Fully Exposed to the Most Generous Beauty and All of its Opulence
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…”
I kept looking beyond her waist to the vast, giant lakes of jello shaken by those big waves. She didn’t just have a shelf booty. She had a whole table. With two large capacious amphorae filled with the richest goods.
“fat, fat, fat…”
“Oh zia Carmela… bella, grassa, tantissima, fammi toccare…” I literally felt my penis getting harder and harder as I was making my way into her, pushing pounds of whipped cream aside. Every once in a while I would regroup my strength, grab her hips and push as hard as I could, only to be well received by Carmela’s curves, acting as cuddly water pillows.
I was fucking this huge mountain of woman. I offered her all my love and passion. I didn’t expect anything in return, but she was giving me her enormous hips, and she looked pleased when I’d grab them to fuck her as hard as I could. I thought at my girlfriend, who would sometimes complain if I was pushing too hard, almost offended that I’d fuck her as if I was an animal. And I smiled, looking at my gorgeous aunt, completely OK with me pounding as hard as I wanted and grabbing her meat like a cow.
To grab her by the hips was especially divine. I kissed her on her chest, enjoying the squishiness of her belly too. I slapped her fat thighs and pushed some more. I couldn’t believe I realized my dream of mating with Carmela.
“I have more flesh, don’t worry…”
She looked at me and smiled again, staring me straight in the eyes. At the same time, with little effort, she closed her legs just a little.
She kept staring at me, straight up. That’s when it dawned on me that, my god, she knew exactly what she was doing. My big aunt was enveloping me. Not just my cock, but my senses, my whole self. I felt surrounded by her, as if I was inside her womb.
I just want to hug you, caro, give you my milk… you are my baby, too, sei il mio bambino” she purred, kissing my head into her chest.
“Oh… ziona… come sei grassa, ziona, come sei grassa… avvolgimi, avvolgimi tutto!”
The opulence of her body dismantled my most intimate inhibitions. Surrounded by so much immensity, I felt immense as well. I felt the desire to be reborn inside of her.
“Oh caro, ma certo, of course I can hold you. Come here, such a big man now… I’ll hold you, you’ll be warm inside auntie’s big body. Sono molto materna…”
She surely was. With the softest touch she held my head against her very prosperous breast. She opened her legs some more, like a gentle, maternal whore, and then she squeezed me in. I could feel the decadent rolls on her thighs pressing against me. Oh those huge, fat thighs. My whole body could swim in them. And I did. She would release me just enough to let my penis push sideways, sinking into the creaminess of her inner thigh. I was like a stick in warm butter, dipping into mounds and mounds of cellulite. And then she’d slowly swallow me back inside her womb. One of her thighs was wider than my hips, larger than my whole body.
“How big are your thighs, Zia?” I kissed her everywhere I could.
“They are big, dear, very big… ”
“Sì, grandi, larghe e grasse… anche quand’eri bambino lo dicevi sempre, ‘”i prosciuttoni della zia, i prosciuttoni della zia!”
“Che belle coscione lardose… I wish my girlfriend had thighs like yours!”
“Well, you should feed her, dear… tell her to eat!”
“But she doesn’t want to eat, at least not like you do… ”
“Well, maybe I can give you my thighs until she get as fat as me, how about that?”
“Oh ziona, come sei buona, sei grassa come una maialona, culona e tettona…”
I grabbed a huge chunk of cellulite on top of her thigh, with sublime ease. I squeezed and dug in. She had so much meat on her. I was ecstatic.
“Che cicciona, madonna mia… mi piacciono cosi’ piene…”
“Che bello che sei, caro, cocco della zia,” she purred. “Your girlfriend or not, whenever you need my big thighs, you know that you can always have them… as long as you let me hug you like the old days… cocco della zia, come here, guarda le mie mammelle, do you like my big boobs?”
Carmela moved closer, arching her bust like Poppea, the opulent Roman domina with the breast of the Goddess of Milk. As she was offering her plentiful breast, she threw her arms at me to hug me and hold me. She wanted to give me her own divine nectar to go with the flesh. She must have had gallons of milk in those fleshy teats, dangling right in front of me. They were pendulous and so full, bulging like heavy cow udders. She was spacious, protective and full of love.
I dove in with my whole head and humped her some more, pushing my body in. Or maybe it was the ocean that was coming at me, with its infinite, massive waves. I listened to the watery cellulite splash around me. The weight of her beauty was substantial, but light as water at the same time. She smiled again, and caressed my face.
“Do it,” she seemed to be saying. It was such a taboo pleasure. The open window was bringing in a lot of sun and some outdoor chatter from the nearby beach, accompanied by the dampened sounds of this torrid summer. She loved to see me so hungry for her. And she loved to feed me.
She raised up a bit, enough to have her giant boobs hanging down, hovering on top of my head. Was her top going to break under the weight? She shook them a little, and at the same time leaned over a bit, putting my face between her obese breasts as they were still splashing against each other. Then she hugged me around my neck, while I tried to move my hands from her thighs to her giant boob. She was so soft all over her body.
I humped again. Her hips and belly jiggled profusely, but she was so massive that her body center didn’t move at all. She was like a giant pillow of flesh.
She arched her head back, gently. Her turgid lower lip shined against the sun light. I adored the copious opulence of her body, magnificent everywhere. La sua inguine era ricolma di lardo. Her belly was huge and soft, with a wonderful triple roll. Wide hips, and enormous breast. She was proud of her heavy hourglass. What else could I want?
The soft garment of her top — a short tank-top that also worked as a bra — could not hide anything of her incredible softness. She was filling it up completely and her breast meat was already bursting out. So she just finished the job. She slowly pulled out a breast that was so fat I could not believe it. One giant, soft, milky teat.
“Va tutto bene, amore mio, it’s ok… it’s ok,” she caressed me. “I want to feed you…. fatti allattare… dai, prendi il mio seno, guarda quanto latte che ho… look at all this milk… I want to feed you like a baby, like a big baby hungry for milk…”
Her bust was a waterfall. I grabbed one udder with both hands, and squeezed her. La mia bella muccona… She smiled again, and held me like a baby as I was reaching for her erect nipple.
I wished that some of my friends would have seen me, especially the ones who love skinny girls. I wish my tiny girlfriend would have seen me. Right here, right now. Surrounded by boobs and hips, thighs and milk.
“Ecco, this one, too…” She pulled out the other breast and plopped it down on me.
They were truly cow udders. She smushed me between them to her content. She watched me lick them and kiss them, until she lifted both of them pulling them to the sides, leaving my head in the middle. Then she dropped them down. They lashed all around me like two-gallons water balloons splashing on the floor.
“So much milk…”
Her big nipple and huge areola stood out, oozing milk in plump, white beads. She leaned back and then forward, and very naturally the fat nipple slipped into my mouth, while her breast meat covered my face.
“Suck…. succhia, amore mio, succhia… it’s all yours,” she whispered. “Mungimi, I have a lot of milk…”
I did. I adored the delicious stretch-marks on her ample chest, the shiny dimples everywhere, the white wetness of her areolae. I sucked her milk like a baby.
My whole head became surrounded by her fat breast. She was petting me on my head. She was so sweet. “Auntie’s giving you some milk, so you grow even bigger…”
It felt like sucking milk straight from the cow. I closed my mouth around the huge nipple, softly chewing on it with my lips: it was big, thick and long. Just like a real mucca. I could tell she was proud of that gushing abundance. That explicit lust. I loved it even more.
I licked around the nipple, savoring the ripples of fat all over her breast meat. I rolled my lips back and forth. I rubbed my tongue thoroughly all over the base of the nipple. She was delicious like cream. Every time she moaned, I closed in on it, cupping it with my lips and holding the fat boob with both my hands. I suckled slowly. I loved to gently squeeze it at the same time.
She moaned so loud that my neighbors must have heard. I heard somebody on the opposite side of the street setting up a chair on his patio. It was almost like she wanted everyone to hear about this melody of pleasure. I pulled the fat boob with both hands, and sucked hard, just as if I was milking her. “Mucca… tettona…” Every time I praised her abundance she smiled like a lap dancer, but almost embarrassed by the flatter.
Milk kept coming out. She must have had gallons and gallons of it in those gigantic otri. I drank without control, abandoned to pleasure. At one point she grabbed her own boob and gave herself a very strong squeeze. Even I would have been ashamed of manhandling someone like she did to herself. It was just like she was squeezing a giant balloon.
The dam opened. Thick juicy streams of milk sprayed out. Then she plopped the boob and pulled me close into herself.
Che donna. La palpai ovunque, come si può palpare una giovenca da accoppiare.
A sudden warmth. I felt the folding of some of her buttery flesh, almost like it entirely melted. Everything became warmer, deeper, larger. She slowly lowered herself on me. Her enormous ass became even more apparent.
“Prima il latte, e ora la carne.”
—- END OF CHAPTER 8 —-
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