Bigger is Better

[PrinessAnna]

Bigger is Better
In Praise of Hefty Men
​

My friends, at least those very select few who I let into the secrets of my sex-life, are usually shocked or bemused by my predilection for hefty men. Being pretty small myself (5'3 and a little over 7 stone) and not unattractive, I guess they assume I would be into guys who fit the cultural stereotype of "good looking." But give me the choice between some sporty hunk with washboard abs and a chunky, even fat guy, I know I'll always favour the latter. If he's older all the better--but that's another story and another kink altogether.

My first experience with a seriously big guy was when I had just turned 18. It was the summer between school and university and some friends and I went away to a town on the south coast that's known for its nightlife. The plan was to hit the clubs and go wild and make some memories to take with us to university. What actually happened was to completely change my attitude to sex and the way I chose my partners.

We started drinking early in the afternoon and hooked up with a group of guys who were down from Manchester on a stag weekend. There were eight of them and eleven of us and they ranged in age from early twenties to late forties. They were a nice enough bunch, unthreatening and just looking, like us, for a fun time. So we were happy to let them ply us with cocktails and flirt as only guys on a weekend away from home can.

By the time we left the pub and hit the club we were all pretty pissed. A couple of my mates had already paired up with two of the lads and were snogging them in one of the booths and the others were on the floor dancing. I was trying hard not to fall asleep from all the drinks I'd had and was sitting at a table squeezed in between two of the older guys. One was in his mid-thirties and was very full of himself - he was drunkenly telling me how much he earned as an insurance salesman and about how fantastic his new BMW was - while I was busy trying to keep his hands from getting under my skirt.

The other was quieter and thankfully non-handsy. He was in his late thirties and I actually felt a bit sorry for him because he was the brunt of the guys' banter because he was a bit of a fatty. Throughout the afternoon they'd been ragging him about his size and while he seemed used to it and played along I could tell it embarrassed him to be made fun of in front of a group of young females.

When Mr BMW staggered off to the bathroom I took the opportunity to shout over the music to Lee (the big quiet one) to come and dance with me.

He shook his head and said, "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not sure I'd even fit on the dancefloor and I'm drunk enough that I might fall over and crush you."

I took this as a sort of challenge and insisted he join me, "You shouldn't be so down on yourself, Lee, I bet you're a great dancer." I said, pulling him to this feet, "Plus you'll be saving me from your boring mate's life story."

Lee laughed at this, "Yeah, he does go on a bit. We call him the Great Bullshitter back home. His BMW is leased and he can barely pay his mortgage, but he still thinks he's Alan Sugar."

Lee, like a lot of big guys, was actually quite a graceful mover and I had my hands on his broad shoulders as I swayed in a sort of drunken lambada style. I noticed that some of the blokes who were dancing with my mates had clocked us and were obviously making jokes about the obvious size imbalance between us. This made me angry and determined that Lee shouldn't feel embarrassed by his friend's stupidity.

I started dancing closer, feeling his chubby tummy pressing against my naked torso (I was wearing a skimpy crop-top and a mini-skirt). I guess the booze made me daring, and I turned and started twerking on his crotch. I heard him give out a grunt of pleasure as I ground my ass against him and his hands moved to my hips and drew me in closer.

When the music grew slower and I turned to face him he was flushed but seemingly feeling more confident. His big arms enfolded me and drew me close to him and I let his big leg move between mine until I was practically dry-humping it and my skirt had ridden up to expose a skimpy thong.

But after a little while he suddenly pulled away and looked intently at me.

"Hey - this isn't some stupid joke is it? Has someone dared you to make out with the fat bloke?"

"Shit," I said, feeling angry, "I'd never do that, that's just fucking sick."

"Well it's happened before," he said, looking miserable, "My mates seem to think it's funny getting me all steamed up and then revealing it's all been a set-up."

"Well fuck your mates!" I said and leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth. His response was immediate. I felt his big hands clasp my ass and lift me up to the kiss. I wrapped my legs around his waist and snaked my tongue down his throat. I so hoped his so-called friends were watching this.

I was breathless when we broke the kiss and he looked into my eyes and said "I dunno about fuck my mates - I'd rather fuck you Anna."

My head was spinning with the alcohol and the intensity of the situation and I must have looked shocked for a moment because Lee added almost pathetically, "I've got my own room back at the hotel."

The thought of him all alone in that room while his mates got off with my friends made my mind up. "Oh screw it," I said still clinging on to him, "Let's go."

I ignored the dumbass comments from my girlfriends when I went to fetch my bag from the table and I really enjoyed the gob-smacked looks of the guys as they realized Lee had copped off with me.

He was waiting outside the club with a cab and it wasn't long before we were in his hotel room (much nicer than the one I was sharing with two of my friends) and I was fumbling with his trouser-fastenings.

"Oh my God, this is really happening!" Lee gasped as I finally got his trousers round his ankles.

"Stop being surprised and let me see your cock" I giggled drunkenly as I pulled down his boxers to reveal his stumpy member. What I didn't realize at the time was that his fatness hid the real size of his cock because when I took him in my mouth and he started to grow hard I found it was really quite a decent size. It felt strange but nice when my nose pressed against the cushiony flesh of his pubic mound, like nuzzling into a pillow rather than bumping against a hard bony wall, and when I reached up and started squeezing his bum I found I really liked the soft, springy sensation of what he said himself after was his "fat ass".

But all this was nothing to what I felt when he lifted me up in his arms and put me on the bed. I was still so drunk I was laughing and giggling as he spread my legs and pressed his throbbing cock between my pussy lips, but I gasped out loud as I felt him push it inside me and adjust his body so he could start to fuck me properly.

What happened was that I felt his weight concentrated between my thighs. He had a 48 inch waist (I checked his pants later!) as compared to my 20 inches and as he moved between my legs and lowered himself to enter me, I felt my thighs being forced apart by the pressure. I wasn't so much being stretched as split apart.

Actually the feeling of his body pressing down on me was more intense than the feeling I was getting from his cock. I thought at first there was something wrong with this, surely I should be moaning on his cock, not getting turned on by his body weight, but, what the hell, it felt good no matter what.

The dull ache in my thighs as he stopped supporting himself on his hands and moved them under me to grab my ass as he burrowed his cock deep in my pussy turned into a grinding pain. His full 22 stones were bearing down on me and forcing my thighs wider and wider - I thought fleetingly this must be what giving birth feels like - and my arms were flailing wildly as I shivered and shook under him. But I never once thought this was hurting me. Instead the pain was turning me on, the ache in my thighs translating itself into an profoundly erotic response.

Quicker than I'd ever done before I was cumming like crazy under Lee's sweating body. With my legs in the air and his weight on my gut I could barely breath and this seemed to make my orgasm even more intense. I shrieked and quivered and pounded his back with my fists until he gave an animal grunt and came.

Afterwards I told him how amazing it had felt and he told me he'd been worried his weight might be a problem for me. I assured him it wasn't and to prove it I let him fuck my ass in a prone position so I could take his weight in a different position. That felt amazing too, being trapped underneath him made me feel vulnerable yet cozy - the softness of his fat rolls were a definite benefit.

Well, that's how I became a chubby-chaser or fat-freak or whatever else term you wanna find for it. I'd be keen to hear from other girls who agree with me that Bigger is Better and I would finish by saying to other girls out there who might find what I've written gross or unbelievable: don't knock it until you've tried it!

​

 

[SussexGuy47]

Bigger is Better
In Praise of Hefty Men
​

My friends, at least those very select few who I let into the secrets of my sex-life, are usually shocked or bemused by my predilection for hefty men. Being pretty small myself (5'3 and a little over 7 stone) and not unattractive, I guess they assume I would be into guys who fit the cultural stereotype of "good looking." But give me the choice between some sporty hunk with washboard abs and a chunky, even fat guy, I know I'll always favour the latter. If he's olderall the better--but that's another story and another kink altogether.

My first experience with a seriously big guy was when I was 17. It was the summer between school and university and some friends and I went away to a town on the south coast that's known for its nightlife. The plan was to hit the clubs and go wild and make some memories to take with us to university. What actually happened was to completely change my attitude to sex and the way I chose my partners.

We started drinking early in the afternoon and hooked up with a group of guys who were down from Manchester on a stag weekend. There were eight of them and eleven of us and they ranged in age from early twenties to late forties. They were a nice enough bunch, unthreatening and just looking, like us, for a fun time. So we were happy to let them ply us with cocktails and flirt as only guys on a weekend away from home can.

By the time we left the pub and hit the club we were all pretty pissed. A couple of my mates had already paired up with two of the lads and were snogging them in one of the booths and the others were on the floor dancing. I was trying hard not to fall asleep from all the drinks I'd had and was sitting at a table squeezed in between two of the older guys. One was in his mid-thirties and was very full of himself - he was drunkenly telling me how much he earned as an insurance salesman and about how fantastic his new BMW was - while I was busy trying to keep his hands from getting under my skirt.

The other was quieter and thankfully non-handsy. He was in his late thirties and I actually felt a bit sorry for him because he was the brunt of the guys' banter because he was a bit of a fatty. Throughout the afternoon they'd been ragging him about his size and while he seemed used to it and played along I could tell it embarrassed him to be made fun of in front of a group of young females.

When Mr BMW staggered off to the bathroom I took the opportunity to shout over the music to Lee (the big quiet one) to come and dance with me.

He shook his head and said, "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not sure I'd even fit on the dancefloor and I'm drunk enough that I might fall over and crush you."

I took this as a sort of challenge and insisted he join me, "You shouldn't be so down on yourself, Lee, I bet you're a great dancer." I said, pulling him to this feet, "Plus you'll be saving me from your boring mate's life story."

Lee laughed at this, "Yeah, he does go on a bit. We call him the Great Bullshitter back home. His BMW is leased and he can barely pay his mortgage, but he still thinks he's Alan Sugar."

Lee, like a lot of big guys, was actually quite a graceful mover and I had my hands on his broad shoulders as I swayed in a sort of drunken lambada style. I noticed that some of the blokes who were dancing with my mates had clocked us and were obviously making jokes about the obvious size imbalance between us. This made me angry and determined that Lee shouldn't feel embarrassed by his friend's stupidity.

I started dancing closer, feeling his chubby tummy pressing against my naked torso (I was wearing a skimpy crop-top and a mini-skirt). I guess the booze made me daring, and I turned and started twerking on his crotch. I heard him give out a grunt of pleasure as I ground my ass against him and his hands moved to my hips and drew me in closer.

When the music grew slower and I turned to face him he was flushed but seemingly feeling more confident. His big arms enfolded me and drew me close to him and I let his big leg move between mine until I was practically dry-humping it and my skirt had ridden up to expose a skimpy thong.

But after a little while he suddenly pulled away and looked intently at me.

"Hey - this isn't some stupid joke is it? Has someone dared you to make out with the fat bloke?"

"Shit," I said, feeling angry, "I'd never do that, that's just fucking sick."

"Well it's happened before," he said, looking miserable, "My mates seem to think it's funny getting me all steamed up and then revealing it's all been a set-up."

"Well fuck your mates!" I said and leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth. His response was immediate. I felt his big hands clasp my ass and lift me up to the kiss. I wrapped my legs around his waist and snaked my tongue down his throat. I so hoped his so-called friends were watching this.

I was breathless when we broke the kiss and he looked into my eyes and said "I dunno about fuck my mates - I'd rather fuck you Anna."

My head was spinning with the alcohol and the intensity of the situation and I must have looked shocked for a moment because Lee added almost pathetically, "I've got my own room back at the hotel."

The thought of him all alone in that room while his mates got off with my friends made my mind up. "Oh screw it," I said still clinging on to him, "Let's go."

I ignored the dumbass comments from my girlfriends when I went to fetch my bag from the table and I really enjoyed the gob-smacked looks of the guys as they realized Lee had copped off with me.

He was waiting outside the club with a cab and it wasn't long before we were in his hotel room (much nicer than the one I was sharing with two of my friends) and I was fumbling with his trouser-fastenings.

"Oh my God, this is really happening!" Lee gasped as I finally got his trousers round his ankles.

"Stop being surprised and let me see your cock" I giggled drunkenly as I pulled down his boxers to reveal his stumpy member. What I didn't realize at the time was that his fatness hid the real size of his cock because when I took him in my mouth and he started to grow hard I found it was really quite a decent size. It felt strange but nice when my nose pressed against the cushiony flesh of his pubic mound, like nuzzling into a pillow rather than bumping against a hard bony wall, and when I reached up and started squeezing his bum I found I really liked the soft, springy sensation of what he said himself after was his "fat ass".

But all this was nothing to what I felt when he lifted me up in his arms and put me on the bed. I was still so drunk I was laughing and giggling as he spread my legs and pressed his throbbing cock between my pussy lips, but I gasped out loud as I felt him push it inside me and adjust his body so he could start to fuck me properly.

What happened was that I felt his weight concentrated between my thighs. He had a 48 inch waist (I checked his pants later!) as compared to my 20 inches and as he moved between my legs and lowered himself to enter me, I felt my thighs being forced apart by the pressure. I wasn't so much being stretched as split apart.

Actually the feeling of his body pressing down on me was more intense than the feeling I was getting from his cock. I thought at first there was something wrong with this, surely I should be moaning on his cock, not getting turned on by his body weight, but, what the hell, it felt good no matter what.

The dull ache in my thighs as he stopped supporting himself on his hands and moved them under me to grab my ass as he burrowed his cock deep in my pussy turned into a grinding pain. His full 22 stones were bearing down on me and forcing my thighs wider and wider - I thought fleetingly this must be what giving birth feels like - and my arms were flailing wildly as I shivered and shook under him. But I never once thought this was hurting me. Instead the pain was turning me on, the ache in my thighs translating itself into an profoundly erotic response.

Quicker than I'd ever done before I was cumming like crazy under Lee's sweating body. With my legs in the air and his weight on my gut I could barely breath and this seemed to make my orgasm even more intense. I shrieked and quivered and pounded his back with my fists until he gave an animal grunt and came.

Afterwards I told him how amazing it had felt and he told me he'd been worried his weight might be a problem for me. I assured him it wasn't and to prove it I let him fuck my ass in a prone position so I could take his weight in a different position. That felt amazing too, being trapped underneath him made me feel vulnerable yet cozy - the softness of his fat rolls were a definite benefit.

Well, that's how I became a chubby-chaser or fat-freak or whatever else term you wanna find for it. I'd be keen to hear from other girls who agree with me that Bigger is Better and I would finish by saying to other girls out there who might find what I've written gross or unbelievable: don't knock it until you've tried it!

View attachment 149564​

Ide
LOVE to give you an Experience similar.....
I've inboxed you..

 

[hugedirection]

Great story. Not what I was expecting when I first started reading but you certainly have the knack for writing!

 

[loveithard]

Bigger is Better
In Praise of Hefty Men
​

My friends, at least those very select few who I let into the secrets of my sex-life, are usually shocked or bemused by my predilection for hefty men. Being pretty small myself (5'3 and a little over 7 stone) and not unattractive, I guess they assume I would be into guys who fit the cultural stereotype of "good looking." But give me the choice between some sporty hunk with washboard abs and a chunky, even fat guy, I know I'll always favour the latter. If he's older all the better--but that's another story and another kink altogether.

My first experience with a seriously big guy was when I had just turned 18. It was the summer between school and university and some friends and I went away to a town on the south coast that's known for its nightlife. The plan was to hit the clubs and go wild and make some memories to take with us to university. What actually happened was to completely change my attitude to sex and the way I chose my partners.

We started drinking early in the afternoon and hooked up with a group of guys who were down from Manchester on a stag weekend. There were eight of them and eleven of us and they ranged in age from early twenties to late forties. They were a nice enough bunch, unthreatening and just looking, like us, for a fun time. So we were happy to let them ply us with cocktails and flirt as only guys on a weekend away from home can.

By the time we left the pub and hit the club we were all pretty pissed. A couple of my mates had already paired up with two of the lads and were snogging them in one of the booths and the others were on the floor dancing. I was trying hard not to fall asleep from all the drinks I'd had and was sitting at a table squeezed in between two of the older guys. One was in his mid-thirties and was very full of himself - he was drunkenly telling me how much he earned as an insurance salesman and about how fantastic his new BMW was - while I was busy trying to keep his hands from getting under my skirt.

The other was quieter and thankfully non-handsy. He was in his late thirties and I actually felt a bit sorry for him because he was the brunt of the guys' banter because he was a bit of a fatty. Throughout the afternoon they'd been ragging him about his size and while he seemed used to it and played along I could tell it embarrassed him to be made fun of in front of a group of young females.

When Mr BMW staggered off to the bathroom I took the opportunity to shout over the music to Lee (the big quiet one) to come and dance with me.

He shook his head and said, "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not sure I'd even fit on the dancefloor and I'm drunk enough that I might fall over and crush you."

I took this as a sort of challenge and insisted he join me, "You shouldn't be so down on yourself, Lee, I bet you're a great dancer." I said, pulling him to this feet, "Plus you'll be saving me from your boring mate's life story."

Lee laughed at this, "Yeah, he does go on a bit. We call him the Great Bullshitter back home. His BMW is leased and he can barely pay his mortgage, but he still thinks he's Alan Sugar."

Lee, like a lot of big guys, was actually quite a graceful mover and I had my hands on his broad shoulders as I swayed in a sort of drunken lambada style. I noticed that some of the blokes who were dancing with my mates had clocked us and were obviously making jokes about the obvious size imbalance between us. This made me angry and determined that Lee shouldn't feel embarrassed by his friend's stupidity.

I started dancing closer, feeling his chubby tummy pressing against my naked torso (I was wearing a skimpy crop-top and a mini-skirt). I guess the booze made me daring, and I turned and started twerking on his crotch. I heard him give out a grunt of pleasure as I ground my ass against him and his hands moved to my hips and drew me in closer.

When the music grew slower and I turned to face him he was flushed but seemingly feeling more confident. His big arms enfolded me and drew me close to him and I let his big leg move between mine until I was practically dry-humping it and my skirt had ridden up to expose a skimpy thong.

But after a little while he suddenly pulled away and looked intently at me.

"Hey - this isn't some stupid joke is it? Has someone dared you to make out with the fat bloke?"

"Shit," I said, feeling angry, "I'd never do that, that's just fucking sick."

"Well it's happened before," he said, looking miserable, "My mates seem to think it's funny getting me all steamed up and then revealing it's all been a set-up."

"Well fuck your mates!" I said and leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth. His response was immediate. I felt his big hands clasp my ass and lift me up to the kiss. I wrapped my legs around his waist and snaked my tongue down his throat. I so hoped his so-called friends were watching this.

I was breathless when we broke the kiss and he looked into my eyes and said "I dunno about fuck my mates - I'd rather fuck you Anna."

My head was spinning with the alcohol and the intensity of the situation and I must have looked shocked for a moment because Lee added almost pathetically, "I've got my own room back at the hotel."

The thought of him all alone in that room while his mates got off with my friends made my mind up. "Oh screw it," I said still clinging on to him, "Let's go."

I ignored the dumbass comments from my girlfriends when I went to fetch my bag from the table and I really enjoyed the gob-smacked looks of the guys as they realized Lee had copped off with me.

He was waiting outside the club with a cab and it wasn't long before we were in his hotel room (much nicer than the one I was sharing with two of my friends) and I was fumbling with his trouser-fastenings.

"Oh my God, this is really happening!" Lee gasped as I finally got his trousers round his ankles.

"Stop being surprised and let me see your cock" I giggled drunkenly as I pulled down his boxers to reveal his stumpy member. What I didn't realize at the time was that his fatness hid the real size of his cock because when I took him in my mouth and he started to grow hard I found it was really quite a decent size. It felt strange but nice when my nose pressed against the cushiony flesh of his pubic mound, like nuzzling into a pillow rather than bumping against a hard bony wall, and when I reached up and started squeezing his bum I found I really liked the soft, springy sensation of what he said himself after was his "fat ass".

But all this was nothing to what I felt when he lifted me up in his arms and put me on the bed. I was still so drunk I was laughing and giggling as he spread my legs and pressed his throbbing cock between my pussy lips, but I gasped out loud as I felt him push it inside me and adjust his body so he could start to fuck me properly.

What happened was that I felt his weight concentrated between my thighs. He had a 48 inch waist (I checked his pants later!) as compared to my 20 inches and as he moved between my legs and lowered himself to enter me, I felt my thighs being forced apart by the pressure. I wasn't so much being stretched as split apart.

Actually the feeling of his body pressing down on me was more intense than the feeling I was getting from his cock. I thought at first there was something wrong with this, surely I should be moaning on his cock, not getting turned on by his body weight, but, what the hell, it felt good no matter what.

The dull ache in my thighs as he stopped supporting himself on his hands and moved them under me to grab my ass as he burrowed his cock deep in my pussy turned into a grinding pain. His full 22 stones were bearing down on me and forcing my thighs wider and wider - I thought fleetingly this must be what giving birth feels like - and my arms were flailing wildly as I shivered and shook under him. But I never once thought this was hurting me. Instead the pain was turning me on, the ache in my thighs translating itself into an profoundly erotic response.

Quicker than I'd ever done before I was cumming like crazy under Lee's sweating body. With my legs in the air and his weight on my gut I could barely breath and this seemed to make my orgasm even more intense. I shrieked and quivered and pounded his back with my fists until he gave an animal grunt and came.

Afterwards I told him how amazing it had felt and he told me he'd been worried his weight might be a problem for me. I assured him it wasn't and to prove it I let him fuck my ass in a prone position so I could take his weight in a different position. That felt amazing too, being trapped underneath him made me feel vulnerable yet cozy - the softness of his fat rolls were a definite benefit.

Well, that's how I became a chubby-chaser or fat-freak or whatever else term you wanna find for it. I'd be keen to hear from other girls who agree with me that Bigger is Better and I would finish by saying to other girls out there who might find what I've written gross or unbelievable: don't knock it until you've tried it!

View attachment 149564​

now didn't that get this big old man hard and horny xxx