Brownie and Sex

You find yourself standing staring at an ad on a bus stop across the street from the restaurant, the plexus glass keeping the advertisement safe is just reflective enough for you to see yourself but not detailed enough for you to view your pores. Your hands run down your black dress absentmindedly, feeling every lump and side roll, your protruding belly, above average breasts (Your feature you are most proud of.), all held up by thick meaty tan thighs, your long black hair creating a kind of half aureola around your body blending and mixing with blending in with your dress givingthe impression that they might be the same.

Breathing heavily you step away from the bus stop and towards the restaurant. You think you can see your date through the window, checking your phone you realize he’s five minutes early. A good sign. He’s cute but not obnoxiously so, a seven maybe an eight with the right hair cut.

You dart inside, the restaurant is relaxed, more of a bar atmosphere inside but mellow enough that you feel confident they make quality food. Your date is oblivious as you come up behind him.

“Hey Mark right?” you say sliding into the seat across from him in one fluid motion.

He is startled, shocked even, you have a moment of panic thinking you might have the wrong guy, images of an angry wife bursting from the restroom high heels held like battle axes charging for your head flash across your mind.

“Yea that’s me. Sorry you just startled me,” he says coming back to himself lifting his water glass before his face creating what he thinks is a sly cover for his grimace.

Shit, you think seeing what is happening, and can’t help but wonder if he realizes water is translucent.

“So too big?” you say hands held out in defeat.

Mark looks at you a raccoon caught digging in the trash, “No its not that, its just that I-”

“Shut up,” you say knowing how this is going to play out, tired of it playing out like this over and over, “be straight with me, I’ll understand just tell me if I am too...fat for you. I won’t be mad.”

“Really? I mean I know you said on your profile that you were heavier but I never imagined,” Mark gestured to you with his free hand as a flood of relief hit his face. Guess you were wrong about the obnoxious part...

“No you fucking jackass!” you looked around wishing you had a drink to throw in his face, “Your a fucking ass!” You stand up but before turning to leave, “And word of advice, don’t put things like I like junk in the trunk or thicker is fine with me if you can’t handle this!” you say grabbing your stomach pushing it together so he can see how big your belly is before letting it drop. You weren’t entirely sure what the point of that last part was but it felt dam good.

The next twenty minutes or so flash by quickly for you. You have a vague memory of getting in your car plugging in his address before erratically moving thru traffic and coming to his place.

“Fuck,” you say twirling your hair like a motorized dreidel. A visage of yourself in your rear view mirror shakes it’s head. “I know!” you yell to yourself getting out of the car and approaching his front door.

He answers quickly, “hey what are you doing here?” he says propping the door open with his leg dusting cookie crumbs off his bare chest.

“You know your just dusting them off into your pants right?” you say looking at his chocolate smeared Christmas pajamas.

“Yea but,” he stopped his mouth agape. Just by looking at him you can tell he’s at least a joint into his night. Still his jaw hitting the floor at the sight of you is welcome tonight.

“Just let me in,” you say pushing inside. He offers no resistance, slumping down onto his run down couch.

“You look nice,” he said packing another bowl. “You want some?” he said offering up his octopus bubblier.

You consider shattering the glass pipe just to break something, the adrenaline from earlier still pumping thru you, with a big inhale you are able to take the inanimate octopus from him without violence.

“Where’s the lighter?” you ask slumping down next to him.

“Here you look like you could use some love?” he said handing you his black lighter emblazoned with hearts and the word “LOVE” in bright pink letters.

“I went on a date tonight,” you say in between inhales.

“Than why are you here?” he said turning to you, judging by the red veins in his eyes you adjust your estimate to at least three joints worth of weed tonight.

“Well he, we,” you look back at him, his shoulder length brown hair lightly kissing his collar bone, cold sweat dripping down his chest making you involuntarily lick your lips.

People always talk about beer goggles but weed goggles were more the fashion of your generation

“Ah that sucks. I’m sorry about that. Anything I can do to help?” he said annoyingly sincere.

You knew what you were going say, what you came over here for and why you came here.

“Brownies?” you said biting your lips.

“Dark chocolate or extra chocolate chips?” he says replacing the bubblier in your hand with the TV remote.

“I’m in a pretty dark mood so, dark chocolate I guess?”

“Coming right up,” he said strolling his small kitchen. You can hear him getting out ingredients and the familiar beep that signifies the oven beginning to warm. “Find something to watch will ya? I’m feeling natury something, unless you have strong objections?”

You flip thru several streaming apps before finding a documentary about African Wild Dogs, “how do you feel about wild dogs in Africa?”

“Sounding cool,” he says grunting slightly as you hear him open and close the oven door.

“Alright should be done in about forty minutes,” he says sitting back down on the couch a round bowl splattered with brownie batter and a dripping whisk inside. You quickly do some mental calculations and reason that if you start soon you could be done just as they get out of the oven.

The documentary starts as he whips the whisk close to your mouth, a move so practiced he doesn’t even need to look at you.

“Why are guys such dicks about weight?” You ask before taking the whisk.

“Your failing the Bechdel test you know,” he says focused on TV.

“Whatever,” you say stealing the bowl from him, “fuck your test I want answers damn it!”

“It’s just because we, I mean the male subset of the species, are as insecure as anyone. They don’t have a problem with your body, they probably have a problem with their body. Or are too busy chasing some ideal to get to know you. Or their just idiots, I don’t kno- Oh shit!” he said jumping as the dogs on TV brought down some sort of hoofed creature that reminded you of a deer.

Having heard what you wanted to hear you swing your legs across his lap and sit facing him.

“Want any?” You ask holding out the whisk.

He shakes his head in response eyes still glued to the television.

“You sure?” you say dripping a trail of batter up your leg.

“Nah I’m goo,” he stops seeing the trail of chocolate, “I guess I could have some.”

You gentle put the batter and whisk on the floor as you feel his warm breathe tickle the hair on your leg, you close you eyes and lean back, biting your lower lip in anticipation.

The tip of his tongue is the first thing to touch you, than his whole mouth sucking on your flesh like a hungry leech leaving not a morsel of desert on your skin. Up your leg he goes, a trail of saliva proof of his journey.

“Yup like that, okay keep going,” you say weaving your hands thru his hair pulling him ever upward.

You feel around with your free leg and find to your delight that he had grown enough for him to fill you right now, you felt moisture gathering between your legs, you wish you had taken off your underwear before coming inside but it was too late and besides he could work around them, than you feel his hot breathe tickling the hairs on your vulva, he takes a big inhale like he could suck all the moisture straight from your sex, than his nose is brushing against your clit as it enlarges.

“Holy hell,” he says coming up for air his hands working frantically to pull your underwear off.

“Sorry I should have anticipated,” you say as the cotton undergarments tickle your feet before he tosses them behind his head. You giggled knowing that he did every time and how annoying it would be to find them later but finding it adorable non the less.

Your legs barely had time to begin their decent from their upright position before his tongue was gracing your lower lips. His tongue started from the bottom of your slit and pushed its way up before ending at your clitoris. His tongue began to make counter clockwise motions pulling and twisting and licking your clit as you rocked on a sea of sexual pleasure.

His usual moves were to do this for awhile than work his way up to your face with a trail of kisses before positioning himself to enter you. You expected this, in fact it had been what you’d planned to happen, this was why you were here for the routine. Tonight though you felt the soft skin of his finger and smooth surface of his nail as it pressed its way into you.

An audible gasp left your lips as your toes curled. To felt the corners of his lips turn upwards between your legs than his finger started going in and out, in and out, slowly at first but gaining speed, than slowing he put another in this one longer, forward and back went his two fingers, sliding in and out, you felt the nail of his thumb press against your sex just begging to be open like the gates to an invading horde. He began moving faster and faster again his tongue always keeping pace, than slowed again, his licking shifting directions so he more a thirsty man jacking a pump to stave off dehydration, than he slowed again, pinching your clit between his lips and than sweet sweet sucking, you knew what was coming but still it surprised you sending shots of electricity coursing through your body, than their were three fingers in their, no true substitute for a penis but as good as any toy better even than some, his fingers began plunging in and out, back and forth, a soaked trident plunging itself deeper and deeper, had your eyes been open they would have rolled back into your head, you than felt his free hand begin to snake up your body, you had forgotten it had even existed, fondling and caressing the whole of your torso causing you to rile in pleasure, than he was massaging your breast paying particular attention to your perky breast, you cupped the other with one hand while the other lathered him your perspiration and wafting him in your musk, maybe it was the new thing he’d tried, maybe you just needed release, maybe it had been because you’d held off for the last three days in anticipation of a date that had gone terrible wrong, maybe he was just a tinder and giving lover, whatever it was you felt your toes than stretch as your legs contorted and nails dug into his and pinched your nipple as your body convalesced and shivered in ecstasy as an orgasm swelled out from within you ripping through you a loud moan escaping your lips, before you fluttered down to the mortal plain.

A beeping alerted you to the completion of the baked goods as you left your sex fog.

“I feel bad for asking but can you get them,” you say sleepily.

He moan unintelligible into your vagina the sounds crashing across your sensitive body like waves. You look down to smile at him but find him squeezed between your thighs with no way to leverage himself out.

Lifting him up for breath and sitting your self up you say, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” you kiss him softly on the cheek and forehead, chin, cheekbone, cheek again before finally his nose, “I’m such a jerk and after you did all the work,” you rub your nose against his in a sign of affection.

He puts one hand on your shoulder, “no you are not a jerk,” butterflies flutter in your stomach a smile crosses his face, “your a terrible person,” he says smirking at his own joke.

“Go go, get the food. I’ll restart it,” you say gesturing to the kitchen.

As you hear him cutting the brownie into smaller squares and pouring two glasses of milk you rewind the program on Africa Wild Dogs. You had thought he’d only been down their a few moments at most but are impressed to see that he’d spent almost thirty minutes down there.

“Do you ever think about us going out?” You ask cursing yourself once you realize what you’ve said.

“Yea but come on. You don’t want to date some stupid warehouse worker like me,” he says placing the two glasses of milk and efficiently stacked plate of brownie squares between them.

“You know I don’t care that I make more money than you right? Besides it would be good information I could weaponize to emasculate you in front of other people,” you saying putting a brownie into your mouth.

Your roll your eyes at how delicious they are.

“I can’t or won’t or whatever. I don’t know I don’t really want to talk about it. Can’t we just learn about this cool dogs right now instead,” now his turn to shovel brownies into his mouth.

“Yea your right, sorry,” you say not really feeling sorry but content for now in your routine unwilling to rock the boat. Besides brownies and good sex weren’t anything to be ashamed of, most woman would kill for that. Still you couldn’t help but want more and knew that soon you’d probably be out on another date soon only to end up back here, which wasn’t a bad place to be… Your thoughts continued to spiral like this as you two watched the documentary exchanging banter and shoveling beautiful squares of chocolaty goodness down your throats. That was of course until you were ready for round two.

All tips go directly into the JR Stine wallet fund and will be used by the owner of said wallet at their discretion.