Romance: Three Stories of BBBW Lust and Love Page 3

  I took it upon myself to run one of my hands over the front of my body and even though my sensitive spot was worn out and ached from post-pleasure play I couldn’t help but rub onto myself as I took Tom’s member.

  My hand was soon leaking with fluids as I instantly began to burst once more; him being inside of me made my entire body shake with passion as my skin was stretched out by his pulsating shaft. I didn’t know how much longer I could last; my whole body was shaking as he ran his hand through my hair and pulled back on it; his thrusts getting deeper and his grip getting tighter. I could feel him trembling as his groans of joy reached a level equal to my own; he was close.

  Pulling out at the very last moment and shooting a clear shot right over my back I could feel the warm fluid as it ran back down over my skin and through the crack of my cheeks which were now retracting after they had been stretched apart by the long shaft of Tom. With nothing left in me I hit the leather and began to relax my body which had taken more than its fair share today.

  I hadn’t had a workout like that in a long time; I didn’t know what this meant for myself and the large lady lover but I knew I wouldn’t ever regret looking in a mirror again. It was possible to be a big, beautiful brunette and still have the sex life of a slim-waist blonde.

  ***

  Story three: Diner woman

  January 21st 1982

  Dear diary – today I got a job at the diner! Miss Cathy was kind enough to offer it me seeing as I can’t pay rent this month. She’s even given me a full months wage in advance to cover that… she’s always been so gracious when others have looked down on me. We might have made some advances in ‘equality’ but being dark-skinned in Texas was still like being in the twenties or something. I just hope I can make my life here work. I’m a good woman, I went to school and I pay my taxes. I have the right to walk with my head up high just like any white woman would. I’m just so glad Miss Cathy saw past the colour of my skin – she always complimented my smile. She told me seeing my smile in her little diner made the place feel like a five-star restaurant.

  January 27th 1982

  My first day off since I started – thank the lord. It’s been odd, it’s been a little cruel but despite that it’s been fun. Miss Cathy wasn’t joking when she said she’d work me as hard as any other girl, I’ve found myself serving the most vile, racist of truckers and then the next minute I’m wiping up their mess as they snort at me when they leave the table. I expected as much though and I don’t hold a grudge against Miss Cathy for not shouting at every guy who did that – she’d have no customers left!

  There was one incident though; I don’t know his name but he was devilishly handsome. One of the regulars that Miss Cathy warned me to stay in the kitchen during his short-stay as he gobbled up his meat on meat burger started hurling abuse when I stepped out to the counter to grab more plates. His words were vile, his food spraying across the table as he spat and slurred my way. I’d never experienced that level of abuse before and I could feel my eyes welling up at his sharp tongue.

  Suddenly a man in uniform – navy or army I’m not certain, stood from his seat and slammed the racists head down into his food. He rubbed his face in his own spit then let him go. I couldn’t believe my eyes, I admit I was scared but in a strange way it charmed me. The man In uniform looked towards me as I stood shaking behind the counter and then back down to the pig who seemed dazed from having his head smashed into a table. He spoke out -

  “Apologize to the lady who worked hard preparing your food or get the hell out of this place and never come back.” With that the man left and the guy who defended me lifted his hat in a bowing manner and then exited too.

  Miss Cathy told me his name was John, she didn’t know much more but she said she’d served him a few times whenever he was coming through town. It was the first time anyone had ever stood up for me that way.

  Oh I hope I do see him again. His blue eyes and dark hair sitting atop that pale body. Please let me see him again, I’d very much like to thank him.

  February 6th 1982

  It’s been ten long yet peaceful days since I saw John. Thanks to his little show there have been no more remarks from new or old customers. Miss Cathy informed me a few of her friends heard of the show and they were all coming in to see the hero himself. She said it was good for business so I guess everyone won. I felt like I was starting to belong somewhere – although I was sleeping in a tiny room three doors down from the diner and I spent all my time working. Still, it was something that I was enjoying. I’d even made friends with a few of the regulars. Housewives who loved to share explicit stories about their husbands with anyone who would listen, it was nice to feel like a part of a community for once… I think I finally found a place to call home.

  The diner was hardly the place for ladies; these were women of the working class. Most of them did stay at home, most of them cared for children yet without fail at lunch-time everyday they’d find an escape and open their not-so-lady-like mouths as they swayed on bar stools and turned into teenagers again. Miss Cathy really did make this place feel like home – and not just to me.

  It was on this particular evening that someone brought up useful information about John.

  “I know that boy.” A tall, skinny-blonde with a strong Texas accent and who looked far too classy broke out with the announcement to the whole of the diner.

  I’d never seen her in the diner before, I didn’t see her come in with anyone either. Her proud presence and wealthy look made me come to the conclusion she was only there to talk about the ‘hero’ that she claimed to know.

  Suddenly everyone was asking her thousands of questions to which she replied -

  “Calm down ladies, one at a time please. Let me explain how I know the hero – my husband.” When those words left her mouth I felt like a thousand needles had ripped through my skin.

  Why did those words hurt me so? I didn’t even know the man…

  March 1st 1982

  Today I am filled with rage.

  Mrs John, blonde and rich came into the diner today looking to stir up more gossip about her husband just when everyone had stopped speaking about it. She spouted out a thousand stories of their wealthy life together and how they were ‘always kind to the maids’ who happened to be dark-skinned. She even went as far as to accuse her own man of sleeping with a ‘black’ behind her back but she’d forgive him because her maids are ‘obviously whores’

  There was something she said that made me want to spit in her drink. Something so insensitive and harsh.

  “I don’t know if these maids expect John to have five wives like they do where they’re from but here in the U.S we have dignity.” Miss Cathy had to hold me back from throwing hot coffee in her face. I’ve never hated someone so much – why would John be married to her?

  I don’t believe her at all. I know he wouldn’t do that… I know he is a man of compassion. I’ve seen it.

  March 10th 1982

  Dear Diary…

  Today the most marvellous of all things happened. I’m shaking as I write this in your tear-soaked pages. These are not sad tears though, they’re of joy and wonder and amazement.

  As I worked my shift, laughing at the local gossip and exchanging conversation with Miss Cathy, there sat at one of our tables was John. When my eyes met his my heart stopped for a second, how long had he been there? Was it really him? So many questions rushing through my mind and before anything made sense he smiled at me. John smiled… at me.

  Before I could gather myself he walked over to the bar.

  “You know, I hear there’s this thing called food that you serve here.” It was an incredibly smug sentence he threw my way, not that I minded in the slightest. His piercing eyes and charming smile made every woman in the diner swoon, suddenly all eyes were on us and John looked like he wanted it that way.

  “What would you like?” It’s all I could really respond with. It was almost instant, I wish I’d said something different at first but the outcome was still wonderful.

  “Well first of all I’d like a burger; secondly I’d like to know what time you finish tonight. Any order would be fine.” There was a universal gasp throughout the diner.

  Mutterings of ‘isn’t he married’ and things similar were spoken quite loudly throughout although none of this seemed to phase the handsome, white male standing in-front of me. I wanted to say yes right away but there was enough stereotypes going around thanks to his wife.

  “No sir, I don’t think that wise. I’ll get your burger for you.” I tried to walk away as I felt my heart flutter inside but John reached over and grabbed my wrist. It wasn’t aggressive, it was gentle but it kept me still long enough for him to continue his pursuit.

  “May I have a reason as to why I can’t visit you when you finish?” The reason appeared to be pretty obvious to everyone except John.

  “Because sir, you’re a married man.”

  Suddenly that harmless expression on John’s face turned to one of rage and anger. He turned his head to a silent room and began to yell out so that everyone in the diner could hear him.

  “You may have heard a few things about me these last few weeks but I assure every single person here that I am a free man. The woman who claims otherwise is called Amy and she is my ex-wife. We are divorced, make of it what you will but I was never a happy man with her. She only looks for gossip and money, all else be damned to that woman.” He turned his head back to me once more –

  “And now that it’s all settled Miss, I would very much like to see you later.”

  I agreed without hesitation. He should be here any moment now… I’ll write to you tomorrow.

  March 11th 1982.

  I think I’m in love… Is that ridiculous?

>   Last night John arrived almost an hour after I finished work, I thought he wasn’t going to show but just as Miss Cathy made me that comforting banana milkshake and served me a plate of fires – there was John. Stood in a suit, looking as handsome as ever and with a bouquet of lilies. I forgave his lateness instantly.

  Miss Cathy left me the keys to lock up and the two of us stayed in the diner seeing as we already had food cooking. Sat at one of the tables and staring back and forth to each other the room was soon filled with laughter and questions. I wanted to know everything about my hero and he wanted to know everything about me. I’d never felt such a connection, such a spark with a man I’d only just met. He went from being a stranger to the only thing I could think about in moments.

  One of his questions stood out more than most –

  “Why Texas, I don’t mean to offend but we don’t exactly hold a good record when it comes to race.”

  “Because I’m not afraid of proving myself.” It was all I could respond with – it was the only answer that really meant anything.

  I think John liked my response – I’m sure he did because moments later he was reaching over the table, half of his suit landing in mustard and embracing my lips with his own. I’d never felt anything like it, that jolt of passion that tore through my insides and left me breathless as he pulled away.

  “I’m sorry ma’am, I just had to steal a kiss from you.” I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all but I found myself frozen with all kinds of thoughts. What about his wife or former wife? What about the town, I didn’t want John face the wrath of others who wouldn’t agree. There was so much to be discussed but it wasn’t the time nor place.

  I let John take one more kiss from me after we stood from our seats to say goodbye. He was passionate, soft, his lips like cherries brushing against my own on a hot summers day. He was like a drop of alcohol, that craving to give yourself over and drink the whole bottle until it fills you with warmth but I knew better than to do that and I knew better than to give myself a way to any man even if it was John.

  Still… I think I love him. That first kiss just set off these feelings that I still can’t stop. As I write this down I’m sat on my bed with one hand on my heart just trying to make sense of it all. I can feel the blood in my body rushing in all kinds of directions and my heart just keeps pounding harder and harder. I don’t know what I am to do if this continues.

  Oh John, please be kind. I really wish for this to work; for both our sakes.

  March 14th 1982

  John didn’t show up for a few days. I thought I may have misplaced my feelings but then when I turned around to serve my tenth cheese burger and fries of the day I was welcomed with that handsome face and those gorgeous eyes.

  “I’ll have whatever the lady recommends.” He spoke out like a true gentleman so I just placed that other guy’s order at his front and began to chat away to my man.

  I explained all my fears and why I’d been so distant on our date. John had a lot to say – too much. I couldn’t get the entire story between serving milkshakes and washing dishes but it goes a little something like this…

  John married into a wealthy family but felt trapped when his wife’s dad forced him to work at his company. John saw his only escape as serving in the army or marines or something like that. He left everything behind and went to serve our country which gave the man a lot of backbone. He came back a proud man who wasn’t afraid to get a divorce despite the south and all its old ways. John was just trying to do what made him happy but that blonde ex of his wouldn’t have that. She was out to put an end to him unless he came back to her but she failed at every attempt. Now her latest trick was to go around the town acting like absolutely nothing happened between the two of them. She told everyone how great he was to her, claimed he was her man and all kinds of lies. I felt terribly confused by it all but John really made me believe. I knew he wouldn’t lie to me.

  It was at that point that she came walking into the diner. She stomped on over and interrupted our conversation -

  “What do you think you’re doing here with this black girl. You should be at home John.” I had to bite my tongue as I listened to that woman insult me. I was used to that kind of treatment from some but every time she pulled on his jacket and tried to force him out of his seat I just wanted to jump over that counter and beat her with a ketchup bottle.

  Everyone in the diner looked as if they were about to step-in but there was also this look of worry on everyone’s face. This woman was known, really known and she was not the nicest of people or the most forgiving. She seemed to know everyone who was anyone and I don’t think there was one soul brave enough to do a thing despite her being to become hysterical and violent towards John.

  I have no idea what came over me. I just ran over to the milkshake machine and poured a giant cup of strawberry, turned around and flung it at that witches face. You could hear the gasp throughout the diner, I looked to Miss Cathy who I was sure was about to fire me on the spot.

  “How dare you, I will report this and have your black ass behind bars in moments.” I didn’t know what to do or say. It felt good but the fear of what would happen next soon shook me up.

  “I didn’t see a thing.” One of the ladies who spent their evenings in the diner spoke out as she stood from her stool.

  “Me either.” Miss Cathy was next.

  “Me either!” And another one.

  One after one all the women I’d made friends with over these last few months started claiming that nothing had happened and that she’d simply spilt the milkshake on herself and that’s the story they were going to stick with no matter what. I’d never felt so loved in such an odd situation.

  The best part about it all was that John told me he was mine… However he did have to leave for a few months but he promised me he’d be back for me as soon as he could.

  June 1st 1982

  It feels like forever since I’d seen John.

  Not much has changed apart from now we send four letter s a week to one another. I miss him so much, I wish I’d let the man sweep me off my feet when I’d had the chance. All the guilty pleasures in the world don’t make up for what I missed. I swore if I ever saw him again then I wouldn’t wait. I’d take him by the hand and lead him right up to my bed.

  And so I did…

  Yesterday John came crashing in through the door of the diner. He’d finished for the year. I was so happy and Miss Cathy gave me the entire day off right there on the spot. Everything was feeling so magical and wonderful that I couldn’t control myself. I took John by the hand and led him right to my bed. Lying down on the soft, warm sheets he stripped from his uniform and wasted no time in moving his white, hot flesh over my dark skin. Undoing the buttons on my yellow and red uniform and grasping at my large, dark breasts as they popped out of the opened collar.

  “May I?” A gentleman in every situation.

  “You may.”

  John’s lips wrapped around my plump, pink nipple as his tongue sent riveting pulses throughout my body. Watching as his milk-like hands grasped at my soft, dark flesh made me full of lust and passion. I wanted him to ravish me on my bed and never stop. Not until I was breathless and numb.

  His tongue circled around my erect nipple and his mouth latched on so he could suck it. I cried over and over for more and John delivered as best as he could. His large hands slowly working their way down my body and gently caressing my undergarments as his eyes looked at my own and I nodded in agreement with his thoughts. He looked like a boy at Christmas the moment I moved my head up and down, reaching in for his present and slowly unwrapping every last bit of fabric that stood in his way. I was left exposed for my lover to take.

  John’s warm, long fingers slowly dipped themselves into me. My dark, moist flesh devoured them up as I cried out for more. I was no lady when it came to the bedroom and John knew that right away. I ordered my marine to give me more and he obeyed the command, another finger found its way inside of me and suddenly that jolt of pleasure that ripples throughout your body, that airlessness that you feel in your throat and all those other wonderful sensations befell me.