbage over by the grill. This also happens to be conveniently located near the drink table, and you are suffering from a momentary shortage of iced tea. Then you see her. She's coming up the ladder out of the deep end of the pool, and everything snaps into slow motion. Suddenly The Cars' "Moving in Stereo" begins to play in your head. The sparkling pool water seems to cling to her every curve (and mercy there are a lot of them!) and only slide away at the last possible instant in the most alluring way possible. You have never seen water so reluctant to leave a female form. Her electric blue one-piece shows off her hourglass figure in its best light...not that it wouldn't look good in any light. This lady could have been a movie star in the fifties -- enormous up top, narrow in the middle, curvy hips below that. She is tan, but naturally so. She is tall, but not too tall. She is very generously proportioned, but with nothing extra. She's...well...she's perfect...if you like curves...big soft curves. As she gets out of the pool she naturally bends over by holding the rails of the ladder and walking up it. It's then that whoever designed the deeply plunged lace-up front to her swimsuit earned everything he or she was paid, and you are treated to a view down the most magnificent cleavage you have ever seen. Whatever idea you were just having is lost forever in the deep void between those incredible globes. The Cars play on, and your penis (sensing the temporal anomaly) springs up and asks, "Hey, what's going – WOW! DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?" Then because all your blood is rushing downward, you are only capable of a single-syllable "Uhhh?". Meanwhile your penis manages a multi-syllabic, "Boi-oi-oi-oing!" "Hey! Earth to red-blooded American male!" your buddy shouts at you from a foot away, making you jump. "Do you think you can be any less obvious?" he continues more quietly. Your Cars theme music ends abruptly with the sound of a record stylus being rudely dragged across a stretch of vinyl, and only then do you realize that you had actually frozen in mid-stride to stare at the incredible breasts now emerged from the pool. You turn to your friend and intend to say something wittily evasive like, "Sorry, I was contemplating quantum mechanics and was momentarily frozen while solving a fourth-order polynomial equation in my head." Actually what you manage is something similar to the sound Scooby-Doo makes when he's confused. It's much less erudite. "I know, I know," he laughs. "She has that effect on a lot of people." "Wow! who is she?" you ask, talking to him and gawking at her. "She's a new financial administrator my office. Just moved in from out of state." "I don't see a wedding ring," you say. "Is there a six hundred pound gorilla with her name on it lurking around somewhere ready to pounce on the curious?" "As far as I know she's single and unattached," your buddy explains. "None of the guys at work have asked her out though. She's kind of hard to get to know." "Why's that?" you ask, tearing your eyes away from her. "I'd hazard a guess it's because everyone looks at her the way you're looking at her right now. How'd you like to feel like prey every time you walked out the door?" "Good point. I guess that would make anyone guarded. That's why I keep you around, man," you say, "for perspective." "Yeah, well here's some more. First off don't point that thing at me. People will start to talk," he says, pointing down at the tent in your shorts that your alert crotch rocket has made. "Second, once you get that under control, go talk to her. You're an unknown, so you might get somewhere." "Ever the optimist." "No, I'm a realist. Your dick is the optimist. Talk some sense into it," he says and turns back to the grill. So you continue onward to refill your plastic cup of tea and to try get your penis to settle down. You think of politics, baseball, taxes, Roseanne Barr -- boom! that knocked him down. As you pour your tea, you realize that your host didn't even tell you the new lady's name. You turn quickly to walk back and ask him, and knock right into her as she approaches the table. It's an abrupt collision, but let's just say that you bump into her very slowly. Mercifully you don't spill tea all over the pool goddess, but a lone piece of ice liberates itself from your cup and arcs gracefully into the smooth depths of your victim's expansive cleavage. Talk about an inauspicious first impression. "Whoa! I'm sorry," you quickly apologize. "My head was elsewhere, and I wasn't watching where I was going." She looks down after the long-gone piece of ice and replies, "I was all set to be impressed if you had done that intentionally. That was a neat trick." "Nope, it was honest unpremeditated clumsiness. Seriously, I didn't hurt you did I?" "No, but I think your ice is lost," she says looking up. "It probably turned directly to steam," you say and instantly regret it. She narrows her eyes and moves to push past you, "Nice..." You stop her, "Look, I'm sorry. That was me talking past my embarrassment. I don't even know you, and I've already screwed up twice. Can we start over?" You extend a hand and introduce yourself. She takes a deep breath as if to shake off the cold shoulder she was in the process of administering, and grips your hand. "I'm Angel." In the front of your mind, but fortunately not close enough to your mouth to fall out like your previous comment, you think, 'Of course it is. What else would you be named?'. Out loud you say, "Pleased to meet you. Our host told me that you're a new FinAm at his office." "Yes. I just moved here a couple of weeks ago from a different regional office. I don't remember seeing you around work though." "I don't work there," you clarify. "He and I go way back though, so I have a standing invitation to all his barbeques. I don't even know half the people here." "That puts you ahead of me," she says, glancing around. "I know maybe three people here -- four counting you." It's taking all your effort to look her in the eyes, which are deep brown and really pretty by the way, instead of at her gorgeous cleavage. The temptation to talk to her breasts is enormous, but you figure you've already insulted her enough. It would probably be best if you made your escape soon. "I'm sure it will take a little time to settle in," you say. "Well, you were on your way somewhere before I ran into you. I'd better let you get on with what you were doing before I say anything else stupid. I am pleased to meet you though, Angel." You recognize a flash of relief and curiosity that crosses her face as she realizes that your exchange isn't going to turn into an elaborate pick-up line, and that - in fact - the chat is over. She smiles and her entire face changes. She has one of those faces that really lights up. One second she looks like a beautiful if somewhat distant FinAm, and the next that smile makes her look like...well...like an Angel. She's even more beautiful than you thought, and that's saying something. "Okay. I'll see you later then," she says. You pry yourself away from her smile and stroll unhurriedly back to your chair. Out of the corner of your eye you see her watch you to see if you associate yourself with anyone else, i.e. perhaps a female someone else? You don't of course. Right now you are blissfully unattached. Blissfully except when you get lonely. Blissfully except when you realize you haven't had sex in a long time...at least not with another person that is. You're happy to just sit in the sun and watch the people, but sure enough your eyes keep wandering back to Angel. More specifically, your eyes keep searching out her magnificent breasts. Every once in a while she'll catch your eye back, but it's never more than momentary contact. After a while you slip your shades on and lie back on the lounge chair. You figure that if you can't see her, you can't be accused of rudely staring. So you begin an examination of the inside of your eyelids, albeit unintentionally, and the next thing you know Angel is standing over you. The fact that you're no longer wearing any clothes, and that there appears to be a professional cheerleading squad leading a crowd in chanting your name doesn't make any impression on you at all. At the moment all you care about is that Angel is slowly unlacing the top to her swimsuit while kneeling between your legs. Her perfect breasts spill out and begin to swell. A small woman in a black turtleneck rushes out from either side and rubs baby oil all over each breast before disappearing back beyond your range of view. Your massive erection raises itself to block the very sun and nestles between Angel's now Volkswagen sized breasts. She looks you deep in the eyes and says, "Nothing would fulfill me more than if you would tit-fuck me and cum all over my face." The crowd cheers, and the cheerleaders begin to have oral sex with each other. "Hi. Mind if I sit here?" "Gaahhh!" you start awake suddenly at the sound of a voice. "Oh sorry!" It's Angel, and she really is standing over you blocking the sun. She has wrapped a sarong around her lower half but is still in her swimsuit. Her long dark hair has dried into a cascade of big ringlets over her shoulders. The sunlight behind her head halos her and glints off her gold hoop earrings. She's stunning. You check the clock on the wall of the pool house and see that fifteen minutes or so have passed since you last knew what time it was. "No, it's okay," you say as you remove your shades. "I must have dozed off, and you startled me." "I guess I should be grateful that you were not carrying a drink this time. Otherwise I'd be wearing it." "Yeah, probably," you laugh and sit up. You see her eyes flicker down momentarily and realize that you may have been dreaming moments before, but your hard-on is definitely real. Using the ostrich approach, you pretend not to notice your own condition and hope that it will go away. Nevertheless you are embarrassed, so you try to cover it by talking. "What's up?" Probably not the best thing to say given your erect condition, but it's what pops into your head first. "I just wanted to sit by someone I know," Angel replies, taking the seat next to yours. "I'm not having a particularly good time, and you seemed to be spending most of your time by yourself as well. I though at least we could be anti-social together." The two of you work slowly into a conversation about nothing, but in the course of it you decide that Angel isn't aloof as your buddy suggested. She's just shy, and probably does feel a bit like prey because of her looks. With breasts as huge as the pair she has, she's hardly inconspicuous, and she has probably been stared at the whole time she's been at the barbeque. She's the kind of beauty that men slaver over and women resent. That does things to a person's self image, and few of them are positive. To your credit you keep eye contact with her the whole time in an amazing show of self-control. She, on the other hand, continues to periodically sneak glances at your crotch. Your little soldier hasn't been convinced to stand at-ease in the slightest. I guess trying to not stare at Angel's stunning curves has almost as much of an effect on you as actually staring at them would. Maybe since you were already hard when she woke you up and your condition hasn't changed, she won't think that it's because of her. The trick is, it's not like you're carrying a small package. At this proximity, it must be quite obvious to her that you not only have an erection, but also that it's quite a large erection. You do find out over the course of the conversation that she is in fact single, part Portuguese via Brazil (on her mother's side), immensely intelligent, afraid of dogs, and likes Thai food. You also find out that you can maintain your concentration and painful erection for close to an hour. You seem to both really warm up to each other, and you mention what your buddy had said about her being kind of hard to get to know. "I don't find that to be true at all," you continue. "You're a very nice person. I would have guessed that you're just shy." "I'm not sure how to feel about being labeled 'hard to get to know.'," she muses. "Thanks for the compliment though. I guess I just have quick defenses against unwelcome advances." "How do you mean?" you ask. "Let's just say that another reason I came over to sit and talk with you a while ago is because you have been the only person here to not flirt with me, actively hit on me, gawk at me, or stare at me like you want to kill me." "I'm not entirely innocent," you admit. "I must say that I did gawk at you when I first saw you get out of the pool. In fact you stopped me in my tracks!" She starts to respond, but you hold up a hand to pause her. "However, my good friend and our most diplomatic host snapped me out of it and reminded me not to be rude to his other guests. Then when I did bump into you, I was conscious to try to be gracious after my initial screw-ups. I think you're gorgeous, but nobody likes to be made to feel like a piece of meat." Angel closes her mouth silently and thinks for a moment. Then she says, "Thanks for being honest. You have been really nice, and I think you hit the nail on the head." She drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Sometimes I feel like I'm just a chauffer for my breasts. People are much more interested in meeting them, than meeting me." She blushes then. You both laugh, and you say, "Well that does break some ice doesn't it?" "Tell me truthfully it didn't occur to you," she challenges playfully. You pause long enough to know that there is no way out and say, "I can't. It's the first thing I noticed about you, but I think I'm due some slack because you were getting out of the pool at the time and were bent over toward me." "So that is what stopped you in your tracks?" "Yeah, I tried to play it off like I was thinking deep thoughts and was distracted from where I was going. Really I was thinking shallow thoughts about a deep subject." "Deep subject?" "Your cleavage," you say. "Losing that piece of ice didn't help either. Now, however, I'm going to shut up before I ruin every positive impression you have of me." It's now your turn to blush. You sit there red-faced and try not to believe that your penis has actually gotten harder. Angel actually throws her head back and laughs out loud. When she takes a breath she says to you, "Well at least you have the decency to be embarrassed." "Mortified is more like it." "No, you're fine. I appreciate your honesty. I like that too: shallow thoughts about deep subjects." You feel your face cool slightly with relief. Then Angel leans in again, looks you right in the eye, and whispers, "But I do feel like you owe me something then." "What's that?" "I want to ask you a personal question." "Sure." She points at your alert soldier without moving her eyes from your own and asks, "Is that really all you?" Your face burns again, and you respond, "Yes, actually it is. I'm a little worked up." "About me or in general?" "Yes on both, I guess." "Hmm...impressive in your own right," Angel says still looking you in the eye. "Maybe a bit above average, but nothing that would win an award," you say. "Now I have a question." "Yes?" "Are you purposely trying to embarrass me to death? Because if you're testing to see if I can 'cool' my way out of this situation, it's not going to happen. You have caught me with a hard-on that you in whatever capacity have inspired, and there's no way I can explain my way out of it. I'm terribly sorry if it offends you, because I really didn't mean to do that," you say all in one unhurried breath. It rolls off so smoothly that you'd think you rehearsed it. "I think you have just 'cooled' your way out of it Mr. Honesty!" Angel laughs. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. Don't I know how it feels to be stared at? I was just wondering because you've been that way for over an hour now." "I am painfully aware of that." "You know what I think we should do?" "I think we should - " your penis begins before you succeed in shutting it up. "What do you think we should you?" you say out loud. "I think we should go be anti-social together over some Thai food. Know a good restaurant?" "As a matter of fact I do. Let's go change and meet back her in a few minutes." ***** Dinner just isn't dinner unless you can break a sweat while eating it. A good pad prik khing will do that. It's the red chili paste. It will also make your nose run and your eyes turn red. After all, what better way to win a girl's heart than to become the red-eyed, sweating, sniffling, chili-paste-smelling man of her dreams? It seems to be working though. Angel is still stunning in normal casual clothes, even with her own red eyes and runny nose. She's also fascinating. You hear all about interesting bits of her family and her job, places she's been, places she'd like to go, why in fact she's afraid of dogs, etc. It turns out that she is exceptionally easy to get to know. She has a great sense of humor and a very quick smart-ass type wit. In fact she seems like a great person, and you are both having a great time. All nobility and higher ideals aside, you can't help but notice the way she fills out her sleeveless tee-shirt. You still make an effort to not stare, but her enormous breasts are directly behind where she holds her chopsticks when she stops eating to speak. When the bill comes you pay it as if it is the natural thing to do. Angel thanks you for taking her to dinner as if it is the natural thing to do. You both get up from the table and simultaneously realize that you've just had a first date. You both also realize that you drove separately and you have no idea what do next. "My place for drinks?" Angel offers after an awkward pause in the parking lot. "Sounds like the natural thing to do," you respond, "but I don't really drink much." "Really? Why?" "I tend to make bad decisions when I drink." "Oh..." Angel says and another awkward pause followed. "Want to come over anyway?" "More than anything." ***** Her place is nice. It's simple, clean, and has that "nobody really lives here" feeling. You suppose this is because she's only been there a couple of weeks and only the essentials are unpacked. Boxes fill one bedroom, and the kitchen looks like it's never been cooked in. "It's a nice place," you tell her, "but it doesn't seem like you." "How do you mean?" Angel asks as she finishes giving you the two minute tour. Shallow Thoughts Deep Subjects "You are a complex and interesting person, and this place doesn't reflect that yet," you explain. "It will take a while for you to spread your Angel-ness through it." "That makes sense," she says, leaning off one foot to kick it up and pull off her shoe. The other shoe follows and Angel flexes her toes on the carpet. "Ahh, that's better. I hate wearing shoes. Make yourself comfortable as well if you like." You also kick off your shoes and sit on one end of her sofa. She drops at the other end and silence settles. You both stare at each other for what feels like a full five minutes, both make a couple of false starts at saying something, and end up just feeling awkward. Finally Angel breaks the silence decidedly, "I'm not sure what to do." "Me neither," you simply reply. "We had such a good time at the barbeque and at dinner that I didn't want to come home to an empty house. I didn't have anything in mind past maybe after-dinner drinks, but now I'm not sure what to do. I'm sure we haven't run out of things to say, but it has become awkward all of a sudden." "Yeah," you answer. "I'm not sure either. It seems that we're not sure how to be without a framework of activity or people around to give us boundaries." Angel laughs nervously, "Yes maybe that's it." There is another pause, then she asks, "Will you rub my feet?" "Absolutely! if you'd like me to. I'm pretty good at it too." You turn to face her end of the sofa directly then take a sofa pillow and put it in your lap. "Okay, make with the feet," you say pointing at the pillow. Angel props her feet up on the pillow while you rub your hands together to warm them up. As soon as you touch her feet, she relaxes back on her end of the sofa and gives a big sigh. You settle right into the rhythm of massage and the air seems to clear of all the tension that was present. "That is awesome," she says. "You are good at it." "I'm just good with my hands. This comes naturally," you offer by way of explanation. Her feet feel good, but your attention is continually diverted (almost to complete distraction) by the rising and falling of her massive chest as she reclines. As Angel relaxes and you work, the conversation picks back up and all the naturalness that you had been feeling with each other earlier comes back. She really is a great lady. All the curves notwithstanding, she makes you feel happy just by being with her. At some point later you stop to flex your fingers and rest your hands for a moment. Angel sighs again (watch those melons rise and fall!) and remarks, "Just because I am now completely melted into this sofa, don't get any ideas." "About what?" you say, returning to her feet. "Taking advantage of my hospitality." "I don't know what you mean," you say. Angel raises her head and looks you in the eye. "Oh come on...you mean to tell me that you are in the home of a single woman you've already admitted to being attracted to; you've bought her a very tasty dinner; you've put up with hours of conversation; you've reduced her to a puddle of relaxation; and you're not considering ulterior sexual motives?" She arches an eyebrow at you. "I find that hard to believe." "Didn't occur to me. I'm not that type of guy," you say honestly. "Pfft!" "No seriously. I think your incredibly sexy. You are exactly the type of woman I'm most attracted to physically, but I just met you today. I mean we're getting along great, but we barely know each other. I'm just not that type of guy." Angel looks at you with a range of emotions flickering across her beautiful face. You think she's trying to figure out if this is an elaborate charade or if you are telling the truth. "You are such a strange man," she finally says. "Earlier you had an enormous erection that you claimed I gave you. You were not shy about it at all, embarrassed yes, but not shy. "Now on the other hand, you're shy and seem offended by my suggestion that you might have sex on your mind. To be honest I can't tell if you trying to bullshit me or not." "I'm not offended," you laugh and go back to rubbing her feet. "I'm not bullshitting either." "But you're not interested either?" "I didn't say that," you clarify. "I'm definitely interested. All I said was that we barely know each other, and that I didn't have ulterior motives. I'm not that type of guy. "I hope it's obvious that I like you a lot, but I'm not about to take anything for granted. I didn't come over so I could get you naked. I came over because I'm having a great time getting to know you, and because you invited me!" Angel lays back under you foot ministrations and says, "You know I don't believe you're real Mr. Honesty. Guys like you don't really exist." "I'm all real, I assure you. I'm just plain spoken and don't see a whole lot of point in not being straightforward." She arches an eyebrow at you again and says, "Straight talk only then?" "Suits me," you say. "Do I turn you on?" You actually stop what your doing momentarily to look her in the eye and try to determine if it's a trick question. You don't think so, so before the pause is too long, you answer honestly, "Very much." Angel sighs, "Sorry to be so forward. I just wanted to make sure that I hadn't done something wrong to turn you off over the course of the evening." "Not at all. I'm trying really hard to be a gentleman and to not view you only in context of your sex appeal. I'm trying to see the rest of you as well. I figure that's where others may have gone wrong in the past. Like you said about people wanting to meet your breasts instead of you. "I was so sure I had messed things up with that erection earlier at the barbeque, so I've been trying to be cool and realistic. I didn't mean to give you the impression that I was immune to your impressive feminine qualities." "Very diplomatic," Angel responds with a smile. "But I do feel like you owe me something though," you say with your own wicked grin. "Yes, what do you want to ask?" "Speaking of not being real, I want to know--" "Yes, they're all natural. All the women in my family are naturally big breasted. I may be the biggest of the lot unless you count my Grandmother, but she's bigger all over," Angel blurts out all at once, cutting you off. "Wow! but exactly--" "38F. I wear a 38F," she interrupts again with an exasperated sigh. You make a timeout sign with your hands, to signal her to be silent for a just a second. When she is you say, "That's amazing and incredibly arousing, but it wasn't my question." Angel blushes bright red and stammers for a moment. You reach up and pat her on the knee. "Worry not," you say. "We've both had our share of embarrassment today." Angel starts to giggle and the tension is released. You both laugh for a minute. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm an idiot," she says. "Not at all. I wasn't going to ask anything nearly as entertaining and stimulating as that though." "What then?" "Speaking of not being real," you begin again, "I want to know how a lady as wonderful as you seem to be ended up moving out here with no man attached. It doesn't seem possible. What's that story?" He face darkens a little, but she answers evenly, "I guess I did say 'straight talk only' didn't I?" You nod, and she continues, "I've had a string of not-so-fulfilling relationships. Unfortunately it has taken me a number of years each time to figure out that each wasn't going where I needed it to. I've wasted a lot of time. "So," she takes a deep breath and exhales it agitatively while gesturing vaguely at her home, "I moved to somewhere completely different to try something new. I'm trying to be different, and I wanted somewhere different to be while it happened." "Trying to be different how? If I may ask..." "I'm trying to listen to my gut more...trust my instincts and allow myself to take risks. I decided I want to spend my life living instead of waiting." "That makes sense," you say. "I'm sorry to hear that you feel you've wasted a lot of time, but 'good for you' for taking steps to change your life." "Thanks." There is a momentary silence, until you can't resist anymore, "38F? Damn..." That brings about a fresh spat of laughter from you both. "I've got another straight question for you then," Angel says. "Okay, shoot." "What did you mean earlier today when you said that I caught you with an erection that I 'in whatever capacity' had inspired." "I got hard because you were so sexy," you try to explain. "No, it's the 'in whatever capacity' that I want to know about. There's more to it than you are telling me, and I though we just agreed to straight talk only," Angel says, pointing a finger at you . "Uhh, I well...uhhh..." "Yeeesss?" Angel presses. "I was...um...having an erotic dream about you when you woke me up." "Really?" "Really. I fell asleep not long after you and I met at the drink table, and you must have made such a strong impression on me that you popped right up when I began to dream." "I thought you weren't that type of guy." "I'm not! I was embarrassed as hell when you woke me up. Wasn't I a gentleman to you though?" "You were, you were," Angel says chuckling. "I'm just giving you a hard time." "You do seem determined to tease me," you say, but you're smiling as well. "You're fun," she says. "You're shy and hard-to-get, but at the same time direct, open, and honest. I'm still not sure you really exist, but I like the person I've spent the day with." With that she leans up and swings her feet out of your lap. "I've got to run to the bathroom. I'll be right back," she says, then gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before she darts out of the room. True to her word, Angel is back in a couple of minutes. You're still smiling and can still feel the hot spot her lips left on your cheek. "I need to do the same," you say. "I'll be right back." "Sure, first door down the hall to the left." You tend to your business and wash your hands. Then you see that there is a laundry hamper under the towel rack that is holding the hand towel you are using. Just for grins you peek under the lid and sure enough there is a giant underwire bra on the top of the stack of clothes inside. You figure you have maybe ten more seconds of noise cover while the toilet tank fills back up, so you quietly reach in and pick it up. Not only is it the biggest bra you've ever seen (clearly marked 38F on the label), but it's also still warm. You quickly drop the bra and chastise yourself for peeking. You have been working so hard to be a perfect gentleman with Angel, and the second you're alone you start fondling her underwear. What kind of deviant are you? You're also now sporting another super-hard erection. You adjust it so as not to be so obvious and make your way back to the sofa. Angel is still in her spot, so you settle back into yours. "So what was it about?" Angel asks. "What?" you ask, confused by the non-sequitor and still on edge from peeking at her bra. "The erotic dream." "Oh, I'd be way too embarrassed to tell you. Besides it was kind of surreal anyway." "Now I definitely want to hear about it. Don't clam up on me now," Angel prods. "Why do you want to know?" "Because it was about me. I feel like I should know how I was dreamed." "Sure, but I don't want to attempt to justify the visions of a horny dreaming mind." "You don't have to justify anything," said Angel, shaking her head. "I just want to hear about it." You notice that her breasts sway when she shakes her head. They still look high and proud, but they're definitely not constrained by a bra anymore. At this point your penis begins to do some of your thinking for you. "How plainly are you willing to speak here?" you ask. "As plainly as you need to," she answers, leaning in. She's obviously expectant, but you pause a moment longer. This just isn't like you. This sort of thing happens in erotic stories, not on the sofas of people you've just met. "I'm still not sure we should be going here," you say. "We have just met." "And spent an entire day getting to know each other. Hasn't it felt natural." "Well, yeah. It's felt great. You make me feel good just by being with you." "Me too. I'm not used to this. Normally nobody gets close to me this quickly, but I'm feeling really connected to you. This isn't like me." You laugh and tell her, "I was just thinking the same thing: this isn't like me." You both laugh for minute and some of the tension evaporates from the air. None has diminished in your underwear however. "Okay," you say, "do you have any fetishes." "Yes, a couple," Angel responds. She looks slightly embarrassed when she says so, but you file that away for the moment. "Explore that later," you tell yourself, "but don't forget it." "Well I have a couple as well, big breasts in particular. I love big breasts. I love looking at them, touching them, tasting them, playing with them, um...rubbing myself between them," you say and pause to gauge her reaction. If anything, Angel seems more intent than ever. She's leaning in and listening raptly. Then she speaks, "Rubbing yourself between them? Say more." "Well, that's what the dream was about." "Rubbing yourself between big breasts? "Yes." "Rubbing yourself between my big breasts? "Yes." "Tell me," she says. Her voice has been getting softer and huskier with each exchange. "Well - it was weird - there was a big crowd or audience, complete with cheerleaders, all cheering me on as I sat naked in that lounge chair by the pool. Then you appeared, knelt between my legs, and unlaced your swimsuit. "Your breasts spilled out and grew even bigger. Two women dressed like concert roadies appeared and rubbed oil all over them. They were just so huge and soft looking all glistening with oil. You wrapped them around my erection and started to rub me between them. You said that you wanted me to." "Wanted you to do what?" "To do what I was doing. To rub myself between your breasts." "Say it." "Tit-fuck you." "Yes," she whispers. "I was tit-fucking your giant breasts, and you wanted me to." "Yes," she whispers again almost urgently. "Then you really were there, and I startled awake with a big hard-on and some explaining to do," you conclude. You feel flushed, and you both blink a few times as if coming out of a reverie. Then you both sit back as if the extra distance could lessen the electric charge that now passes between you. "That's pretty intense for just having met someone," Angel says. "I was surprised as well," you offer, "but that's why I was so aroused when you sat down." "Like you are now?" Angel asks and indicates the bulge in your trousers. "Yes," you say, seeing no reason to conceal it anymore. Your relax and let the front of your trousers stretch outward to accommodate your swollen penis. "And you perhaps?" you ask spotting something amazing. Angel follows gesture, and is apparently not surprised to see that she has twin peaks in the front of her tee-shirt. Her nipples are hard, swollen, and obvious. They also each look to be the size of a gumdrop. "Well, you asked if I had any fetishes." "Yes," you say, glad that she brought it back up. "Well...I like.. ... I like dirty talking." "Is that so?" "Definitely," she smiles. "You like tit-fucking, and I like saying and hearing 'tit fucking'." "So you're turned on too?" "Oh yeah," she says. "I took my bra off when I went to the bathroom earlier, just to get more comfortable. My breasts have been tied up all day, and I wanted to let them swing. After that brief description of your dream though, my nipples are hard as rocks." "I know, I saw your bra in your clothes hamper, and I can definitely see your nipples now." "You peeked in the clothes hamper?" "Yeah. I don't know why, but I couldn't resist. Are you mad?" "No, it's just interesting. I would have done the same thing," she says and grins. "What was the deal with the cheerleaders and the audience?" "Don't know, it was just surreal." "Do you get off on having sex in public or with people watching." "Not that I know of. I think it was just comedy in the background of what we were doing. That and maybe my brain accounted for the noise of the barbeque by inventing that scene. After the tit-fucking started--" "No! Say it right. It was me. You were doing it to me." "Okay," you say, getting the idea. "After I started tit-fucking you, the cheerleaders took off their cloths and started having oral sex." "With the crowd?" Angel asks. She's breathing a bit heavier now. You can see her breasts swelling and heaving slightly in her tight shirt. "No, with each other. They started licking each other's pussies." A soft moan escapes Angels lips at this point. "What else?" "I could feel myself building and you said you wanted me to cum, but then I woke up." "You have quite an active imagination on the spur of the moment," Angel pants. "And you seem quite worked up by the telling!" you say. "I am. I'm very turned on. This is really not like me, but I'm seriously hot right now. You?" "Yes, I'm really hard, and I can feel myself getting a little wet. Your nipples look incredible." "Thank you. They're aching. It sounds like you're aching too." "Swollen and aching, and getting wetter." "My nipples are swollen and aching like your cock -- they feel wanton -- they're aching to be sucked -- I feel wet too -- my pussy -- I feel like I have a fire building in my pussy -- I feel soaked and molten -- dripping fire between my thighs." Damn! the lady is good. This is all happening so fast. Right now your rational mind is trying desperately shout down your massive hard-on which is positively screaming "GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!" and trying to think for you. Angel is squeezing her thighs together forcefully and has her eyes locked on the bulge in your trousers. Her breath is coming more and more raggedly, which only sends tremors through her huge breasts as she inhales and exhales. "What do you think we should do?" Angel asks meaningfully. "Life is tough," you tell your penis. "All things come to he who waits, and now is the time to wait." "I think we should call it an evening before we go any further," you tell her. "What?" Angel blurts. She seems to deflate a little. For emphasis you grip your erection through your trousers. "There is nothing in the world I want to do right now more than have what I'm sure would be mind-blowing carnal adventures with you. I don't know that I've ever been so hot for anyone in my life. I keep waiting to wake up from what I'm sure is the best fantasy I've ever had. "But I think we should stop for now. I've had the best first date of my life with the most interesting, exotic, and absolutely sexy lady I've ever met; and I don't want to wreck what feels like it could turn out to be a really good thing by moving too fast...especially if we're both saying 'this isn't like me'. "As much as I want to keep going. I don't want to give either one of us a reason to regret what we've shared so far, not that that's what would happen, but I don't want to take anything for granted. Besides, if it's this hot now, it will keep until another day. "Please don't think I don't want to. Please don't think I don't want you... ... and please let me see you again -- soon. I really want to see where this goes." Angel smiles. Then there is the longest pause of your life before she says, "Accepted." You swap the necessary info, and gather your shoes. As you check your effects to make sure you have everything -- keys, wallet, watch -- you ask, "May I call you tomorrow?" Shallow Thoughts Deep Subjects "You better," Angel says. "I will," you affirm. "Don't doubt that for a second." "I don't," she says, and leans in to kiss you. You're lips meet and melt into each other. You can feel her massive breasts pillow into your chest. Her hard nipples poke you through your shirt. In response, you press your seemingly permanent erection against her. She presses back hard against you, reading your intent and quick to respond. Your tongues dance around each other for many minutes. Finally you both have to pause to draw breath. "You really are a strange man," she says as she walks you to the door. "Tomorrow?" "Tomorrow," she agrees. "Sweet dreams." "I don't think I've stopped since I met you," you say as her door closes. ***** You expect to sleep fitfully if at all, and only after an emergency masturbation session to relieve all the tension. Oddly enough you feel a great sense of accomplishment and personal peace, so neither ends of up happening. You fall immediately into a deep and satisfying sleep when you get home and get undressed. Even the little guy finally relaxes for the night, confident that he will eventually get what he wants. What you both want, undeniably, is Angel. The dreams are very sweet. ***** Ahhh... Sunday. It's 11 AM and you have the phone in hand. "Hello?" answers Angel in her now familiar musical voice. "Hi, it's me. Did I catch you at a bad time?" "Good morning! No, I actually just got back from the gym and finished a shower." "That's funny, so did I." "Odd... Anyway, I was hoping it was you when the phone rang. How are you doing this morning with what we shared last night?" "A little embarrassed at how quickly we got heated up, honestly," you answer, "but no regrets at all." "I'm sincerely relieved to hear that," Angel responds, and you can hear it in her voice. "I second-guessed myself nearly to death after you left last night. I was sure you were driving home wondering what kind of horny weirdo you had just escaped." "Nothing of the kind...besides, I thought I was the horny weirdo." Angel laughs. You are beginning to get seriously addicted to that laugh. "Well," she says, "how about you let the lady treat the gentleman to lunch today." "That sounds great, but I have one condition." "What would that be?" "Let me help you around your new home today. I can hang curtains, change hardware and fixtures, put up pictures, anything you want. I think it's time you start filling your space." "Deal! Come on over." You pack a few tools and do just that. ***** It's another excellent day with the busty diva, you must say. It is also most certainly enhanced by the cropped tee-shirt and little grey shorts she's wearing when you show up to help around the house. Lunch is also fantastic – largely because you misunderstood Angel's intent to "treat you". She cooks for you, and you find out that it's something she is really good at. After lunch, you succeed in all manner of manly home improvement and decorating tasks. As a final task for the day Angel hangs and rewires a ceiling fan, and you find out that electrical work is something else she's good at. Meanwhile you have the time of your life just holding the step ladder for her and staring up at her bare stomach while she stretches overhead. The bottom of her tee-shirt is pushed so far away from her body by the depth of her breasts that it teases you with an almost unimpeded view of the undersides of them. Almost that is...you never can actually see any of their curvature. "Enjoying the view?" she asks. "Definitely," you reply unashamedly. "I'd like to flatter myself by thinking that you wore that shirt for my enjoyment as well as your comfort." "You would be correct," she smiles down at you. "Don't worry though," you continue. "I can't really see anything other than your stomach." "Well that's disappointing," Angel says. She finishes tightening the third thumbscrew on the last glass globe on the fan's light and drops her arms. She shakes her arms a little to get the blood moving back through them, then reaches up her back under her shirt. She unhooks her bra, and then does that magical thing women know how to do that causes a white underwire bra to be produced out of the arm of her tee-shirt. You feel like you should clap and say, "Ta-daaaa!", but you're quickly rendered speechless and immobile when she drapes the newly removed lacy undergarment on your head. She takes the light bulb out of your hand and stretches back up to install it in the light she just finished assembling. Without the support of her bra, her heavy breasts hang just enough that you can just barely see the undersides of the two globes beneath the edge of her shirt when her arms are over her head like that. "Better?" she asks without looking at you. "Much!" you say, and when you notice that the light bulb is secure, you lean in and plant a kiss on her tight belly. Angel squeals and nearly topples off the step ladder. You catch her and put two more kisses on top of the first. She giggles, and you lift her down to the floor with a significant amount of jiggling involved. "You look incredibly silly with that," she says, looking at the bra on your head. You remove the bra, inhale the fragrance of her skin from it, and say, "And you look incredibly sexy without it." Angel raises her arms over her head, crosses her wrists, and places her palms together. This lifts her shirt enough to bare the bottom two inches of her free-swinging rack. She give a little shimmy, which makes everything sway amazingly and says, "Why thank you. I do my breast." You both laugh at the pun, and then fall slowly silent. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her toward you. Her arms drop naturally over your shoulders, and her hands pull your head toward her. You stop momentarily to descend into her deep brown eyes and then kiss her fully and softly on the lips. Your bodies mold together as you hold each other and kiss for many seconds. Then Angel takes your head, bends it down, and presses your face into her fabric covered bosom. You feel the softness of her envelope your face and breathe in the scent of her body. She rubs you in her cleavage for a few seconds and then lets you up. "I'll have to introduce you to them properly sometime soon," she says. "But not today?" you ask. "Not today," she answers. "I believe you're right for wanting to take it a little cautiously." You nod, and she continues, "I have had another wonderful day though, and I can say that the time spent has helped me in several ways." You're still holding her to you and enjoying the warmth of her body next to yours. You can see that her nipples are hard again and protruding proudly. "In what ways?" you ask. "Well, I feel like my instincts are slowly being proved true. Every moment I spend with you only makes me want to spend more time with you. You're proving to be exactly what you appear to be, and I really like that. "You helped a lot today too, and I'm really grateful for that. My home is starting to feel a lot more like me. I'm also getting a real thrill that we're doing it together. What a way to spend a second date! What do you think?" "I'm feeling the same way. It still isn't like me to feel this connected to someone after such a short period of time, but it feels so natural that I'm just not going to worry about it. The more time I spend with you, the more fascinated I am with you. It's like you said, I can't seem to get enough." Angel reaches down and places a hand on the front of your jeans. Her hand fits perfectly on the steel rod that's threatening to rip out the front of them. She gives you a slight caress and says, "We don't even know what 'enough' is yet, but I bet it will be fun finding out." You lock your lips on hers again and feel her tease your zipper down. She snakes a hand inside and grips your hard-on through your underwear. You feel yourself pulse in her hand. You reach a hand down her back and slide it inside the bottom edge of her little grey shorts to caress her ass. You wish you had both hands there, but you're still holding her bra in the other. Her wonderfully round backside is firm and pliant to your touch. You don't feel underwear at all, but as you start to consider that idea Angel whispers. "I want you. I can't explain it in any logical way, but you just feel right. Too fast or not -- I crave this cock. I almost scares me how much I want you to fuck me." "I want it as much as you do. I can't stop thinking about you and desiring you," you say in answer. "The way you feel, the way you smell, the way you taste – it almost overpowers me. I'm becoming completely obsessed with you." She smiles and jokes, "Its just the gravitational pull of my tits. You'll never escape." "I'm definitely obsessed with your tits," you smile back. "I'd never want to escape." "I hate to be terribly modern and offensive," Angel says, "but you are completely healthy...in all regards...aren't you?" "Good question," you say. "I'm not offended that you ask at all. I've got 100% clean blood, skin, everything...no viruses, no rashes, no nothing. You?" "The same. Sorry, but I felt I should ask since I have a handful of you!" "And I have a handful of you as well!" "Let's give it a little more time, but I'm not sure I can wait much longer," she says giving you a final squeeze and withdrawing her hand. She zips you up as you give her wonderful ass a final squeeze of your own. "Now," Angel announces, breaking the embrace, "lets have the leftovers of lunch and call it a day. We both have to work tomorrow whether we like it or not." "They wouldn't have to pay us for it if it was fun," you say while proffering her bra back to her. "Keep it," she says, waving your offer away. "Keep it and think of me this week if we don't get to see each other very much." ***** Unfortunately, that's exactly what happens. She's absolutely slammed busy with the end of the fiscal quarter and you are struggling under your own long hours. You email a couple of times a day and talk every night, but the only time you actually see Angel that week is Thursday for lunch. You meet her at the Thai restaurant for another sinus clearing exercise and a deep kiss in the parking lot that doesn't last nearly long enough. What you find is that you've rapidly come to the conclusion that you can't be without her. As unlikely as it seems after knowing her for less than a week, it hurts to be away from her. From your nightly phone conversations it appears that she feels the same way. She gets home late Thursday night and calls. It goes like this: "Hello?" "Hi baby." "Hello my Angel. How was the financial salt mine today." "It was like any other mine -- a hole. Lets not talk about it." "Sure." "Thanks for lunch today." "You're very welcome. I was just happy to get to see you. I can't believe how much I miss you." "I miss you terribly. I don't know what to say...I'm completely infatuated with you." "I don't mind a bit. The feeling is more than mutual!" "Do you still have my bra?" "Of course, what else would I have done with it? I've been thinking shallow thoughts about deep subjects while I hold it. It still smells like you." "You haven't been doing anything naughty with it have you?" "Not yet...do you think I should?" "I don't know, what did you have in mind?" "Nothing in particular, but I have decided that I would fit just right between your breasts." "Is that so? What makes you think you'll get the chance?" "I'm just dreaming, that's all. Only this time there were no cheerleaders." "You just wait. Some dreams come true." "We'll see....Thanks for the kiss today too." "Mmmm...my pleasure." "It was good to taste you again." "You should do more of it...mmm." "I plan to. You'll just have to point me to where you think you are most delicious." "Mmmm...let's just say that my finger is pointing the way there...right now." "Is that what's going on there?" "Uhh-huhnnn...I'm stroking my pussy right now." "That's rather coincidental." "Ahhh...how do you mean?" "I'm...mmm...stroking my cock right now." "Ohhh...now I'm pouting." "Why my Angel?" "Because you shouldn't have to do that." "Why is...uhhnn...that?" "Because I've just noticed that there's a space just its size right between my tits." "You're a wicked lady, you know that?" "I'm your wicked lady...and my pussy is aching for you." "I'm aching to fill you." "I know that you would, but I want you to taste me first. I want you to lick my hot pussy. I want you to suck on my hard clit. I want your lips to take me to heaven and your tongue to make me burn like hell. I want to cum all over your face. I want to soak you with my juices." "I'm more than willing my Angel. I'll lick your pussy until you beg me to stop. I'll suck your nipples until you cum just from that. I'll tongue your clit until you burst all over my face. I want it. I want you." "You promise?" "I promise." "Tomorrow?" "Tomorrow." "My place?" "Your place. At six?" "Six it is." "Good night my Angel." "Good night my lover." ***** Ahhh... Friday. It's the longest farkin' day of the week...especially when you have what promises to be a really hot date at the end of it. After lunch and a quick conversation with Angel during which you are instructed to pick up a loaf of French bread on the way over to her place, it seems like your penis pops up every ten minutes and asks, "Are we there yet?" Finally at 5:59 you take the keys out of the ignition, pick up the carefully wrapped loaf of bread, and before getting out of your car, look down and say, "Yes, we're here. Now don't screw this up for me?" At 6:00 on the dot, you ring the doorbell. Angel answers the door dressed in... ... ...nothing terribly impressive at all. In fact she's wearing jeans and a sleeveless tee-shirt not unlike she wore on your first date. You don't know what you were expecting -- maybe that she'd answer the door in a thong and a smile, or perhaps chocolate sauce and nothing else -- but what you get is Angel in her normal, natural, beautiful state. After a moment you wonder if there could have been any improvement after all. "Hi! you're right on time!" she bubbles and quickly bounces a soft kiss off your surprised face. She spots your expectant hard-on and says, "Happy to see me?" "No it's just a French loaf," you say, brandishing the wrapped bread. "But yes I am very happy to see you," you say. Suddenly you can't stop smiling. "Smart ass!" Angel laughs. She takes the bread and pays you with another kiss. This one lasts a little longer. "I've been waiting for you. Come in." You catch the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. "What are we having?" "Broiled tilapia in white wine sauce, wild rice, and almond seasoned green beans." "Seriously?" "Yes, I know it sounds like some weird kind of Addams Family combination of foods, but wait until you taste it." "No, that's not what I meant. I thought was really hard to cook tilapia." Angel glides up to you and strokes the bulge in the front of your trousers. "Nope, the only one thing hard in the kitchen right now...is you." "Ooooh," you exhale. "I see the teasing has begun." "Who's teasing?" Angel winks. "I'm just impatient to have dessert before the meal. Thankfully we're having light fare." "You said 'almond seasoned' green beans?" "That's right," Angel responds, confused that you had no reaction to her innuendo. "You wouldn't be smuggling a couple of extra almonds in your bra would you?" you grin and brush the backs of your fingers across the erect nipples you just spotted straining against her shirt. Angels echoes your, "Ooooh...sorry, mmm...but it would be impossible for me to be smuggling anything in my bra." "Not enough room?" you ask. You're grinning from ear to ear from having just touched the most magnificent nipples in the known world, albeit though a shirt. "No, I'm just not wearing one." Your penis ratchets up another notch and your trousers stretch audibly. Angel starts in surprise and exclaims, "What angry beast are you smuggling in your underwear?" "Not a thing," you continue to grin. "I'm not wearing any underwear." "Nevertheless, it sounds like it wants out." "It wants you. I want you," you say and pull her close. Angel molds as much of her body against you as possible and snakes her tongue into your mouth. "I can't believe how much I missed you. It's crazy," she says when you both pause to draw breath. "I know. I'm falling hard for you, and I'm falling fast. It scares the hell out of me. I can honestly say though, it's not the sex, or the promise of sex to be more accurate. I just can't seem to be away from you. I have this need to be near you." "Yeah...I want to be reckless, but a heart is so difficult to repair once you let it get broken. It scares me too. I feel like I should be careful...but I don't want to. Not with you." "We better eat, my Angel." "My thoughts exactly. You had better eat your Angel." "I mean dinner. You worked hard to make a wonderful meal, and I want to appreciate it with you." "That is why I'm falling for you. You want to be good to me. I matter, and you want to show me that." "That's also not to say that I don't want to taste as much of you as possible as soon as possible," you follow. "I want you to want to be good to me in that way too," she breaths in your ear. Her warm breath sends electric pulses down your spine and straight up your attentive penis. "I promise," you affirm and hug her close. "Now let's have dinner." ***** Dinner is exquisite. You knew that it would be, but it doesn't seem to finish quickly enough. The sexual tension pouring out of your body mingles with the same flowing from Angel. It's not thirty minutes and several aborted conversations later that your forks lie forgotten and you're once again on the sofa locked lip to lip, tongue to tongue, bodies molded to each other. You kiss your way around Angel's face and capture her earlobe between your lips. You gently flick your tongue over it and whisper how beautiful she is into her ear. She sighs and gives a soft questioning groan as you kiss your way down her neck. Angel begins unbuttoning your shirt as you tickle your tongue across her collar bone and into the hollow of her throat. She tugs your shirt-tail out of your trousers and rips the last two buttons completely off in her haste to get it off you. You keep your lips fastened on Angel's neck and shrug off your shirt. Your hands find her enormous breasts and begin to knead them through her tee-shirt as her hands caress the contours of your now bare chest. You feel her nipples as hard stones under your palms and begin to taste her excitement in the sweat that lightly forms on her neck. Angel moans loudly as her nipples bump and stutter across your palms and the backs of your fingers. Her fingernails rake randomly up your back and leave little burning trails in their path as she brings her hands up to take your face and press it to her own. You kiss like mad people for several minutes as you continue to run your fingertips over the contours of her massive chest. At last you sit back from each other for a moment to breathe. To say that it's intense would be a ridiculous understatement. Angel's huge breasts are heaving, and her knotted nipples show plainly against the thin fabric. Your trousers are completely tented, and you can't even tell where your shirt ended up. Angel recovers first. She firmly but irresistibly forces you over onto your back and holds you down by the shoulders. "I burn," is all she says. She lifts her hands from your shoulders and grasps the neck of her shirt. At this point you're expecting her to pull it over her head and free the twin globes that you have dying to see since you met her.