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Heavy Hearts (p2)

Kyla Wagner is a 30-year-old plus-sized woman who has never been in a serious relationship. Her self-esteem and past experiences with bullying make her reluctant to leave her comfort zone. When 32-year-old Owen Burkwell, an athletic and devilishly handsome high school P.E. coach, takes interest in her, she has a night of passion with him she'll never forget. Is this love or just a one-night-stand?

By CD TurnerPublished 17 days ago 12 min read
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Artist credit: https://www.artstation.com/tiagopalma

catch up: p1

Kyla stretched as she woke up to a ticklish sensation along her neck. Seeing a flash of messy dark hair, she deduced it was Owen's lips. His stubble prickled along her skin, reminding her how titillating it felt in other places. His hands were greedy in their tentative exploration of her body.

"Good morning, beautiful." he whispered against her skin.

She'd expected an empty bed by morning. They both got what they wanted, after all. But he lingered, still touching her like a man starved for affection. He was pressed against her, hot skin burning her own in a delicious, sensual way. He glided his hands over her hips, her thighs, her belly, teasing her with brief detours to the sides of her breasts.

Kyla moaned at the sensation and shivered as she felt the unmistakable hardness of his morning erection against her ass.

"Morning..." she cooed as she pressed back against him.

His hands grasped her breasts and she sighed as he massaged them and played with her nipples. She never knew she could get so much pleasure this way. Torrents of warmth flooded her center, making her clit throb.

"Such beautiful, responsive tits." he nearly growled, his voice husky.

Kyla was melting under his ministrations. His hand ventured down her stomach and slid between her thighs. She gasped as his fingers dipped into her folds.

"You sore down here, baby?" he asked her.

She did feel an ache within her, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

"A little. It's not painful." she responded.

He continued playing with her. She grew wetter as his fingers stroked her lower lips. He massaged slow circles over her clit. She groaned, her hips rocking into it. He dipped his fingers inside her, groaning as she tightened her internal muscles.

"Oh, yes, baby girl..." Owen purred into her ear. "Gonna get your pussy dripping wet for me. Are you up for my cock in you this morning?"

"Yes..." Kyla nearly begged, her walls clenching in anticipation.

"Good...wanna be inside you. Fuck, I'm leaking just thinking about it..."

Kyla felt more wetness escape her to his dirty talk and Owen grunted approvingly.

"Fuck, that's hot...you ready for me?" he questioned.

"Yeah..." Kyla consented.

She heard the shuffling of him putting on a condom. Kyla meant to turn over on her back, but he stopped her, keeping her back flush with his front as he spooned her.

"I can fuck you like this, baby girl..." he murmured, lifting her leg and hitching it over his thigh.

She thought it would be infantilizing, a man calling her "baby girl," but hearing the endearment roll off his lips in that sinful voice set her blood on fire.

Kyla's eyes rolled as his thick cock ground between her folds. He directed the tip into her awaiting entrance and they both made relieved gasps as he sunk inside.

"God...I love your pussy. So tight. Squeezes me like a vice..." he moaned. "Gonna fuck you good, baby."

He thrusted languidly, taking his time. Last night had been hurried by their lust, but he seemed determined to make this last. Kyla was in heaven, losing herself in the pleasure.

"Rub your clit for me, baby girl..." he demanded, his hands busying themselves at her nipples.

Kyla reached a hand down and stimulated her clit with her fingers. The combined sensations had her gasping as Owen increased his thrusts inside her.

"Gonna make you come all over my cock, baby girl..." he hissed.

Kyla squeezed around him each time he filled her and he groaned loudly in her ear.

"Oh, yes, baby...squeeze your pussy around me. Jesus Christ...fuck...so fucking tight..."

Kyla moaned louder and louder as the pleasure crested, losing control of her body and mouth. She trembled in his arms under the waves of building ecstasy and it was almost too much to bear.

"Come for me, beautiful girl..." Owen demanded. "Come around my dick, I know it feels good..."

She fell over the peak, coming so hard, her vocal cords only produced a strangled noise. True to his word, she came explosively, a gush of fluid dislodging him from her body. He filled her again, extending her orgasm and chasing his own.

"Oh, that was beautiful, baby girl...shit...gonna come..." he whined as his hips stuttered. Seconds later, he groaned as he filled the condom.

Kyla saw stars as she came down from her high. She'd never come that hard in her life. With a shock, she noticed the soaked sheets beneath her.

"Oh my God..." she panicked. "Did I piss myself?"

"No, baby girl. I made you squirt." Owen confirmed with a cocky smile.

He disposed of the condom. Kyla got up (with some difficulty - her legs were still regaining function) and went to the bathroom. She went back into the bedroom and stripped the wet sheets off, tossing them in the washing machine. She threw on a robe, expecting Owen to put on his clothes now and leave.

She went into her kitchen to find Owen in only his boxers cooking up eggs and bacon on the stove. While it certainly wasn't an awful sight to see, it was confusing. How did people handle one-night stands? Usually the other person left in the morning, maybe leaving their number behind for a future booty call. At least, that's what she saw on television. Now this talented, muscled man was cooking breakfast.

"Uh, sorry. I hope you don't mind me doing this." he said bashfully, scrambling the eggs.

Kyla almost laughed at his sudden nervousness. This man had just nearly dirty talked her into a mind-blowing orgasm and he was worried about some eggs.

"It's alright..." Kyla said, prepping the coffee machine. "Normally, I just have some yogurt and toast."

"Well, I think we need more protein." Owen smiled. "I have nothing else to do today."

Kyla blushed as his eyes seemed to smolder at her.

"I'm free as well." Kyla responded.

"Hope I'm not being presumptuous, but I can't get enough of you, Kyla..." he murmured, approaching her.

He kissed her once more and they quickly got lost in the passion until they smelled something burning.

"Oh, shit!" Owen swore as he returned to the stove.

They both laughed as Owen struggled to save the eggs. He only had a scrape away a few burned eggs, but their breakfast was salvageable. They ate swiftly and chatted over mugs of coffee.

"As much fun as I'm having...I need to go home and feed my own dogs. Maybe we could walk our dogs together sometime?" Owen suggested.

"Sounds good." Kyla agreed.

"I'll leave my number for you. Now, to find out where I threw my clothes." Owen said, going back to the bedroom.

Kyla sipped her coffee, hardly believing her luck. Owen could have been a predator playing her from the start. Hell, he still could be. All of this could be a ruse to lure her into a false sense of security. Somehow, she doubted this. He just seemed so harmless. She never had a man gaze at her so adoringly and lustfully. He was generous in bed and considerate. Kyla heard too many horror stories of men refusing to wear condoms and going ballistic when women kick them out.

Owen reemerged from the bedroom fully dressed.

"So, I was thinking...maybe I could take you on a proper date?" Owen offered, leaning over the kitchen island.

"Doing things kind of backwards, aren't we?" Kyla laughed.

He grinned. "I guess so. It's just...I feel something between us."

Those eyes again, smoldering yet gentle. The kind of bedroom eyes that mentally undressed you and saw into your soul.

"How bout dinner on Friday night?" he insisted. "Say, 7:30? I was thinking Florence's on 8th."

"Ooh...that place is really pricey." Kyla said uncomfortably.

The real reason she disliked Florence's because that was where her and mother had their obligatory dinner once a month. Helga Wagner was the very textbook definition of a narcissist. She bullied everyone to get her way, especially Kyla. She focused on Kyla's weight and implied she would end up alone, childless, and dying of heart-failure before she turned 40.

"Yeah, it is pricey. Uh...there's a wonderful Asian fusion restaurant near Barstow." he prompted.

"Oh, yeah. My office orders from there all the time. Sounds fun. I can't wait." Kyla said enthusiastically.

"I'll see you then." Owen grinned.

He gave her a last molten hot kiss, making Kyla want to pull him straight back into bed, but she bade him goodbye as he left her apartment.

***

Work the next few days was monotonous. She spent hours in her stuffy bullpen cubicle crunching numbers and working on spreadsheets. She often had the gridlines of the Excel workbook imprinted in her mind, haunting her nightmares. She didn't have to answer phones at least. This was a definite step up from a labor-intensive retail job. She hated the mandated standing all shift and soul-destroying interaction with rude customers. Her boss was kind of a prick at the firm but he rarely left his office.

Her coworkers near her weren't too bad. Natasha was a blonde bombshell who constantly got in trouble for her outfits, which Kyla thought was bullshit. She suspected it was the staff coordinator, Kimberly, who was older and more reserved. She was nice enough to Kyla, constantly inviting her to the potluck at their church. She treated the slimmer, younger women much less hospitably. Was it jealousy? Anyway, Natasha was curvaceous and wore perfectly acceptable business wear. Male co-workers would routinely stop by her office to chat. They avoided Kyla, which she was grateful for.

Or at least, they used to avoid Kyla.

Rodney Lafferty was an older man, maybe in his late 40s, who had thinning hair and a graying mustache. Kyla caught weird vibes from him, the kind of gut feeling that made her apprehensive when he was around. He carried himself like some kind of mentor when no one asked for his guidance.

"Hey, little lady." he greeted Kyla cockily. "How's your morning so far?"

Little lady? Kyla thought. Something you'd maybe say to a daughter, not a full grown woman you've barely spoken to.

"Hi." Kyla said awkwardly. "Not bad. How's yours?"

"Eh, not terrible. Hot pot of coffee and some doughnuts. Good for the mood, not good for my waistline." he chuckled, laughing at his own lame joke.

"Hey, Rod, I think Mr. Gramble needs you back in his office for something." Natasha said.

"Oh, well. Duty calls." Rodney responded. "We'll talk later."

He headed off and Kyla gave Natasha a thankful smile.

"He's such a creep. Just divorced his 3rd wife." Natasha stated, rolling her eyes. "He calls me Pumpkin." She shivers.

"Someone should alert HR about him." Kyla considered.

"Nah, they won't do anything. They're here to defend the company, not us." Natasha reasoned.

She laid back in her office chair, stretching out her long legs.

"They have all that money to put coffee machines on the 8th floor but not to get some ergonomic chairs." Natasha complained, rolling her shoulders. "Beats standing in some sweaty factory on hard concrete. My brother, Owen, tried to unionize at a food packaging factory and they canned his ass."

Kyla suddenly looked at the laminated name plate on the bull pen divider.

Natasha Burkwell.

Holy shit. This is Owen's sister. The dude I just banged. Small world. Kyla thought in a panic. Shit. Look natural.

Kyla hadn't even known his last name until she found his card he left on the end table by the bed. He'd added a note in black pen. I'll be thinking of your pretty face till I see it again, baby.

Kyla felt so awkward as she resumed work. When it was time to clock out, she ducked into the bathroom to avoid another conversation with Rodney. She finally managed to escape to her car and she grinned, putting on the radio. She sang along to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift while driving home.

***

Settling into bed for the night, Kyla saw she had a text from Owen.

Owen: I already miss you

Owen: I can't wait for our date

Kyla grinned as she typed her reply.

Kyla: Me either

Owen: my bed feels so empty

Kyla bit her lip. Was he about to start what she thought he was going to start?

Kyla: mine does too

Owen: keep thinking of that night

Owen: how fucking you gorgeous you were

Owen: how good you tasted

Kyla laid back on her pillow, reliving the moment of Owen between her thighs, his tongue working her to orgasm.

Kyla: I keep thinking your cock...so big. you filled me up so good

Owen: oh shit baby

Owen: can I call you?

Kyla: yeah

Owen called a second later and she answered with a breathy, "Hello?"

"Hey, baby girl." his husky voice issued through the phone.

He was breathing heavily and Kyla blushed, thinking of what he might be doing while talking to her.

"This is okay, right?" he asked.

"Yeah...of course. You just...sound so sexy." Kyla admitted.

He chuckled a little. "Am I making you wet, Kyla?"

Kyla slipped her hand beneath her panty waistband, confirming her soaked folds.

"God...wish it was your hand on me. You have such soft, silky skin." Owen told her tantalizingly. "Not as soft and silky as your pussy. Fuck...thinking about your tight, wet pussy gets me so hard."

Kyla stroked her folds, his dirty talk overwhelming her. He was managing to fuck her senseless and he wasn't even there.

"Next time we meet, I want to fuck you from behind. Want to see your beautiful ass bouncing as I pound into you. You have such a gorgeous smackable ass, Kyla." he said.

"I want to ride your dick..." Kyla confessed.

"Yeah? You want me good and deep in you? God, I can picture it...you fucking me, your tits bouncing, you moaning...shit...I'm close..." Owen hissed.

The thought that he was getting off to just the fantasy of her filled her with confidence. Her fingers massaged her clit in rapid strokes, the stirrings of her climax winding in her stomach, making her thighs shake.

"Wish I could see you right now...watch you play with your pussy...you'll have to show me sometime. Imagine I'm stroking my cock right over you, coming all over your tits and stomach."

This filthy thought sent her over the edge, her back arching as she orgasmed, moaning loudly for his benefit. She heard him meeting his end as well in one long strangled groan.

"Shit..." Owen commented, sounding exhausted. "I'm crazy about you, Kyla."

"I'm quite fond of you, too." Kyla said, yawning.

"Can't wait for our date. But don't be afraid to call or text me, baby." he insisted.

Kyla beamed, both the post-orgasm haze and elation of her deepening feelings for Owen.

He might be the One. she thought hopefully.

"Night, baby girl." Owen bade her. "I'll dream of you."

"Good night."

nsfweroticCONTENT WARNING
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About the Creator

CD Turner

I write stories and articles. Sometimes they're good.

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