Having Mercy

The guy in front of me in line was hot, the kind of hot you'd kill for. I stopped off at the grocery store for a pack of smokes but I never would've expected to see someone so attractive.

He took his wallet out and three coins bounced into the floor. Without much thinking, I went to bend down to pick them up. We caught each other's eye.

"Thanks." He nodded and stuffed the coins into his pocket.

I blushed. No guys that good looking would ever dare speak to me. I'm just a fat girl. Guys like him go after girls who look like super models.

"No problem." I muttered, in spite of myself.

He stood up and got a good look at me. I could feel his eyes sizing me up. There's a lot to take it.

At 245 lbs and 5'1, there's not a lot of places for my weight to go. It clung to my thighs, my hips, my tummy, my breasts, and of course my ass.

"The name's Roland. And you?"

I felt like it was a joke. Was Ashton Kutcher about to pop out of a cooler and say "Gotcha!" It just wasn't realistic for the guy to be even remotely interested in the likes of me. Even the cashier looked wary of the situation.

I slid my debit card and typed in the code.

"Not to be forward but," Roland grinned. "Do you think you'd wanna hangout?"

I was sure my jaw dropped. What was this guy's deal? Was I about to be cannibalized in his dirty old basement?

"When?"

Roland shrugged his shoulders. "How about now?"

I grabbed the cigarettes from the cashier and got out of the way for the group of bubbly teens behind me.

"Now? Uh," I stuttered. "I guess so. Yeah." I didn't have anything else going on.

"Cool. You wanna follow me? I only live around the corner."

We walked out into the parking lot as my mind raced with thoughts. Was this a mistake? It had to be.

I pumped myself up with some Billy Talent. He drove slow so I couldn't get lost if I wanted to and his house was only a block away. He could've walked to the store but who am I to judge? I'm a land whale.

I parked near the curb and followed him up the stairs to his apartment.

"You want something to drink?"

"I'll have what you're having," I murmured.

He told me to make myself comfortable then he disappeared into the kitchen. I took the opportunity to look around. His place didn't look like the apartment of a serial killer. Not to the naked eye. There weren't any tanks of acid or knives coated in blood.

I was mesmerized by the painting on the right wall above his loveseat. Black, sharp lines against yellow. Blunt and to the point. I couldn't look away.

"Ahh, the Mendoza. I picked that up last year. Cool huh?"

He handed me a bottle of chardonnay and a glass. "You look like a wine girl."

"I love wine," I confirmed. "Thank you."

I kept my eye on him. Still painfully aware of the situation at hand. Scared of what might be happening. At the same time, it made me hot to imagine all the things that could go on. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.

"So, Mercy." Roland poured himself a glass of wine too.

"So, Roland." I retorted.

He smiled at me sincerely. "Tell me about you."

"There's not much to tell."

That was the truth. Unless he wanted to hear about how pathetic and alone was. How I spent my nights holed up in my one bedroom apartment gorging myself with junk food while binge watching Law & Order SVU.

"I don't believe that for a second."

He reached for the remote and turned on music. Ramones, nice. Kicking it old school.

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a Ramones fan."

Roland smirked. "Well, Miss Mercy. Maybe there's more to me than meets the eye."

He leaned in to kiss me and I think I flinched. He automatically backed off, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

I shook my head. "Why did you invite me here?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Because you looked like someone I wanted to get to know." He said without skipping a beat.

I didn't know what to say. It was hard to fathom why anyone would want to get to know me.

"Are you a human trafficker?"

Roland looked extremely exasperated. "No. Jesus Christ."

I stared hard at him. He tried to kiss me. I'm 26 years old and I had only been kissed by two guys in my entire life. Once in the fourth grade by a kid names Damien. He was a soccer player and he got dared to kiss the fat girl. The second time, I was in high school. I was desperate enough to agree to go out with Brian Handler, my English teacher junior year. He was 35 and already balding.

"Why would you want anything to do with Me? I'm a fat ugly fuck."

Roland protested immediately. He scooted closer to me in the couch. "Mercy, you're fucking gorgeous."

It still seemed to be some sort of prank. I wanted to get up and flee. Just go and don't look back.

"I'm not." I whispered.

Roland kissed my forehead. "You are, Mercy. I can't even."

I eyed Roland down. "So you like fat girls."

He perked up and grabbed my hand. "Maybe... What's it to you?"

Before I could think twice, I climbed into his lap. The look on his face made up for my entire high school career of bullying from the two faced cunts. He sucked back air and then grabbed my face.

"Oh, Mercy. You're so fucking hot."

He stripped me of my t-shirt, exposing my huge DD tits. I wasn't wearing a bra because I left the house in a hurry, I always waited til the last minute.

Gripping my tits, Roland nibbled all over my neck. Next, he reached down and fondled my big belly.

I grinded myself against his crotch which seemed to turn him on immensely.

"Take it out." He said suddenly.

I got on my knees and undid his belt, pulling his jeans down his hips to display his thick cock. It popped out and smacked his belly.

He stood up and ripped my pants off. Pushed me back onto the couch.

"Jesus. Look at you. You're so deliciously fat." He rubbed his face against my underwear before licking over them.

I shuddered in pleasure from another human's touch.

"I want to fuck your brains out." In a single swoop, he snatched my underwear away.

Roland positioned his cock at the entrance of my soaked cunt, ramming it inside. He pumped it in and out, gripping my shoulders.

"You're a fat slut, aren't you?"

I groaned in agreement. "Yes, I am."

His thrusts go faster and his breath gets heavy. "Where should I cum?"

Without thinking, I grunt. "Inside."

He squeezes my fat hard as he emptied his load inside of me.