An Ideal Husband SeXStoRY

Guys always stare at me, at my big knockers and booty. Sure, the ideal woman is supposed to be slim and look great in the latest fashions. But what do you think guys really want? Why are there so many magazines with titles like MAMMOTH MAMMARIES and BOMBASTIC BOOBS? Or DOUBLE-WIDE BUTTS and SUPER-SIZED SITTERS? Screw the latest fashions. I wear tight tops and tighter jeans, to show off what I've got. So with all the guys who are interested in me, when some shy little twerp came up to me at my favorite bar and offered to buy me a drink, my first instinct was to tell him to scram. But then I figured, hey, I got here early, nobody interesting is around, so why not let the loser pay for my first rum and cola? Right? So I patted the stood next to me and resisted the temptation to make a joke about how long a climb it would be for a shrimp like him or about how they would have to card such a baby-face. So he hops up alongside me, trying not to gawk at my contours, and signals for the bartender. That evening it was Turk, a tall Black guy who I like to chat with. He comes over and I can tell from his look that he's ready to chase the little creep away, if that's what I want. But I give him a wink and say, "My new friend here wants to buy me a rum and cola." Then I turn to my admirer and ask, "What did you say your name was?" He looks at me with these sad puppy eyes, like he's expecting to get smacked, and says his name is Willy. Okay, so I have to skip telling a few more jokes, the obvious one being to ask him if Little Willy has a little willy. Turk brings me my drink, he and I talk for a minute, and then Turk turns to Willy after making him wait, and says, "Can I get you something?" The loser orders himself a glass of white wine. I'm asking myself if he could have thought of anything less macho, like maybe a Shirley Temple with a paper umbrella in it. Turk pours him the wine and puts it in front of him, then stands there giving him a serious look. Willy catches on and reaches for his wallet. He puts a twenty on the bar and Turk takes it and brings him his change. I'm thinking it's time to ditch Willy so before Turk can hand him the bills I say, "That's your tip, honey." Turk ignores Willy and thanks me, saying, "Appreciate it, Kara." I brush back my long red hair with one hand and give Turk a smile. I'm sipping my drink and wondering how far I'll have to push the midget to get him to leave. Maybe I should start talking about how I'm a size queen, which is true, and that I'm not interested in any guy with less than eight thick inches. That's when Willy clears his throat, managing to sound like my little niece, and tells me, "I think you're really pretty, Kara." That's when I spot that bastard Richie coming in. I had been dating him and the sex was great, but we always got into fights and finally split, but then the the make-up sex was even better. Since we're on the outs again already, I figure I'll make Richie jealous. He looks at me and I put my hand on Willy's thigh, which just about gives the wimp a heart attack. Then I lean really close to him, so my rack is almost touching him, and say, in a sexy voice, "Thank you, darling. That's so sweet of you to say." Then I cup his weak chin in my plump palm and give him an air kiss. From the corner of my eye I can see Richie getting steamed. So I reach over and unbutton the top button on the geeky shirt Willy is wearing. He almost falls on the floor. Richie turns around and stalks right back out the door. I laugh. Turk laughs. Willy is clueless. And I still have to dump him. All of a sudden I get an idea. With a slight jerk of my head I get Turk to move closer so he can hear what I'm going to say. Then, just loud enough for the three of us, I inform Willy boy, "You know, we could go to my place and get to know each other better but there's one problem." His face gets really worried, like I'm going to tell him something terrible, and he says, very concerned, "What is it, Kara?" I squeeze his soft thigh and tell him, "I'm incredibly horny right now, but I don't feel like fucking." His eyes get big when he hears the F-word. "The only thing I want tonight is for some guy, like you Willy, to eat my cunt. I mean to go down there and stay down there until I say 'no more'. So I guess you wouldn't be interested." Right when he's supposed to start stammering and try to find a polite way to escape, he surprises me, and Turk too, I'm sure, by coming back with, "That would be fine, Kara." Willy takes a delicate swallow of his wine, for courage I guess, and goes on, "I would be honored to be allowed to... do that... for you. I honestly would." I'll admit it. That caught me off guard. I notice Turk is all at once very interested in a glass that needs cleaning. I tilt my head to the side and say, "Welllll...", with the wheels in my mind going around and around. Here's what I'm thinking. I love to screw. But I also love to get my pussy eaten. Love it! Except that when I'm with one of my stallions, one of the Eight Inch Plus Club guys, it seems like a waste to have them licking and sucking my pink taco when they could be laying pipe. So here's this useless Willy, except he might be good for eating it, and I can't see him trying to get anything else if I tell him he can't have it. Willy seems like he would almost rather go down than get in. Shit, that would be okay by me. I figured what-the-hell and told him, "Let me have another drink and I'll think about it. Might be sweet to have your head between my thighs and keep you munching carpet for about an hour or so. Sound good?" He got this look like he had just won the lottery and couldn't believe how lucky he was. Willy said, with his voice sounding like he was afraid one wrong word would blow the whole deal, "I would be so happy to do that for you. I would be... honored. If you'd like I could buy a bottle before we leave, whatever you'd like, so you could have a drink while I... did that for you." Was that too good or what? I nodded and took the last swallow of my rum and then ordered another. Willy hadn't finished his wine but I didn't really care. By the time I had downed my second one, I had made up my mind. I wanted to know, "Where's your ride?" "My...?" "Your car," I said rather snappishly. "Where's your car?" My bitchy tone actually turned him on. I was starting to see what the big picture was with Willy. He said that his car was right across the street in the pay lot. I'm used to guys who park on the street, even if it's a few blocks away, to save a buck. Cheapskates like Richie. Willy and I stop in the package goods section and I pick the most expensive bottle of whiskey they have, one that they keep behind the counter, along with mixer and three kinds of snacks. He pulls out his plastic and doesn't even blink as he signs the receipt. When we get to the lot I'm surprised in a happy way to see that he has a money car. I wouldn't like to make the payments on that one. Mind you, it's not a hot car. Real conservative. Probably picked it for the safety features. But still it's a money car. So he opens the door for me and I slip in, with him trying not to look like he's peeking down my top, even though I know that move. Most of the guys I go with not only ogle my hefties, but they say stuff like, "I'll bet you can't go without a bra" or "How much do those milkbags weigh?". You know, real classy stuff like that. So he gets in and starts driving and pretty soon we're out of the downtown area and heading into a ritzy neighborhood. More money. Willy the Wimp is looking better and better. He pulls up to this place with a stone wall around it and hits something on the dash that makes this metal gate, this big Addams f****y gate, swing open. Crap on a cracker! He is SO money. And he wants my ass. Or rather, he wants to kiss my ass, from the way it sounds. I have no problem with that. He rolls up to the front door, parks, and rushes around to open my side again. I could get used to this. I'd miss all those horse cocks I love so much, miss them in my mouth and pussy, but it would almost be worth it to tap his wallet for a while. And then I think, yo, why would I have to give up anything. Hello, Kara. How do you spell 'cheating'? But later for that. Right now I want to see the inside of stately Willy Manor. I take his arm like I'm a socialite in some movie and I can see he's thrilled to walk me inside. It's just the two of us inside his big expensive home. The place isn't huge but it's still way bigger than I'm used to. So he excuses himself to take the bag with the booze and stuff in it to the kitchen, and then he calls back to me to find out how I'd like my drink. I want to see more of his place so I holler back, "Let me do it. I know exactly how it has to be." The kitchen, no surprise, is as cool as the rest of the place has been. I make us both drinks, not bothering to ask him if he wants to stick with white wine, and make them strong. Mine is strong because that's the way I prefer it, and his is because I want to get him kind of tipsy, loosened up, so I can get a better feel for the way he thinks, the whole 'please let me slobber all over your slit' business, and get a clearer idea of how far I can push him and how much I can get him to spend on me. Like, jewelry much, or at least shopping spree for clothes much. I'm betting he'd like to go shopping for fancy lingerie with me in the big girl's boutique in the mall. And maybe a place I know that sells slutty shoes. Yeah, it's all good. So we sit on the sofa, some big old antique thing, and I make sure I'm close to him, and he's obviously not used to real drinks, and he's still nervous around me, so he repeats what he said before about me being pretty and how he wants to do whatever will make me happy, and he adds on that I shouldn't worry about doing anything for him. Inside I'm saying, 'Don't worry, little man, I'm going to be damned selfish and say tough shit to your needs'. I don't want to say that to him yet, even though I'm still thinking about how me being a bitch back at the bar got him excited. I ask him if he likes what I'm wearing and, after he says yes, I want him to tell me WHAT he likes about it. Listening to him fumble his words as he tries to say my clothes put my boobs and booty on display, without coming right out and saying it, gets me hot. I like having this weakling under my thumb. The idea of ordering him around is making me wet, like I might soak right through the front of my panties. That wet. My nipples are talking to me. Being excited from acting mean is a new feeling and I like it. So I interrupt him and say, "Willy, are you telling me that you've been getting off on looking at my tits and ass? That you've been thinking of having your hands all over me?" I make it sound like I'm scolding him and he gets scared and turned on at the same time. I stand up and look down on him, the drink making me reckless, not caring about if I blow the deal, just caught up by these new sensations and wanting more of them. I tell him, "You're getting me angry, Willy. I think you had better show me you're sincere. I think you had better make good on your promise back in the bar." I pause, like I'm an actress in some big scene, like I'm getting ready to say something really important, which I suppose I am, before I announce, "It's time to go to the bedroom, boy. It's time for you to EAT -- MY -- CUNT." Then, completely not caring about anything else, I grab his arm, which is way less developed than what I'm used to, not developed at all in fact, and haul him to his feet. My gamble pays off and he looks like he's going to cum in his shorts right then. But instead he manages to choke out a few words, telling me, "My bedroom is at the top of the stairs." We go into a hallway, which leads to an even bigger room than we had been in (I thought it was the living room but I guess it was what they call a sitting room, and this new one is the real living room) and on the far side of that room are these big-assed stairs. I'm still grabbed onto his arm but he's walking a step ahead of me, guiding me. I want to be the boss and for him to know it, so I move faster than him and start right up those marble steps, towing him along, thinking that he can get a good eyeful of my big rump where he is, he can watch those hams rubbing up against each other inside my jeans that fit like they were painted on. I'm imagining how exciting this must all be for him and how I'm controlling everything, and all that is getting me hotter than I've ever been before, hotter than a roomful of big cocks could, I'm guessing. It's good to be the boss. His bedroom isn't so big, like maybe he sees himself as a mini-man, so he picked a mini-room, or at least mini for this place. The bed, however, is king-sized. I stop at the foot of it and put my hands on my big old hips and give him this nasty, I'm-gonna-make-you-my-bitch look that he just eats up, and I tell him, "You didn't bring my drink. Go back down and get me my drink. NOW. And you can bring yours, too. Get moving." He races out like a scared rabbit and is back almost before he left, going as fast as he can but obviously afraid of spilling the booze, especially mine. He sets them on the night table, real easy like he doesn't want to make any false moves, and then stands there with his hands at his sides, waiting to be told what to do next. This is too much fun. I let him sweat it for a half minute and then snap at him, "Let's go. What are you? Lazy? Take my shoes off for me. Get me out of these jeans. NOW." He twitches. I sit on the end of the bed. Willy gets down on one knee, a regular Prince Charming, or maybe Prince Chump, and is super careful taking off my shoes, while I'm thinking about a couple of new pairs I'm planning to buy with his money. His hands kind of take too long during the parts where they have to be touching my feet. Jeez Louise. I'm all sweaty from having those shoes on and sort of smelly, but I notice him leaning near and taking a deep sniff, probably of the sticky stuff I get between my toes all the time. As he reaches up to unbutton my jeans I can see his fingers trembling. This is his naughty boy dream come true. Hell, I'M his dream woman, all cushiony breasts and pillow ass. He's in some sort of private perv heaven. Well, I'm not going to burst his bubble. I'm going to encourage him and get him deeper and deeper into it. I'm going to get him to the point where he can't say no to anything I want, in bed or at the mall, or else shopping on-line, and to where the thought of me dumping him will have him too upset to think straight. Yeah, I don't want him thinking clearly. I want to empty his mind of everything, like squeezing all the stuff out of a toothpaste tube, so I can fill it back up with what I want, fill it up kind of with ME. "Hey, stupid," I bark at him when he just kneels there, not sure if he needs more permission or something before he can undo my pants. I lift up my bottom and go on, "Do it dork. Get my ass uncovered now." As he begins to work down my jeans, I say, "I want my pussy bare so you can get busy with it. Get busy with your mouth. You do know how to eat pussy, don't you?" I had just figured that he had done it before but Willy got this blank look and said, "I think so." I switch to a quiet voice, all don't-you-dare-lie-to-me, and want to know, "Willy, are you a virgin?" He blushes and lowers his eyes before he admits, "Yes, Kara. I'm a... virgin." How messed up is that? All kinds of money and he's never been able to get laid. Bad for him but way good for me. I tell him, sounding almost kind, "Don't worry. I'll make sure you do it right." Then, turning back into Wicked Wanda or Evil Elvira or whoever, I say, "I'll make you work and work and work until you get it right. Or else. Understood?" He nods and this time he actually CAN'T find his voice. A pussy eating rich boy who isn't able to talk back. Yeah, I'll take one of those. I get creative and raise my legs, put my feet in his face, and push him over backwards. Then I stand up and get a bare foot on either side of his head, nice and close. I glare down at him and say, "You are going to finish taking off my jeans, remove my panties, smell my panties, and if you manage to get do those simple jobs correctly, I maybe MIGHT let you eat my precious pussy. Do you want to eat my pussy?" Off balance and not hesitating or censoring himself for a change, he confesses, "I want to eat your pussy more anything else. Please, Kara. I'll be good. Please let me eat your... precious... pussy." I smirk at him and order, "Pull these damned jeans down to my ankles. And do it right." I'm not sure what the WRONG way would be but I figure the more abuse I heap on him the more he'll obey. He finally gets those plus-size, wide-in-the-hips jeans down over my full thighs and thick firm calves. My legs really are shapely, just big at the same time. When they're down and I step out of them, he neatly folds them and sets them aside. I grab the back of his head and pull his face against my crotch. He moans, I suppose from pleasure. Right? And then I release him and, like he's in a spell, which I guess he is, Willy uses his thumbs and first fingers to take the waistband of my panties, pull it away from my skin ever-so-gently, and begins working them down over my heavy thighs, taking forever, either because he wants to make it last or because he's hypnotized by my body, but finally he has me naked from the waist down. I figure I don't need to have the rest of me uncovered to get what I want, and not letting him see my titties will be one of those small tortures that he must need and that I'm finding I love to give him. So there. I tell him, "Get naked for me. Then we'll begin your first lesson in Pussy Eating 101. And don't worry, boy. I'm one hell of a teacher." With that I flop back on the bed and wriggle myself up toward the huge fancy headboard, which is all hand carved, it looks like. I don't bother to close my legs. In fact, I spread them nice and wide to give loverboy something else to be hypnotized by. The helpless little virgin gawks at my red bush and pink lips as he struggles to get out of his clothes. His body is pale and just about hairless. I almost laugh out loud when I see his tiny penis and equally small balls. It takes a few seconds before I realize it's already hard. It's all the way up and it's still the littlest I've ever seen. No wonder he's still a virgin. I don't know any girl who would want that joke between his legs. No woman would want to get laid by that and no woman would want to marry it. That last thought gives me another idea but I file it away, eager to concentrate on right now and get my orgasms one and two and probably three. Like I said, I'm a great teacher, even though I'm used to guys who just want to suck my fat tits and then shove themselves in me, I can still make any guy better in bed. Sometimes after I split with one and he moves on to some girlfriend of mine, I hear back from her how good he is in the sack, and when I ask for details it's always the shit I've taught him. But, I'm thinking as Willy crawls up between my thighs and gets his face down close to my business, this will be a new type of education for me to give. I start out by saying, "Stick out your tongue, boy, like you're going to lick a lollipop." Willy does exactly as he's told. For the next hour. Through three excellent climaxes for me and no fun for him. At least not the kind of fun any other guy I've been with would expect to get. Instead, after he's followed every instruction exactly and I'm knocked out from an overload of pleasure, I tell him to move forward and hold himself up on his arms. He does, getting into the missionary position. Then I reach out and squeeze his nipples lightly, making him gasp. I keep that up until he's panting. Then I tell him, "All right. You did a half decent job. So I'm going to give you a reward. You may touch my perfect pussy with the tip of your miniature dick. Go ahead. Before I change my mind. And only the tip." He does it, obviously terrified that he'll get it wrong and have his privilege taken away. But I let him do it. I want to get him hooked on my body in every possible way. Why? For the money? Well, yeah, but my plans have gotten bigger since I saw his car and house. What I told him about no girl wanting to marry his tiny dick wasn't exactly true. I intend to marry it. I assure him, "You will never ever be allowed to put that miserable excuse for a cock into me. Understood?" He takes a noisy breath and says, "Yes, Kara." "But because I like you a little bit and feel sorry for such a lame ass, I'm going to keep going out with you and letting you eat my pussy. It's all you're good for in bed, isn't it?" He closed his eyes and agreed, "Yes. It's all I'm good for." Then, without being prompted, he added, "I will eat your pussy as much as you will let me. Thank you, Kara." No, I wanted to say, thank YOU, Willy, because once I have my hooks deep into you, right into your soul, I'm going to make you marry me and be my bed slave 'from this day forth'. And I won't have to miss all that monster cock that I love so much because I'm going to cheat on you, Willy boy, and tell you that I'm doing it, and make you go down on me after my dates and clean up the spunk guys pump me full of with your mouth. I'm going to own you and control every minute of your wimpy life because it makes my pussy clench just thinking about doing that. You will be my property and I will be your owner. Richie can me the Best Man at our wedding and he can fuck me cross-eyed in our honeymoon suite while you watch and, for all I care, cry your eyes out. Yes, Willy, we are going to have one amazing marriage. ******