[M]y [F]irst and only BBW Experience [craigslist]

I had just moved across the country to LA for a new job, but I guess it was not solely the job I was moving to the west coast for. I was also moving because fuck the Midwest. I was over it. And I was moving because I met a woman, and I thought she was awesome. We were both crazy in much the same way. It’s not like I didn’t know this was a bad idea. But I moved to LA because I kinda fucking love LA. All of SoCal, really. The woman was the impetus for my move, during a time when I was in a rut. I think maybe that is the theme for this story…the landslide falling down.

I think we know our own secret motivations behind our actions, even if we tell ourselves and others some misdirections. Those motivations may only come to light years after the fact, and are obscured by the fog of time. We create these stories of our lives which are never really totally true at the time, and when viewed through the prism of age and experience, and subjected to the fragility of our own memories, start to take on a totally different meaning. That’s just the nature of existence and the stories we tell to make sense of it.

I would’ve been around 30 at this point. On my drive across the country, the woman I was telling myself I was moving for broke up with me. I was sitting in the back of my Uhaul in the parking lot of a shitty motel in Blythe, CA, half-filled with the scant shit I owned at that time when she decided to tell me this. She thought it was better to go back to her previous dude, because he had his shit together, and I was clearly winging it. Granted these were valid points, but her timing could’ve been better. I really did love this woman, and was devastated. I was moving to a place where I literally did not know a soul, except the wind-blown Newport Beach asshole who interviewed and hired me on the spot when I came to visit a month prior.

But I had a good job and a sweet pad two blocks from the beach in an apartment complex that was like living on a constant vacation. So the sadness was quickly masked by a realization that I could continuously drown any sorrows with a constant stream of alcohol, drugs, and beautiful women. I rolled into town, unloaded, and started to get settled into work. My apartment had no furniture except for a whole lot of books, a table, a drafting stool, and a king sized mattress. The first couple of days I was a little lost, did not start going out to meet people or anything yet, and was really fucking horned-up. No sex for a month or so, so I did what I people typically do when they’re desperate and out of ideas. CRAIGSLIST!

This was before Tinder or hook-up apps came along and made casual sex available at your fingertips. This was a time when seeking convenient casual sex meant you had to wade through the cesspool of the CL casual encounters section. I say that with (mostly) admiration for what the CL casual encounters section is, and has provided me in the past – which is a good deal of really great stories. I can’t even remember the post that I made, or potentially responded to, that brought Amanda into my life for those couple of weeks, but she was my first sexcapade as a resident of LA. She was an 18 year old, fresh-faced, blonde BBW, who wanted nothing more than for me to fuck her face and come down her throat.

Up until Amanda, I had never been with a BBW. I have not been with a BBW since her, either. But she sent me a picture, and she just had this really innocent look, which belied her true nature. She had big pouty lips, blue eyes, long blond hair, and a round, plump face. She lived near me, with her parents, and would come over whenever I wanted a face to fuck and dump a load down her throat. I would guess she probably weighed 320lbs or so, at a height of 5’5”. She was not shapely so much as she was soft and lumpy. The routine was she would come over, immediately get to her knees where I would have already put a towel down, and she would patiently sit and wait for me to feed her my cock. She had that look in her eyes that reminded me of a dog waiting for a treat – quick-breathed and wide-eyed anticipation no longer masked by her innocence. She was one of the most cock-hungry women I’d met up to that point.

She also liked being degraded. I would slap her about the face and tiddies while vigorously fucking her mouth, slobber dripping all down my cock onto her slabs of tits and pooling onto the towel, while I would just stream-of-consciousness spew the worst shit I could think of. I was like a Pentecostal priest speaking in tongues. I would come to after a vigorous session and sometimes not remember anything I said. I would always come as far down her throat as I could, because I figured this kind of opportunity does not present itself to you very often. I have to say shooting ropes down a woman’s throat, balls on her chin, with your hands interlaced behind her head trying to push her mouth through to your back, is one of the best feelings there is.

She would always get up and just leave when it was over. We really did not talk much or hang out. This happened a hand-full of times, and she would always remain clothed except for the occasional toplessness. Not even any tit fucking. Except for the last time…

Something came over me while she was on her knees in front of me, eyes watering and clear mucus straining to the limits of its elasticity before dropping to the ground, and I needed to fuck her pussy. I told her to turn around and unbutton her pants. She was on her knees, bent over doggy style, when I peeled her pants and underwear down over her large, white ass and half-way down her thighs. I could not see her pussy through the two mounds of flesh, so I slid my hand into the crevice and pulled it out glistening. I slid a finger in. Her pussy was like silk. I slid a couple of fingers in. I think I’ve triangulated the entrance. I figured doggy was the only way to logistically accommodate the PIV. I can still vividly remember trying to mount her. She had to be about three and a half feet wide, so I bent my knees to the right height to pound away, and spread my legs akimbo as wide as I could go, and thrust into the wet crevice where I thought the hole was. I think it was pure luck that I found the hole right away. She was a pretty solid base, so I could put my hands at the top of her ass to prop myself up while I pounded away at her hole. I can’t really remember if she came or not. All I can remember is thinking this is pretty fucking great, but god damn my legs are spread so far apart I can’t keep going like this for too long. It was like trying to fuck an air conditioning unit. So I turned her back around, shot a load down her throat, and she left.

She kept texting me again after that, but I ghosted her. I was starting to surf the landslide of the next ten years of fantastic fucking, and Amanda’s mouth was the start of it. I hope she is still out there somewhere getting her mouth stuffed with all the cock she can handle.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7t11eg/my_first_and_only_bbw_experience_craigslist