Archive-name: Amazon/bighips.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Hips out to Here!


               I

   Yup! That's what someone said when I told them about
you.   They said, "It ain't the size of the ship, but the
motion of the ocean."

   "Well," I had replied, "the ocean's pretty damn BIG now
aint it!"

   So it is with you now, as I see the splendor of your
ample form silhouetted against the candlelight.  True to my
Taurean birthright, I feel the power of the Dark Horned God,
consort to the Great Mother of the Universe.  You certainly
are born in her image.

   I see you slowly remove each piece of clothing,
deliberately pulling it as tightly around you as you can,
then letting go and sending these paltry textiles hurling
from your body with the forces formerly confined within.
Your breasts rest comfortably on your defiant tummy, which
thrusts  out  in  holy  revolt  against  all stifling
restrictions.  No one controls you, and that scares many.
But it doesn't scare me, as I sit there undressed, watching
your giant silhouette; for I know the ultimate love lies
within your spirit, unfettered by narrow minds.

   Your hips span from here to eternity, and they dance in
the darkness as you slowly saunter toward me, singing a song
of joy and freedom, making a barely audible pulsing baseline
of their own in the charged silence.  Your whole body is one
great standing wave, a fundamental vibration that sets my
heart atremble and my body shivering like a frail leaf.  My
mouth waters at all the tender flesh; it waves to me,
beckoning me to prepare for the quintessential meal.  I can
feel my canines growing in length by the minute, and my ears
grow upwards, and my moustache flair out into the most
delicate whiskers.  I am quivering ever more now, purring
like a kitten, as you walk.

               II


   Just to tempt me, you stop, then turn, and make for the
kitchen.  I rise and follow, to see what you have in store
for both our sweet tooths.  You produce the most exquisitely
rich and heavy chocolate and caramel pie in the history of
the universe, just as I strike from behind, sending my bony
arms around you, temporarily confining your freedom-loving
softness as it gushes out over and under my limbs, my front
pressed deeply into your pudding-like ass, my tool ready to
mine the shimmering gelatinous gold beneath your skin.  You
turn about in my arms, and my body has no choice but to bend
in a deep curve around your right hip, my hands just barely
clasped around your perfectly-sized middle, and then feel my
whole front blessed by the revolutionary belly.  A huge slab
of the pie is on a dish you hold with one hand as -
releasing the sterling fork with which you had given
yourself a bite of your own secret recipe - you expertly use
the other to find those secret places in between my
unbuffered ribs and the ounce of sensitive softness over my
steel-hard hips, humming a low melody of pleasure all the
while.

   I shudder with delight, as I take up one of my elfin
hands, so built for precision, and with the sterling fork
indulge myself in the mass of chocolate and caramel.  And as
you take your turn pressing your chubby fingers where you
know they will make their mark, you sensuously roll the
sweet dessert in your mouth.  How is it that you can look so
sexy when you're eating? Watching you enjoy the heavy
richness makes me ever more aroused.....

              III


   As the evening snack is finished between us, we walk
holding hands back out into the living room, where on a huge
couch before a roaring fire we explore each other.

   As we raise each other up level by level, you get an
idea in your head, which you voice enthusiastically.  You
tell me that we must make love in the bathtub.  I like the
idea, but I suddenly remember how little my bathtub is, and
the limits on the distance the door slides.  I tell you of
this, that it might be hard for you to fit.  You smile, take
my hands in yours, and say, "You're an engineer, I'm sure
you'll find a way."

   So hand in hand, we trek to the shower room.  I slide
the transparent shield just as far as it will go, and stand
by.  You slowly, sensuously but daintily place one foot on
the marble surface, and begin to wriggle in.  Wondering
whether I can keep control of my member long enough, I watch
my hands spring into action, applying pressure first here,
then there, as you work on into the shower.  The steel frame
creaks and your body growls in reply as your voice is marked
by long, sultry groans and your hands press on the window
from the inside.  Your flank presses flat against the rear
pane, and you begin to turn your yardstick hips to follow
the path, as my hands still work to provide the extra help
where it is needed.  And the defiant tummy warps in an ever
deepening curve as it encounters the frame.  And I press my
body further into yours, warping your flesh still further
and edging it little by little around the hard metal .
Finally it is done.  You are inside, faced sidelong as your
great hips' width ranges down the axis of the closed space.
And I step in, and wriggle into the small space between your
deeply curved ass - still a little red from the pressure -
and the wall.

   You turn just as much as you can, one hip impinging on
the long glass side pane, the other against the smooth tiles
of the wall, torquing your supple thighs against the
resistance, pressuring your right hip back, back, back, tile
by tile, until you manage an angle of about 30 degrees off-
axis.  Then you relax the tension in your lungs, and raise
your left leg onto the rim below the long side pane, evoking
yet another friction-shriek from the glass.  Those sounds
drive me wild, and combined with your very nearness, they
set my usually small-size erection straining painfully out
to touch you.  Just a few inches separate us.

   I reach around from behind, again closing my arms with
such sweet effort about your round waist and clasping them
tight to sink into your silk-tender belly.  Slowly, you move
backwards, until my own ass is pressed flat against the rear
pane, and your own flows around my front.  You slowly begin
to bend forward.  My fingers remain interwoven over your
tummy despite the new stress fighting back against them, and
your ass warps ever more around my slender frame.  Reaching
back with your left hand, you take hold of my member, the
longest it's ever been, and test it for its readiness.  I
arch my pelvis in response, push you just enough forward for
a moment, and thrust home.

   Or at least I try to.  But I quickly discover that you
are still not quite close enough to sink my entire length.
So you begin to torque your thunderous thighs again, and I
reach both hands over the flare of your beleaguered right
hip, and begin to crush it even further, tugging it ever
farther back across the tiles.  You growl fiercely as you
send repeatedly thrust your hip back, and the rolling fat
rhythmically squashes and relaxes.

   "Al....most.....there....", I grunt as I  continue
tugging, and trying to aim the member now lost to all
earthly sight just below your deforming hemisphere, and
thinking, "shit, that shower door's made good, it hasn't
even derailed!" And you moan back, "I'm TRYING....!" Then,
switching my grip to take the fronts of your thighs, I pull
you back farther, millimeter-by-millimeter.  Then, sensing
your now copiously seeping tidepool right above my cock, I
lower my body, aim straight up, and finally the connection
is made as you ravenously take me in.

   As you continue pressing me into the wall with the
quick hard thrusts of your right leg, the stormy waves of
your ocean crashing against the rocky cliffs of my own
spritely skeleton, we both sing ever louder, ever higher.  I
move along with you, playing with my fire, keeping a tight
hold  on  my  machinery,  until  your body gives the
unmistakeable signal.  You take in a deep breath, so deep
your vast body momentarily gets even fatter, and then like a
vice from hell you clamp down on me.  For a shining moment,
all logic leaves my mind, my body loses all strength, and I
drop my hold and feel my own flesh melt into yours, feeling
the exquisite pain and pleasure of the fundamental pulsation
that now has total control of both of us.  Your waves strike
with a crack against my skin, and the feeling goes on for
minutes as I feel every ounce of fluid leave my body at
hypersonic speeds.

   Finally, it is over.  I stand there, my legs too weak to
hold me, yet held firmly in place by your stalwart rear.  We
stay like this for a long while, as I run my hands over as
much of you as I can reach.

   Reversing your power, and with a mighty shove from
myself, you free your hips of the vice grip into which they
had been worked.  You wriggle forward, and turn on the
shower.   The hot water feels good, and on hands and feet I
squeeze around your calves and rise up to face you.  You
smile as we warmly embrace.

   The shower done, I proceed, this time from the inside,
to assist you in escaping the grip of the shower frame.  By
the time that is done, I am ready for more, and you are
happy to oblige.  We both saunter off to the bedroom, where I
lie on my back and feel your ponderous mass bear down on me.
You bend toward me, playing your tummy and breasts out
across me, and we kiss, and we again fill the pitch black
night with shrieks of delight.

   Finally, it is time to rest.  You roll over onto your
back, a heavenly smile on your pretty face, and your hair in
a wild rush across your eyes.  And I rest my head on the
defiant tummy, and sink into a peaceful, happy sleep.

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