Fully Exposed to the Most Generous Beauty and All of its Opulence
(click for video which is (c) BigHotBombshells.com)
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.
(Photo is (c) bigbootyasshley.com)
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.
(photo is (c) bigcuties.com)
“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…”