After a few days with Zia Carmela I was going crazy. Carmela would nonchalantly walk around half naked exposing her enormous graces, subjecting me to the embarrassment of my own erections, as I was unable to do anything about it. What was there to do anyway? I was cursed with a wet dream of a Goddess that happened to be my aunt.
I started requesting hugs, just to feel the embrace of her soft body against mine. It was very much a bittersweet torture, but it felt so good to just press myself against her pillowy curves. The hard-ons I would get during those intimate moments were painfully mind-blowing. And it was just a hug! I purposely started wearing the softest sweat pants or pajamas — with no underwear! — just to feel my cock pressed into her spongy, wet fat thighs. She was extremely tall, and often times she was wearing heels on top of it, insomuch that my groin was at the same height of the fattest point of her thighs. And there, it was like pushing against a mountain of whipped cream. I never imagined a human body could feel so good.
Hug after hug, I would try to get friskier and friskier. The first time she hugged me, when my head naturally landed between her tits, I just stayed there motionless, enjoying the Flesh Heaven but afraid she would be enraged at me any moment. But she never was. So the second or third time, I started moving my head and nuzzling my lips into that paradise. The fourth time, I flat out opened my lips, just to feel her creamy boob flesh enter my mouth. She never gave me any signals that my behavior was unacceptable. On the contrary, she was trying to soothe me into thinking that I was just following my instincts, whatever they were. So it was ok. How can that be wrong, after all? Just let it go…
But in what wonderful abyss of perversion was my behavior leading me?
One day we were having lunch and the weather was scorching hot. Zia Carmela was wearing a bikini with a light thin garment on top, that was hardly hiding anything. Beside the fact that it was indecently opened all across her chest, I could see everything else as well. I was especially aroused by the huge mountains of flesh bouncing all over her hips at every step she was making.
I kept asking for more pasta, just to watch her walk around me shaking her meat in my face. The pasta dish that she had made had a very rich creamy sauce. She was just as juicy and full of the best nutrients. Each buttock looked like a bucket of water, filled to the top and splashing all over the place, with soft aqueous fat bouncing in and out of it.
Not to mention her mammelle. While she was sitting down watching me eat, her boobs were basically laying on the table right in front of me. The huge cow-like nipples were hard to keep concealed. Her chest was like a vast hangar stuffed with flesh and milk. As I was eating I kept ogling her boobs, making yummy noises and drooling like a toddler. She often smiled at me. Occasionally, she even opened her vest a little more, like a real whore. One time I think I heard her murmuring, “Aspetta, mi apro un po’ di piu’…, Hold on, I’ll open up some more.” I still wonder if she did that because she was uncomfortable or just to make me see how truly large she was.
I wasn’t trying to keep my primal instinct excitement down. My boner was shamelessly prominent. What was the point to hide it after all? How can a man not get excited when so much bulbous flesh is exposed in a sublime, endless tease? I just kept indulging myself like an animal, visually and culinarily. I wonder if she noticed or even care about how indecent I was. She seconded me calmly throughout our lunch.
When I was finally done she said, “Why don’t you go sit on the couch, I’ll bring you some dessert!”
Her voice was relaxed and warm, as usual, but had a subtle authority that didn’t go unnoticed. I went and sat down, not quite thinking that my huge erection was still there and I had nothing to cover it. However, instead of being worried about it I was just happy to feel like that. I wasn’t really thinking at any consequences, nor was I scheming for that matter: I was just going along with my instincts.
Carmela came back to join me on the couch and watch some TV. While she was walking toward me, I watched huge heaps of meat naturally jiggling all over her hips. Waves upon waves, step after step. At the same time, she casually opened another button of her vest. Seeing more boobs bouncing out at the same time pictured the most perfect image of seduction. My penis jolted in pleasure right when she was in front of me.
“What happened, dear?” she chuckled, looking at my boner. “Was my lunch that good?”
“Oh, zia… yes, it was… very, very good, really,” I sighed, with badly concealed lust.
“Oh good… I’m going to cook you the best possible meals while you’re with me, don’t worry! The richest and most nourishing food… for you, and for me, because after all… I need it too, don’t you think?” she added, putting a hand along her thigh.
“Oh yes, zia, yes…”
“I know… I think I lost weight, what do you think? I think my legs got smaller this year…”
“Well, I am not sure auntie, but your thighs look pretty full,” I mumbled, my eyes transfixed on the bumps of cellulite on her legs.
“Maybe I did lose weight… anyway, what do you think, should I make a richer, juicier pasta sauce?” she asked, resting on her left leg. As she did that, her thighs and hips continued to jiggle, like they were a large swimming pool of cream.
“Oh… it was so, so juicy…” I replied, eating her fat with my eyes. I was lost, excited and happy, and I believe she saw my carefree glee.
“What about my thighs?” she said with one of the sweetest possible smiles. “Are they juicy enough too?”
Her flesh jiggled everywhere, trembling like pudding as she adjusted her leg. “Oh yes… they are so beautiful… very well fed and… yes, very fat.”
“Oh, tesoro mio, really? You really think they are fat?” she said, with a slight bit of embarrassed pride.
“I love how round…. and meaty they are,” I added. I couldn’t help but to lick my lips.
With her usual confidence, she smiled back with love. “Awww dear! You are so sweet… I see you haven’t changed… you know, when you were a kid you used to run up the stairs just to slap auntie’s big thighs, you remember that? I think you liked the sound…”
“I did love the sound, zia,” I continued, slightly embarrassed.
“I always had big, fat meaty thighs, you know… and look, they have been getting fatter!” she said smacking her own legs joyfully. “Do you wanna… see Auntie’s big thighs?”
She asked that question like I couldn’t already see her ocean of flesh so indecently exposed. Before I could even open my mouth she had already put her giant leg on the couch, right next me. As she dropped it down, two hundred pounds of the fattest meat bounced and jiggled, smoothly like a big plastic bag full of water. Zia Carmela had accumulated so much lard on her thighs that opposing waves of flesh bounced against each other producing rich, splashy sounds. I never saw so much flesh jiggle at the same time.
Her thighs were the vastest deposits of cellulite on her body. I could see all these lumps of meat, these big, bulky bulges of fat here and there, all these cataste di lardo everywhere. Her lifted leg looked like a giant drumstick with a ton of meat. You could live on it for years.
“Here, have a look,” she said boldly and calmly. And warmly like a warm bath in winter. “Do you think I need more flesh right here?”
She sunk a hand into her inner thigh and grabbed a chunk of her abundance. I drooled like a hungry baby. The sole fact that she was referring to her already obese thighs as something in need of flesh, was a chant to Pleasure in every one of its forms.
“You look so healthy, zia,” I mumbled while staring at her.
“You think so? I feel like I could use some more meat down there…” she said. As she was noticing my perverted stare, the way she was looking at me changed slightly, becoming more welcoming and maternal, yet charged with sexuality. She gave me that kind of warm gushing smile, with a slightly embarrassed chuckle that she usually had when someone was doing something a little outrageous for her standards. A soft giggle that always inexplicably attracted me, for its cute embarrassment and voluntary complicity. I never met any other woman with that erotic charge. The softness in her chest jiggled indulgently.
“Dear, do you wanna slap my thighs like you used to? You know, after all I’m your zia, just like I was ten years ago. Now I am just a little fuller. Well, a lot fuller! Why don’t you try…”
I looked at that enormous prosciutto and slowly laid a hand on it. I started from her foot, and worked my way up along her long leg. Her ankles were relatively slim, thick and very solid, so as her calves, which were pretty muscular even if the actual muscles were hidden under a graceful layer of softness. In any case, overall her calves were much bigger than my own thighs. It was a strong, substantial and very harmonious foundation. I reached her knee, and ventured over the bulbous mass of her thigh.
It was so massive. I caressed the top of it, slowly but firmly. It was so splashy I could easily dive into it. There were bulges of pure lard everywhere, incredibly soft to the touch. I was completely overwhelmed. If I wanted to grab, I could grab anywhere. Even her knee was nicely padded.
And I grabbed. After a few timid touches, I squeezed her flesh like I was dealing with a pile of thick, fat steaks. She was fat like the Queen of an ancient African empire. I felt like I was a king in a harem of women who wanted to nourish me and hold me. And she was my harem, all by herself.
“So, do you like auntie’s big thigh?” Carmela asked, right before starting to shake her leg vigorously. It was like she wanted me to see how fat she really was. Without thinking about it, I slapped her fat thigh like she was a cow. But I think her thighs were bigger than any cow I ever saw.
Even if my hand was right in the middle of her thigh, she was still able to shake its pillows of meat, splashing them all around. My hand just happened to be in the middle. I could push and move a giant wall of blubber, an image of opulence I had never imagined. She was so fat and so proud. I squeezed her and slapped her fat silos of meat as I pleased, like a hungry hunter, pleasing my senses. The most beautiful thing was the enraptured glee in Zia Carmela’s eyes, a blissful joy in sharing her gorgeous, rare, unique beauty with someone. She was perfectly aware of her immense opulence: the only way to make it even bigger was to let me play a part in it. I dived into her ocean of flesh with my head, kissing everywhere I could, thanking her for being so fat. A giant wave of soft meat splashed right into my face, all over me. I never felt anything hard or bony, it’s like she was a giant never ending pillow. I opened my mouth and suckled her watery flesh, gently chewing it with my lips. I did that for as long as I can remember, completely abandoned to that pleasure. She caressed the back of my head as I burrowed my face into her lard. It was our private Opulence Dance.
“Oh dear, do you remember what you used to say? Aunties big thighs! Aunties big thighs!“, she said quoting me from many years ago. “You were so cute, dear… and now you’re such a big, handsome boy.”
“I still feel small next to you, zia…” I continued to gently slap her meat, caressing her. The feeling of her flesh shaking in front of me was divine. Carmela chuckled again, staring at me playing with her fat. “I suppose you’ll always be my little boy.”
END OF CHAPTER 5
Tags: asshley, belle coscione lardose, big fat thighs, big lizz, cajun big ez, Carmela, carne in abbondanza, cellulite, cellulite da palpare, cellulite dimples, cosce increspate di grasso, cosciona grassa, coscione grasse, culona grassa, fat curves, fat opulence, fianchi gonfi di lardo, opulenzia, piena di carne, udders, very fat hips, very fat thighs, warm sensuality