Archive for the ‘ssbbw’ Category

Chocolate Pear si è ingrassata!

October 4, 2012

Mercedes ci informa che Chocolate Pear si è ingrassata ancora. Era già di ragguardevoli dimensioni, con grassissime curve mozzafiato. Ma ora lo è ancora di più. Osservate la “vecchia” Chocolate Pear:

(images are (c)

E ora ammirate la “nuova” Chocolate Pear

WOW! Questo sì che e’ un ingrassamento! Notate le dimensioni delle natiche, davvero spropositate. Ha accumulato talmente tanto grasso che ora il suo sedere è piu’ alto del resto della sua schiena! Una così è da nutrire costantemente, non c’e’ che dire…. vien voglia di avvicinarsi con un vassoio di cannoli alla crema, per poi imboccarla lentamente mentre con l’altra mano le si da una bella manata sui fianchi, affondando le dita in quegli otri di cellulite. Voi cosa le fareste a una culona così?

BoBerry at School, showing her very fat thighs

September 11, 2012

(the image is (c) of

BoBerry!! Lift your skirt up some more! Teacher’s orders!

Everybody should see the beauty of cellulite!

Farrah Foxx and her incredible softness

June 13, 2012

(photo is (c)

It’s been a while since I last spoke of Farrah, the sweet goddess endowed with the softest curves. The truth is I think about her a lot, often times before closing my eyes to go to sleep. Her smile and stare melts me. It’s this torrid look of a real woman who really, really want you, that can give you an abundant amount of pleasure and asks back all of you, all your love, body and soul.

I love thinking at her marvelous thighs and all that flesh. They are big and fleshy thighs, they look squishy and soft. My desire is to caress the inner part of those thighs, sink my hands in there. Massage her. There so much cellulite. She is so rich and opulent. I wanna squeeze her meat gently and hard, I desire every ounce of her. I love how dimply she is.

And yes, I love her smile so much. It’s sweet and maternal, and erotic and lustful at the same time. That’s her peculiar beauty, to my eyes: nurturing health and comfort on one side, and on the other the pure-sex look of her body, full of curves everywhere. The body your mom would disapprove of. Too much hips, too much thighs, too much bust. A young man can lose his mind for a woman who can keep you warm at night, and busy all along as well.

I for one would like to cook for Farrah. I have a dream. I dream of her coming to my place after work, dressed in a form fitting business skirt that does nothing to hide the bumpiness of her curves. She asks me to cook her something rich and full of calories.

“Like that pasta dish you used to make me,” she says.

I ask her, “is that the one with heavy whipping cream, prosciutto and peas?”

“Yes, yes! I want that cream-sauce pasta, with the fat prosciutto, I need it… I want to make my thighs a little fuller than this,” she says, lifting up her skirt on one side.

The most beautiful, dimpled thigh emerges. It’s fat and bumpy beyond belief. Mounds of the softest cellulite are everywhere.

She starts talking about her day and complains how small the sandwiches are at the cafeteria at her job, while I can’t take my eyes off her leg. It’s just so beautiful. She notices my stare, and smiles.

“You like them big, don’t you?” She runs her hand from her knee up to the hip. Her fingers easily sink in into all that fat. “You can’t stop looking, can you?”

“I really can’t,” I say, running my tongue on the inside of my mouth and on my lips.

“You wanna put those lips on my thighs, baby?” She walks up to me lifting her skirt even more. “Look at how it jiggles.”

Her thighs jiggle as if they were shaken by a seaquake. Her hips bounce and splash like a hanging lake of whole milk. I kneel down to her and dive into her thigh with my whole face. It’s wide and soft.

“I love your fat thighs, sweet Farrah, I wish I could kiss them every night…”

“You can, sweetie, you can,” she reassures me. “Pull down your pants so I can see you.”

I stand up, undress, and show my shameful reaction to her. “I love you, Farrah, I love you so much…”

“Oh, you are so sweet, come here… you love auntie Farrah lot, don’t you?”

“I do, my queen, I do…” I reach over to hug her, but my hand stops on her hip, as if it was the most natural thing to do. I stare into her eyes, and with a whisper I say, “I do, I do…”

She hugs me back, letting my hand stay on her hip. Her plump belly touches mine and her boobs softly poke my chest. Our lips meet. And our eyes are locked onto each other.

I kiss her lips, belle succose come fragole mature, and as I stare into her eyes I start caressing her hips. Fondling them. Squeezing them.

“You like my big hips too, don’t you? My big fat hips. They got fatter not too long ago… in fact, this skirt is so tight right now. Do you want to see all my meat?”

“Bella grassona, che bella che sei Farrah, how beautiful you are…”

“Here, how about this?” Her skirt goes off, and she stands in front of me. Her hips are wide and massive, and her thighs covered by bulging layers of cellulite.

She walks toward me again. “D’you like my fat, baby?” It’s like she is offering me those big maternal curves.

I grab them and push myself toward her. “So fleshy, so full and beautiful… I love to hold you by this giant love handles.”

She is so much wider than me.

“Oh yeah, baby, squeeze my booty, squeeze it…. you love this big ass and these fat thighs… all that pasta that you feed me, and mortadella, and cheesecakes and… you know, if you keep feeding me, I’ll keep eating.”

“Sei una cosciona grassa e larga come una bella maialona, Farrona.”

“My big thighs keep getting fatter, you wanna feel?”

She pushes me back and makes me sit down on the short stool behind me. Then she steps forward opening her legs around me. My cock get enveloped by her thighs. She squeezes them one against each other. I can feel her lard pressing against my penis, massaging me slowly. That’s what she meant by “feel them.”

I grab her hips again, inviting her onto me. I want to be her King, and give my Queen all my love, everything I have. I love to feel my entire body surrounded by her huge hips, I love to bury myself deep inside them.

“You like all that flesh around yourself, don’t you? Can your girlfriend give you this much?”

I love a woman that flaunts how plump she is. “No, she can’t,” I responded. But then I quickly corrected myself.

“Actually, yes she can…” I stared into her eyes. I tapped on the upper part of her enormous thigh and grabbed two big chunks of flesh, holding and pushing myself into her.

“Mate with me, dear, fuck me….”

“You’re so maternal, and sweet, Farrah, and large, full of flesh… I love you so much. I love you love you love you…”

Hips, buttocks, legs, every single crater of cellulite.

Everything was jiggling.

The most incredible softness.

The most amazing smile.

An imposing, statuesque figure.

Farrah, the Queen.

OPULENZIA: the Eighth Chapter

May 20, 2012

Fully Exposed to the Most Generous Beauty and All of its Opulence

Zia Carmela è davvero molto, molto grassa, molto generosa di fianchi... (click for video)
(click for video which is (c)

Previous Chapter

My big, fat aunt Carmela always wanted to give me everything. It’s amazing how sweet she was. From the soft tips of her wide hips — engorged with layers of cellulite — to the warmth of her womb, she was and had always been beautiful, charming and, most importantly, abundant. Her cuddly arms. Her huge udders full of milk. Her hips, so wide and deep you could have a whole meal on them. And her thighs, long and thick like the columns of the Parthenon.

She was always showing so much skin, too. Miniskirts, bikinis, daisy-dukes. Even in winter, her legs were always bare. Sixty inches each, if not more, with bumpy craters of cellulite everywhere. Ah, the abundance of Royalty.

Le coscione molto grasse della zia
(Photo is (c)

And now, with all that softness, my fat aunt Carmela was hugging me, wrapping the lard of her legs around the hardness of my body. All around me. She was an ocean, lulling and washing my fears with the vastness of her big, curvy waves.

She was on top of me.

“Do you like my… flesh, young man?”

I reached over, with both hands. I rested them on top of her thighs, comfortably. My hands sank a little, gently dipping into her soft pillows of flesh. Her body was like water. I opened my palms on that obese vastness to just let my fingers dip again into the warm, buttery meat.

“Bella cosciona, I love your fat.”

I indulged myself, humping her as I was grabbing her. I loved the feeling of her cellulite in my hands. She was so soft. I kept squeezing her flesh carelessly. She smiled, almost encouraging my indulgence. I loved her smile so much.

“Do you like the bumps of my cellulite, dear?” She could be such a teasing whore sometimes. “Do you know that it’s all fat?”

She pressed my hands deeper into her flesh. “All fat,” she proudly stated with the same teasingly innocent smile.

She rubbed my hands back and forth into the softness of her huge thighs. Her legs were doughy and squishy and felt incredible. “It’s all cellulite. All of it… yes, squeeze, stringimi le coscione, you like all this fat, don’t you? It’s all over my thighs, and on my hips too, look how much there is up there… tap on it. It jiggles so much…”

“Ziona cicciona… I want to buy you more mortadella…”

Squeezing her hips felt indeed like handling huge piles of mortadella, the really fatty one that melts in your hands.

“Oh yeah, mmmh, mortadella! I love it so much! It goes all there… it just keeps piling up…”

She must have had one hundred and twenty inches of hips, if not more. Le sue cosce erano delle mortadellone da 100 kg l’una, grasse da far paura. I wanted to feed her an entire log of mortadella.

“Bella cosciona, you are so fat…” I slapped the soft mountain of meat on the side, making it jiggle in huge waves of cellulite. It felt good, just like splashing your hand in a bucket full of water.

“Yes, you like that, uh? You know what I want to do? I want to walk with you downtown, in a bikini. Or if not a bikini, a very light dress… tight… it’s summer after all, and if skinny girls can do it, why shouldn’t I do it too? Plus, il culone della zia jiggles all the time… you know that, right?”


“All. The. Time. Every single step.”

“Ma sei proprio grassa, allora.”

Eh sì… specialmente i fianchi, mi s’ingrassano di continuo, son carichi di cellulite… My thighs are all fat, too.”

“Bella culona grassa, come sei bella zia con tutto ‘sto lardo, davvero…”

“Oh dear, you are so sweet! I got fatter recently, you know… nothing fits anymore. Maybe I’ll have to wear a bikini after all, at least I can make that fit somehow!”

“How, ziona, how?”

“I’ll just have to let my slips sink into me, what can I say… So come on, let’s stroll tomorrow to the piazza together, and hang out in front of the church. Right when people leave mass. Yeah, and of course you can squeeze my fat in front of them… Yes, just like that, squeeze me, dig in, let them stare… I want everyone to know how much fun you get to have con la tua ziona grassa. I have some friends I want to introduce you to, also… other very opulent women, you know. Ecco, bravo, weigh my meat, grab it, show it to everyone…Is it squishy or what?”

Before I could even answer, she started shaking her hips, slowly.

“This is what I mean,” she added, with one of her shyly mischievous smiles.

They jiggle like a sea of olive oil. One giant sea of flesh, spanning from left to right, infinitely. And for all that mass over there, her boobs bounce back, in sympathy, jiggling right on my face. I think of that movie, L’Iniziazione with Serena Grandi. Buxom Serena was so small compared to my very endowed aunt. Carmela is a pagan temple, maybe the temple of Juno, and I was about to be initiated by the Goddess herself, embodied in that much body.

I fianchi obesi della zia
(photo is (c)

“Fat, fat, fat,” she said slowly, almost in a motherly chant. “Fat, fat, water, and flesh…”

“Grassona…” I told her calmly and boldly, “Culona, cicciona…”

“Huge, yes…. I am a big, big culona. I’ve got a big round one, and hips, look… I have heaps of meat on them, soft, fatty meat… I am wide, full… fat, fat, fat…”

The magnificence of Jenni’s very fat hips

May 2, 2012

Jenni's opulence
(photo (c)

L’ampiezza di quei fianchi è veramente da fine del mondo. Gli slip che si insaccano nel lardo, le montagne di cellulite, la profondità del culo, le morbide insenature della vita… è una dea da venerare e coccolare, accarezzare e nutrire, nutrire molto…


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