Fat Bottomed Girl/Chapter One

Fat Bottomed Girl

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Chapter One

I caught my first glimpse of her and her sister when they ran ahead of their mum through the car park and into the grocer’s. She wore these little stretchy grey shorts that sank into her fat bum crack and I couldn’t spot a knicker outline. They were so tight, she may as well have been naked… except for the color. A flesh tone would have been much nicer. The younger girl was a cute little waif about six years old, but the older girl was a very plump eight and her lovely bum jiggled sweetly as she ran. I have this thing about fat little girls and tried to burn every plump little detail into memory.

One of my daughter’s chums, Cindy, was about her age and size when I first met her. She was the first of her friends that I fucked and our relationship lasted until she moved away at ten. We both loved the girl and grieved the loss. She had the remarkable talent of making me pop a boner just by shaking her fat arse at me. The girl I just spotted definitely had willy’s attention and he was already trying to crawl down my trouser leg and acting like a divining rod as he steered me in her direction.

Mum was a real slapper, though, with her tattoos, nose ring and I could only imagine what else she had pierced that wasn’t visible when she was clothed. The six year old wore a frilly child’s princess type of dress and was cute but I much preferred her plump sister.

I lost sight of them after they went in, but after a few minutes, I spotted my chubby love on one of the aisles, closely examining a pack of biscuits. As I passed her, I said in a low voice that wouldn’t be overheard, “Wotcha, sexy?”

She jumped when I spoke, gave me a startled, wide eyed look, put the packet back on the shelf and backed up against it. I could feel her follow me with her eyes and before I reached the end of the aisle, I felt a tug on my sleeve and she asked in a sweet, lilting voice, “Did you mean it?”

“’Course I did, sexy girl.”

“Mum calls me a fat cow,” she confessed with her eyes drawn to the floor.

“Your mum should speak for herself,” I told her, “I think you’re gorgeous and very sexy,” and then quickly stole a little kiss.

Her eyes lit up and I believe I had made her day. If her mum ever called her a fat cow around me, I would probably smack her silly and threaten to yank out her nose ring. I wouldn’t really do that, but that’s how I felt. She followed in front of me while she held my trolley and I drank her in with my eyes. The side effect was the fair sized tent I had started to prop.

“I can tell you like me,” she said.

“How’s that, love?” I asked.

She pointed at my bulge which had become conspicuous and informed me, “Because of that.”

The girl was very knowledgeable for her age. I wondered where she picked up on it.

“So, you believe me now when I say you’re sexy?”

She nodded her head and confided, “Nobody has ever told me that before. Why did you kiss me?”

I took her hand and told her, “I like to kiss pretty, sexy girls. Hiya, I’m Al and to whom do owe the honour?”

“It’s Zara and you talk funny, Mister Al.”

“What a beautiful, magical name. Can I have another kiss?” Since the aisle was deserted I thought it was safe. She puckered right up and I planted a little peck on her lips, which made her shiver.

“Wow!,” she exclaimed, “I felt it down to my toes.”

“I felt it too and wish we could kiss some more, but not here.”

“Do you mean it? You really want to kiss me some more? I know where we can do it.”

“You do? So, tell me?”

“We could go in the toilets.”

“Maybe for just a minute or two.”

“I’ll tell mum I hafta pee in case she looks for me,” and off she ran, as fast as her chubby little legs could propel her. The best part was watching her bum jiggle in those tight shorts of hers.

Soon, she returned and practically dragged me to the toilets. Before she disappeared through the door, she instructed me, “Wait a minute, and then come in and latch the door.”

I waited the allotted time, went in and flipped the latch. When I turned, I found her seated on the bog with her little shorts around her ankles. I was right, no knickers.

She gave me a big smile and said, “I really had to pee,” and then she handed me the loo roll and asked, “Wanna give me a wipe?”

“Course I do,” I told her, took the roll and with shaking hands, tore off some tissues.

Having a gander at the holy grail was something I really wanted to do, but never counted on seeing it this quickly, much less having my fingers so near it. My cock pounded and leaked and my throat clenched to point I couldn’t speak above a whisper. She kicked off her shorts, leaned back against the cistern and spread her legs for me. Her fat clam was tightly closed except for the little keyhole slot of her pussy, with glistening droplets of pee on the lips and where it sprayed on her thighs and bum. I could just make out the dark brown pigment of her arse and longed to see it in all of its glory along with those big, cushiony cheeks.

I dabbed up the spattered pee, tore off more tissues, pressed them into the split and slowly dragged them through. Then she told me, “I always wipe two or three times.”

This time I didn’t bother with the tissues, slipped my finger inside her deep slit and ran it up to the top. Her stiff little clit pushed its hood out and I twirled my finger around it and made her coo like a dove, and then asked, “How was that?”

She bit her lip and smiled at me, saying, “That last part was super.”

“Stand up and bend over so I can see if your bum is dry,” and obediently, she bent over with her hands on the seat.

I dabbed up the spatters from her bum, and then pulled the cheeks open so I could see that most holy place. She was not the keenest wiper back there so I cleaned her up, and then planted a kiss near her little wrinkle which made her squeak.

“Do it again,” she demanded, so I did. This time I kissed her right on the little pucker and licked it, and she begged, “More, more.”

I kissed and licked it a bit more but I was worried about the time we spent here. It would not be helpful if we pressed our luck.

As soon as my confidence returned, and felt we could spend a few more minutes together, someone tried the door, and then pounded on it yelling in an unhappy voice, “Zara, did you fall in or something?”

“I’m having a poo, mum. Give me a few,” the girl hollered back at her mum.

“Put some wiggle on it before your sister wets her knickers. I’m leaving her outside the door while I finish up my shopping,” and then Zara rolled her eyes up in apparent disdain.

There was no way around it, we had to end our liaison very soon. She realized it also, pulled up her shorts, unlatched the door and peeked out. Her little sister was right outside, doing a little pee pee dance from foot to foot, so she dragged her inside with us. Then she rushed to the toilet, dropped her knicks and smiled at me while her pee splattered into the bowl.

“Ginny, would you like Al to wipe you, he does a brilliant job?” Zara asked her sister.

The little girl held the loo roll out too me and asked, “Would ya, mister?”

This scenario was all too familiar to me. When my daughter was that age, she loved for me to wipe her. Of course, she spilled it to her mates, and then they all wanted me to wipe them. How could I refuse a single one of their requests?

I accepted the roll from her, lifted her dress up to her belly and marveled at the prominent little hairless mound that was revealed. Since her legs were tightly shut, I eased them apart and her thin little lips opened right up so all of her pinky little bits were exposed. She didn’t have the spatter problem her older sister did and all I had to do was dab a tissue around her little pussy hole and she was all dry. Her smile became one of disappointment when I dropped the tissue into the water, so I ran my fingertip around the little hole and rubbed my way up to her tiny clit.

There was barely a hood around the sweet little nub, so when I touched it, she squeaked and clamped her legs together. I continued to wiggle my trapped finger against the bud, which brought her smile back. As much as we enjoyed this, we had spent way too much time in here, so I called a halt.

She puckered her lips and gave me a little peck on cheek, saying, “Thank you, Mister.”

I kissed her back on the lips and told her, “I love your little fanny. It’s beautiful.”

Then I stood and pulled Zara into my arms for a hug and kiss, telling her, “I don’t know if I will ever see you again, my sexy girl.”

Then I watched Zara and Ginny shuffle away, and there were sad expressions on all of our faces. They both glanced back at me several times as they went to join their mum at the queue for the checkout till.

I lived in a close of eight bungalows off of Main Road and Park Lane; which happens to lead to the our quaint, local park. This evening, I was not up for doing supper and decided to visit the little row of shops within walking distance that was home to a burger bar, chip shop/Chinese, off license and news agent. While I waited at the order window, someone rudely bumped me from behind and when I turned to spout a few choice obscenities, none other than my chubby darling from the grocer’s stood there.

“You should watch where you’re going,” I said in a light, non-threatening voice.

Zara looked up at me, smiled with wide eyes, and then squealed, “Al!” Before she threw herself into me and tried to squeeze me to death.

I hugged her and ran my fingers through her hair saying, “I didn’t believe I would ever see my sexy girl again.”

She looked up at me with tear stained eyes and said, “I really missed you.”

“Me too, love... me too. Do you live around here?”

She pointed up the street, telling me, “In the block of flats over there.”

The building had certainly seen better days. I dare say, I would hesitate to venture inside the squalor and my heart went out to her.

“I don’t live far myself. In the close near the park.”

“The park?” She asked.

“The very one. Do you go there?”

“Me and Ginny go there every day after mum leaves.”

“Wanna meet me there some time? I can pack a lunch for us or we could eat here at the chippy or wherever you want… even MacD’s. Although I believe the burger bar here is better,” and then I leaned down and in a low voice told her, “I really want some more of those sweet kisses of yours.”

She smiled and bounced on her toes, asking me, “Tomorrow? Can we do it tomorrow?”

“It’s a deal then. I’ll meet you in the park at noon tomorrow.”

She was excited and I was so excited I couldn’t sleep well that night. I ended up tossing off to the memory of Zara’s wonderful bottom.

End Chapter One

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