My lips find the silky, tangy skin of her neck and I suck, guided by her moans as I finally get her blouse open and Denise helps me by undoing her bra, letting me feel the weight of her breast in my left hand, my finger and thumb finding her stiff nipple and pinching it lightly, just enough to make her moan while not hurting her. Denise gasps, turning her head as I pull away from her neck, pleased by the red mark that I know is going to turn into a good hickie by tomorrow. “Louden...”
“Hmmm?” I tease lightly, pushing my hips into hers. “Something you want?”
“You know what I want,” she half moans, half growls, her dark eyes flashing. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Never thought of it,” I reply, leaning in and kissing her lips quickly before letting go and kneeling behind her. I don’t waste the time searching for the zipper on her skirt, and instead push it up, I know after a night of dancing it’s stretchy enough to let me see her sexy panties.
She’s soaked, maybe some sweat but mostly it’s her own arousal, and the aroma hits me in the face with all the force of a drug, and I am drunk, drunk on wanting Denise. I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down, burying my face in between her cheeks almost as soon as there’s space for my lips and my tongue.
“Fuck!” Denise half screams as my tongue finds her sopping wet pussy and I lick, inhaling the earthy, womanly scent of her body. I dive in, overwhelmed by the spicy, tangy flavor of her juices and I devour her, sucking hard. Denise cries out, spreading her legs a little to give me easier access to what I so intensely desire, and I glimpse the red jewel of her clit at the top of her pussy, glistening in the soft entryway lights.
I slide my tongue over it and Denise groans, a fresh gush of her juices covering my face and soaking my eager lips. I reach down with a free hand, undoing my belt and taking out my raging hard cock, which feels like it’s about to explode even though I haven’t even touched it yet.
Denise is lost in the feelings of my tongue on her pussy, grabbing the cushions of the sofa I think from the muffled squeaks, sobbing and crying out as I pour myself into licking and sucking on her wet folds, her breath coming in deep gasps until suddenly she starts panting, pushing back into my face. “Don’t stop Louden, I’m going to commmmm.....”
The feeling of Denise coming on my lips is absolute heaven, and I lap her juices hungrily, overcome with animal instinct as she cries out, her body shaking she’s being torn apart so hard. I don’t give her a chance to recover though, and while her pussy still is twitching I stand up, sliding my cock deep into her with one long stroke and making her throw her head up and look back at me, shock on her face. “Fuck, Louden!”
“Exactly,” I grunt, grabbing her waist and pulling back, thrusting into her smooth and fast. Denise’s pussy is perfect, tight but not too tight, warm and gripping my cock as I begin to drive myself deep inside her. I didn’t ask this time, but last time she said it was okay for me to not use a condom, so I don’t even worry about it as she starts pushing back, her body recovering a little and letting me speed up.
She’s fucking me as hard as I’m fucking her, her body giving her plenty to work with and thrilling me with every stroke of our bodies. Every other woman has always, eventually, wilted under my strength and power, even Lana.
But Denise gives it back to me as good as I’m giving it, our hips slapping together as she squeezes her pussy around my cock in time with my thrusts, making it better for both of us. She’s got nearly impossible stamina too, my ass and stomach are getting sore but she’s still pushing back, urging me to give it to her harder, faster, more.
I lose it, giving in to the instinct inside me and speed up, slamming into her with all my power, my cock steely hard and somehow, impossibly not coming as I pound her, reaching up and grabbing her hair, growling. “Who’s the best?”
Denise is immediate in her reply, groaning. “Fuck me... you are. Give it to me, make me come again.”
I let go of her hair to grab her wrists, the two of us driving each other as I ride her ass, my cock plunging in and out of her pussy and my eyes starting to roll up into my head it’s so intense. Denise starts to tremble, and my cock swells, knowing what’s going to happen, not a moment to soon.
The scream that comes out of her lips has to wake the neighbors, but it’s followed a moment later by my own deep bellow as her pussy clamps around my cock and I’m driven over the edge, my balls exploding and I squirt deep inside her, both of us twitching as we go over almost at the same time.
My feet start tingling, I’m coming so hard that I’m losing feeling in parts of my body, and Denise sags, the only reason she doesn’t face plant into the sofa is that I’m still somehow holding her wrists, emptying my cock deep inside her. I don’t know how many spurts I pump into her eager body, but when it’s over I feel drained, my legs shaky.
Denise is just as weak, and I gather her in my arms, holding her close as she stumbles in her high heels. “Where’s the bedroom?” I ask, and she laughs softly. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”
“That’s quite an offer,” she whispers, leaning on my shoulder as I help her down the hallway. Her bedroom is nice, a queen sized bed which I guess is all a single woman would need, and as I help her into bed, I kneel down, undoing the straps on her heels and taking them off while she does her skirt. I help her off with that and then her blouse, I guess she doesn’t mind sleeping nude. When I finish, she strokes my face, half smiling. “You’re a gentleman, Louden. Sometimes.”
I smile, kissing her fingertips. “When the right lady is in front of me.”
I get to my feet, adjusting my pants to tuck my cock inside again when her voice stops me. “Louden?”
“Yes?” I ask, turning around to look at her half asleep eyes, and she gives me a beseeching look that I totally understand without her saying a word. Instead of leaving, I unbuckle my pants again, pushing them down before I kick off my shoes and slide into bed, wedging myself in behind her. It’s a tight fit, but as Denise cushions her head on my arm, I find that I don’t mind it one bit.
Chapter 12
Denise- Ghosts Of The Past
Waking up in Louden’s arms is touching, and as I snuggle against his strong, lean body, I’m filled with a deep sense of utter contentment. Maybe I’m a counselor who says that you don’t need anyone to complete you, but by God, right now I’m feeling more complete than I ever have in my life.
More complete... and I need to go to the bathroom. “Excuse me,” I whisper, easing his arm off my stomach to sit up and run to the potty. I just make it, and as I clean up and scrub my face with some cool water, I’m hit with the first doubts. I look at my reflection in the mirror, wondering who the woman looking back at me is.
“What the hell did you just do?”
I never invite a man to stay the night, not on a first date. I mean, having sex in the locker room was bad enough, but to then sleep with him on our first date, too? What sort of image am I send, that I’m some sort of wanton slut tramp?
Face it, my reflection says back to me, the way he made you feel last night, you enjoyed a night of being a wanton slut. His wanton slut.
I don’t have an answer, but from the way my body feels, I can’t argue. Even seeing the darkening hickie on my neck doesn’t feel so bad, and I actually smile a little as I run my fingers over it, shaking my head. He marked me, the brazen motherfucker actually marked me... and I kinda like it.
I head back to the bedroom, shocked when I see Louden already sitting up, buckling his pants. “Leaving so soon?”
Louden sees the hurt on my face, and he shakes his head, giving me a reassuring smile. “Yes and no. Saturday is the day my cleaning lady comes in, and unless I want to wear some funky undies starting Tuesday, I need to let her in, she doesn’t have a key without prior arrangement. But she can lock up herself afterwards, so I was kinda hoping that this date could include breakfast? And that I might change into something more comfortable?”
His story is so unbelievable it can
only be true, and I feel relief wash over me as he gives me a grin, coming over and kissing me hotly. I’m left gasping when he’s finished, his green eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a knowing grin. “I’ll see you in an hour, give or take ten minutes.”
He disappears, and I watch the empty doorway, wondering what sort of mad demon’s taken over me. I quickly get in the shower and wash myself from head to toe, glad that my hair is the type that doesn’t need a ton of conditioner or other junk to look decent on a Saturday morning, and I change into something comfortable but still sort of casual, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
I slip on my battered house slippers and am making my morning pot of coffee when there’s a knock at my door. I check my clock to see it’s actually been forty seven minutes since he left, slightly surprised. Oh yeah, I gave him the code to the parking area this morning when he brought me home.
When I open the door, he’s changed as well, and he’s taken a shower too, his hair’s still slightly damp but his chin is shaved as smooth as a baby’s butt. “You said give or take ten minutes. You’re two minutes early.”
Louden, wearing a pair of jeans as well along with a Mount Reston basketball t-shirt, sticks his hands in his pockets and grins. “Well, I could stand out here like an idiot for two more minutes, but I gotta admit, there’s no way I could get to Dunkin’ Donuts and back in twenty two minutes. The drive through line’s out the parking lot.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ve got some Eggos in the freezer and some maple syrup in the fridge. How’s that sound?” I ask, and Louden’s answering grin is all I need to make me step aside. When he steps through I let him close the door before I push him against it and stand on my tiptoes, kissing him. “Mmmm, nice to kiss a man who’s taller than me. Nice to get to wear heels because of it too.”
“You greet me this way every time I come to your apartment, I’ll be stopping by for kisses and waffles every morning,” Louden jokes, and we go into the kitchen where we have a nice breakfast. Louden proves to me that his comments about his build being mostly genetic is true, as he eats like a normal person and doesn’t bat an eye when I eat two waffles with syrup too.
When we finish eating, he even helps me wash up, drying the dishes after I clean, humming the whole time. When we’re done, he leans against the counter, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “So, what would you like to do? I mean, am I butting in? Because if I am, I can go.”
“No, actually the opposite,” I say earnestly. “If you don’t mind sticking around, I feel like we skipped a few steps in the whole getting to know you phase, and I know a lot about other sides of you that I wouldn’t expect. I’d like to kinda even that out, if you don’t mind.”
Louden shakes his head, grinning even as he rolls his eyes melodramatically. “Not at all. So I guess this means you’re wanting a relationship and all that, huh?”
I laugh, he’s got a great sense of humor when he wants to show it. “Well, I’m not giving you space in my toothbrush caddy just yet, but we’ll see how it goes. Actually, I was thinking about it ever since you shared your dyslexia with me.”
“Hold on now, I don’t want you thinking that I was doing that for sympathy or that I need my hand held,” Louden says defensively, but stops when I shake my head.
“Not that, Louden. I want you to know about me, that’s all. So, come with me to the living room?” I ask, and Louden nods, taking my hand when I hold it out to him. When we get there he looks around, impressed.
“I didn’t get too good a look at it last night, I was sort of, well, distracted, but it’s nice. Classy,” he says, and I blush, thinking of what distracted him, and what I felt like being bent over the very sofa that we’re getting ready to sit down on. First time for the sofa, too.
“Thanks. It’s not what I want long term, but I’m proud of what I’ve done so far. So how’s the cleaning lady?” I ask while I get my DVD remote. “Hard at work?”
“Not so much, I was out of town for most of the week, but that means more laundry for her to do instead,” Louden says. “She’s a sweet person, and she uses the money for her granddaughter’s college education she says. I think she’s just doing it because her husband died last year and she’s bored out of her mind rattling around the house by herself. I’d bring her in another day, but she insists on Saturdays, says that it’s the best time to clean, who knows why. She makes a pretty mean set of brownies too, which my daughter loves.”
I laugh, feeling nervous all of a sudden, and sit down. “Louden, you asked me when we first met, what got me into the whole BoPo thing. I didn’t really give you an answer, and it’s one that not a lot of people know. I’m sort of embarrassed about it, honestly.”
Louden’s smile disappears, and he sits forward, listening to me with a serious look on his face. “Were you shamed or something?”
I shake my head, and point my remote at my TV. “Here, this sort of explains it all. Sit back, the unedited version is about ten minutes long.”
I start the video, and Louden watches as the screen starts up. The narrator is some B-level voice actor, I think he was a newsman for a local station or something in the Pittsburgh area, where the video was made.
“Starting from an early age, Denise Taviolo was a premier athlete. An early tomboy, Denise did gymnastics, martial arts, and even played Pop Warner football with her first and second grade classmates.”
The video shows a moving panorama of me, in a leotard for gymnastics, a short clip of me in my karate gi going for my black belt test and breaking boards, and even a highlight clip of me getting a sack in football. Louden glances over at me, and I nod, I’m not bullshitting him with this. He doesn’t say anything though as the video continues.
“When she reached middle school, Denise found a new passion, this time for tennis. With her long frame and natural grace, she quickly earned a spot on her high school’s varsity team as well as becoming a nationally ranked karate competitor before a hip injury her junior year pushed her from the tennis court to the weight room.”
I shake my head as the video cuts to me in an interview mode, and Louden’s eyes widen as he sees how I used to look. “From the first time I stepped in the weight room, I loved it. There was a sense of total control, of dedication that I’d never felt before. By the time I ended high school, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and picking my school was easy.”
The video cuts back to more montage clips as the narrator takes over. This time the montage is of me training and lifting. “Going to the University of Virginia, Denise started competing in both fitness competitions and powerlifting, a unique mix that very few female athletes can do. But with her tremendous talent and ability born of years in the dojo as well, Denise Taviolo won titles in both sports.”
The video shows clips of me in powerlifting, although most of the shots are from my fitness competition days, and of course most of them are from the swimsuit rounds, I’d never been as good at the demonstrations as some of the short girls who could do back handspring roundoffs like it was child’s play.
“A lot of people have asked me why I’d be interested in trying out for the Miss Barbellina Competition,” I say, the camera cutting back to me. “Of course, the chance to be in the calendar is great. And yeah, I’d like the spokesmodel money too, ha ha ha. But honestly, if it was anything, I decided to enter because I like the challenge. I want to prove to myself that I can do it, that I can achieve anything I want to do, be whoever I want to be.”
The video fades out from my face as I speak, going to a full body shot of me in a daring bikini, clear platform heels and fake tan as expertly applied as I could afford, my hair done and my makeup flawless. I pause the video just before the end, where I’m shown in a full length pose, my ass half thrust out while I puff out my chest, a smile on my face and a sparkle in my eyes.
“Three days after they shot that video, I collapsed on a treadmill,” I say, sighing. “When they got me to the hospital, they diagnosed me with severe dehydrat
ion, electrolyte imbalance, and even minor liver and kidney dysfunction because of what I’d been putting myself through. I had to drop out of the Miss Barbellina Competition, of course.”
“Jesus,” Louden whispers, looking from the woman on the TV to me. “How long were you in the hospital?”
“Five days,” I reply, shutting off the TV. “When I got out, I’d gained twenty pounds, all of it from water and my body being finally fed after being in starvation mode for six months. My hormones were shut down, I hadn’t had a period in four months, which while that sounds yucky as hell, is not good for a woman. My hair was brittle, what you saw in the video was about seventy percent extensions since my hair broke once it was past three or four inches long, and the fake tan covered up my flaking, peeling skin.”
“But the video said you did fitness competitions before this one,” Louden asks, confused. “You hadn’t had the same issues?”
“Oh, I’d had them, never to that severity before,” I admit. “You see Louden, I thought that I could use my willpower to deny who I am. Because when I was in high school, that rehabbing tennis player, someone said I was looking a bit chunky because of the muscle I’d put on in rehab. So, I decided to diet to look hot for the prom, thinking my date would appreciate it. He did, and I got compliments from some of my girlfriends, and it was the beginning. For the next six years, I was fighting two battles at the same time. On one hand, I was training hard, maybe as hard as you did in college, for powerlifting and gymnastics and all of it. But I was constantly denying myself food. I weighed every gram of fat, protein, and carbs that went into my body. And when I came out of the hospital, depressed, needing support, you know what happened?”
Love At Every Size Page 10