Fat Bottomed Girls_Three or four is not a crowd

Home > LGBT > Fat Bottomed Girls_Three or four is not a crowd > Page 2
Fat Bottomed Girls_Three or four is not a crowd Page 2

by Limey Lady


  Moving Dani’s blonde locks out of the way with her nose, she kissed and nuzzled her lightly tanned neck.

  ‘I’ll do anything you want,’ she breathed, ‘tell me and it’s yours.’

  ‘I want you to screw me,’ Dani replied. ‘Throw me on the bed and screw me.’

  Her words were music to Angie’s ears. And the sight of the bed didn’t hurt, either. She hadn’t taken a lot of notice of the bedchamber until then. Now, when she finally came to look, she could see that the antique theme was continued and included a four-poster.

  As a venue for fucking she couldn’t have imagined a better one.

  Still squeezing Dani’s tits and nuzzling the back of her neck, Angie whispered.

  ‘I’ll screw you forever if you like. Want me to?’

  ‘Yes . . . yes I do.’

  Dexterous again, Angie unfastened Dani’s stretchy jeans.

  ‘On the bed,’ she commanded. ‘Take them off for me. Do it now.’

  Dani complied.

  ‘My knickers,’ she said throatily, ‘what about them?’

  ‘Leave them on for now,’ said Angie. ‘I’ll take them off when I’m good and ready.’

  While Dani blatantly ogled her, Angie removed her denims and panties, totally in control as she did so. She was a large, skin-headed girl with a man-like body but knew that women liked the sight of her. Her early teenage insecurities had been ditched long ago. Okay, so she was over six feet tall and well-built, but she wasn’t fat and she wasn’t unattractive.

  Yes, nowadays Angie was comfortable inside her own skin and liked attention. Hell, she wasn’t even averse to a bit of drooling male attention, was she? Men liked her tits as much as girls did. So long as they looked but didn’t touch she was cool with that.

  ‘Think of England,’ she said before kissing Dani’s mouth . . . and her eyelids and cheeks and chin.

  ‘Let me,’ she added, pressing her lips to Dani’s fetchingly swollen nips.

  ‘Fuck yes,’ Dani wailed. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

  Equally excited, Angie gave Dani the full foreplay treatment, focusing a lot on those tits but regularly gravitating upwards to kiss all parts of her face.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ Dani regularly moaned.

  She seemed surprised by the oral attack on her armpits. And the toe-sucking simply blew her mind.

  Then, perhaps as long as half an hour into the feast, Angie went for some pussy.

  Well, in truth she went for quite a lot of pussy. Nibbling Dani through her soggy panties at first, going on protruding outlines rather than visible targets, she ate her and ate her. Those panties soon weren’t merely soggy, they were saturated.

  Chuckling, Angie pulled them off. Underneath Dani was clean-shaven, swollen and quite predictably dripping. Determined to be as thorough as possible, Angie began with her clitoral hood, moving it over and around her actual clit; moving it very, very slowly indeed.

  Then, content she’d found the right rhythm, she leant in and used her tongue, spiralling in decreasing circles around the mouth of Dani’s vagina, relishing the taste and her very vocal approval.

  Ultimately, with the diameter of her circles next to nothing at all, she took stock. She was not actually penetrating yet, not really, but she was definitely stimulating squillions of nerve endings.

  ‘Fuck yes,’ Dani howled. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

  Deciding that Dani was nearly as ready as she was, Angie pushed with her tongue, sinking in maybe half an inch and locating another squillion or so nerve endings. Meanwhile her fingers carried on their good work, manipulating that hood; slowly, so very, very slowly.

  ‘Fuck me,’ went Dani. ‘I’m gonna explode.’

  Angie’s tongue pressed in another inch or two, G-spot hunting.

  Dani exploded.

  Showing no mercy whatsoever, Angie continued tonguing and manipulating, seeing Dani through her initial cum and on to another one. Then, safely through number two, she switched tactics.

  Dani’s clit was as large as any Angie had ever encountered. By now over-sensitivity wasn’t a problem. Transferring the tip of her tongue to the swollen button, she began spiralling again, decreasing those circles much more swiftly. Simultaneously, she slipped two fingers inside the world’s hottest, readiest vagina.

  When it came to fingering two was Angie’s lucky number. Dani seemed to like it as well. In no time at all she was contracting and roaring approval.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, yes, yes!!’

  After taking Dani’s cum count up to five Angie switched tactics again. Sliding up her juddering, so very grateful body, she got into position: nose to nose; tits to tits; groin to groin.

  ‘Now I’m going to fuck you,’ she breathed.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Dani countered. ‘Oh yes, yes please.’

  Tribbing was Angie’s specialist subject. She could perform in several ways, from purely pleasing her lover to purely pleasing herself. That time she went for the middle ground, using all of her sex on all of Dani’s and blessing them with a gloriously long string of alternating orgasms. All false modesty aside, she excelled.

  ‘Fuck yes,’ Dani groaned over and over. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

  Their ultimate conclusion was co-ordinated by the female art of verbal communication. It was without doubt mutual and as perfectly synchronized as of a pair of Olympic divers. In fact by then their groins couldn’t have been wetter if they’d plunged into an Olympic diving pool.

  It was splash, cum, splash, cum, splash!

  ‘Bravo,’ a voice cried as Angie’s entire nervous system stopped spontaneously combusting.

  ‘That was entertaining,’ someone else added, ‘to say the least.’

  Billie was framed in the bedroom doorway, naked and grinning. Charlie, just as bare-assed, was there at her side.

  ‘We brought vino,’ Charlie went on. ‘We decided three hours was too long without a drink.’

  ‘Three hours,’ Dani gasped. ‘It feels more like three hundred.’

  ‘Don’t wimp,’ said Billie. ‘We’re not here just to wet your whistles. We’re here to join in.’

  Chapter Four

  Dani’s bed wasn’t particularly large but, as Saturday morning rolled around, Angie wasn't complaining. Lack of space wasn’t an issue when four girls were getting close and personal, was it?

  She chuckled to herself. Even now, as the last person still awake, she was in physical contact with at least two of her bedfellows. Okay, they were lying in a tangle of arms and legs and it was hard to say exactly who was tangled with whom . . .

  But the contact was still there: she had a pair of tits in her face and hands on her pussy and tits. From their size and shape she guessed the tits were Dani’s. The hands could be anyone’s.

  Talk about being as snug as a bug in a rug!

  As a veteran of several threesomes back home, with Liz and Suzanne, Angie now thought foursomes were more exciting. Perhaps it had been because her threes had all been pre-arranged while the four had happened out of nowhere. Perhaps it had been because tonight’s partners were a little older than her sixth form girlfriends.

  Or perhaps she was just a horny whore with an unnatural appetite for sex.

  Although not much alcohol had been consumed, her memories were blurred after her one-to-one with Dani. Initially they’d paired off, her with Charlie, Billie with Dani; she could remember that all right. And she could remember being on her back beside Billie, kissing her and squeezing on each other’s tits as they were being eaten by their respective partners.

  Had they swapped again after that? Or had they gone straight into three-onto-one?

  Angie chuckled again. Three-onto-one, how decadent was that! Her on her back again, a pussy in her face while mouths worked on her own pussy and tits. And while knowing hands moved wantonly here, there and everywhere about her person, of course.

  ‘What’s with all the cackling,’ Dani yawned, moving her chest away.

  ‘I’m just thinking happy thoughts,’ said Ang
ie. Then, noticing the LED display on a nearby alarm clock: ‘Omigod, is that the time? I have to go. I’ve got a train to catch.’

  ‘I never had you down as a party pooper,’ Billie put in, yawning in her own right. ‘We’ve got a bed and a weekend before us, haven’t we? Who needs a train?’

  ‘I’m meeting someone,’ Angie protested, untangling her legs and standing up. ‘Can I use your shower, Dani?’

  ‘It’s through there.’ The LGBT blonde pointed.

  Five minutes later, washed, dried and dressed, Angie stuck her head round the bedroom door to find Charlie still asleep and Billie down on Dani.

  ‘We definitely have to do it again sometime,’ she said. ‘Let me know when and I’ll make sure I’m free the morning after.’

  ‘Oh my God, yes,’ Dani replied.

  ‘Mmmm, mmmm,’ went Billie, quite rudely speaking with her mouth full.

  Most places in town seemed to be just ten minutes’ walk from the uni. Dani’s house was more like twenty. Not that Angie minded the walk. The sun was up and the fresh autumnal air was bracing. In fact she was even recovering her sense of recall. Finding something to think about as she went was not a big problem.

  Before she knew it she’d reached her hall and was bouncing up four flights of steps, her legs not tired at all by the night’s exertions. Predictably, the door to 443 opened as she neared her own room.

  Which Madhu will it be today, Angie wondered, the seductively beckoning version, or the one asking where the hell I’ve been until this ungodly hour?

  ‘Hiya Angie,’ Madhu said brightly. ‘You timed that well. I’m just off to the showers. You can tag along and scrub my back if you like.’

  Fresh out of Dani’s shower or not, Angie wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that. Darting into room 444 she snatched some clean clothes and a towel and hurried after Madhu, finding her sitting on one of the slatted wooden benches, wearing her own towel and reading a magazine somebody had abandoned there.

  ‘That was quick,’ Madhu said, looking up and smiling, ‘and even better timing. We have got the place to ourselves.’

  Angie tried not to goggle when Madhu set off into the white-tiled area. Dressed and smiling, Madhu was the most beautiful girl on the planet. Naked, she was the most beautiful girl in the universe.

  Visibly trembling, Angie followed her next-room neighbour past several showerheads and stopped beside her when she chose one in the middle of the line.

  ‘Do you really want to scrub my back?’ Madhu was smiling again, coquettishly this time.

  ‘I certainly do,’ said Angie.

  ‘What about washing my hair first? I think I’d enjoy that.’

  Struggling for words, Angie nodded. Madhu had glorious long, straight black hair. It was already wet from the overhead spray; wet but not in the least bit straggly. In fact it looked very sexy indeed.

  Yet Angie hesitated. Up until now she had been strangely reluctant to touch Madhu. Madhu had been the one who had done most of the touching.

  And washing the girl’s hair! How intimate was that!!

  Madhu passed Angie a bottle of peppermint shampoo and smiled again. ‘Go on then,’ she said, ‘do your worst.’

  It had been nearly seven years since Angie had had hair of her own to shampoo, and even then it had not been as long as Madhu’s. Guessing at the amounts, she squeezed a measure into her palm and a big dollop directly onto the crown of the girl’s head. Then she gently began to massage it in.

  ‘That feels great,’ said Madhu.

  She arched her back a moment before pushing her body against Angie’s. Angie gulped. She’d shared a bed with Madhu several times, but always platonically. Well, okay, so Madhu hadn’t been nearly as platonic as her. The girl wasn’t as innocent as she seemed; she’d instigated a lot of kissing and some of her touching had been intimate.

  Make that very, very intimate. She had made Angie cum more than just once. But Angie had vowed to look out for her. She felt a responsibility for her. Although she had no problem with her own sexuality she did not intend to influence Madhu’s, hence her reluctance.

  Influencing a (mostly) pure and innocent girl would be unfair, wouldn’t it?

  Here and now, however, under hot spray from two showerheads, soapy water running over them, wet skin moving on wet skin . . .

  Somehow ignoring the way their tits were pressing together, Angie carried on massaging that lovely long hair. Except the shampoo had been used; what little was left of it needed rinsing away.

  No, it needed rinsing away over and between their bare, wet bodies.

  ‘Here,’ said Madhu, handing Angie a thick bar of soap. Then, staring into her eyes: ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten what you promised me for this afternoon.’

  Angie couldn’t possible have forgotten. “Madhu” apparently translated as “honey”. Madhu’s boyfriend had told her that she tasted of honey, down there; that her name was very, very appropriate.

  But men were full of BS, weren’t they? Madhu needed a second, impartial opinion.

  ‘You haven’t forgotten, have you?’

  Angie was rubbing the soap over Madhu’s back, not hurrying and unable to escape from her gaze.

  ‘I haven’t forgotten,’ she said softly.

  In response Madhu cupped her groin, making her gasp. She’d somehow poured herself a handful of shampoo or body-wash and it was cold against Angie’s hotness.

  ‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ Madhu continued. ‘And I want you to be very thorough, like a scientist taking dozens of samples.

  Still rubbing Madhu’s back but aimlessly . . . hopelessly distracted . . . Angie felt fingers on her pussy.

  And she climaxed without a second’s thought.

  ‘Well my goodness,’ a voice cried. ‘Look at that!’

  Alarmed, Angie turned her head to see three sweaty girls in fluorescent running kit. She didn’t know their names but recognized them instantly. They were out pounding the streets every morning. In fact they’d once playfully invited her to join them.

  She opened her mouth to say she knew what not.

  Only to be beaten to it by Madhu.

  ‘Hi girls,’ she said brightly, ‘come on in, the water’s fine.’

  Chapter Five

  The railway station was as busy as could be. Leastways the Manchester-bound platform was. As far as Angie could see, the other platform was sparsely populated. And there was no sign over there of her trainspotting friend, Craig. Maybe he’d already been and gone, north-bound on the west coast line. Maybe he’d been there, done that and was currently heading into Yorkshire, jerking off excitedly as he crossed the Ribblehead Viaduct.

  Or maybe he was with that guy he’d hooked up with the night they’d first met, playing a different sort of game of trains and tunnels altogether.

  ‘What are you grinning at?’ Madhu enquired, gripping her arm.

  ‘Life’s intricacies,’ Angie replied.

  ‘Nothing to do with sex shops, then?’

  ‘And your grin’s nothing to do with us being caught in the showers?’

  Madhu laughed. ‘They didn’t actually see anything.’

  ‘So says you. You don’t know what they actually saw any more than I do.’

  ‘They didn’t join in, did they? Not even though that short-assed one obviously wanted to.’

  The arrival of a train saved Angie from answering. Not forty minutes later they were coming out of the station, hand-in-hand and heading for the nearest shops.

  ‘Here,’ said Madhu, indicating a purple-fronted outlet. ‘You’re after a place like this, aren’t you?’

  Angie rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘I’d rather slit my wrists. It’s so tacky! I’m aiming for Ann Summers, not Sleazy Mike’s.’

  ‘Sleazy Mike looks to have a lot of nice dildos.’ Madhu sniggered. ‘Not that I’d know, of course.’

  ‘Right,’ said Angie. ‘There’s nothing sleazy about you, is there.’

  ‘No,’ Madhu trilled, ‘not
so you’d notice.’

  *****

  An hour or so of respectable window-shopping and the duo stumbled across a much more upmarket sex shop. In fact it looked like a brand-new branch of Prada. Better still, there was a coffee shop right across the street.

 

‹ Prev