Sarah’s cellulite gain

I met Sarah some years ago. A common German friend, Anita, introduced us when I visited Dresden for work. I immediately felt attracted, and desirous to get closer to her.

coscionaThe first thing that struck me about her was her legs. They were so long you had to be blind not to notice them. There was a softness generously decorating their girth that was unique. She had beautiful cellulite and she was proudly showing it off with the short skirt she was wearing. I fell in love with the beautiful dimply texture jiggling step after step, ripe as the juiciest fruit.

“She must be amazing,” I thought to myself. “If only I wasn’t such a dork as soon as I open my mouth.”

When you meet somebody you think she’s too beautiful for you, all your insecurities come back at you. But from the very first moment I saw her, I also felt a warmth. I wanted to caress those thighs, especially the fattest parts. From the knee all the way up to her hips.

Shortly after this short first acquaintance, I met her again. It was midday, in Berlin.

I was so happy to see her. She looked amazing, an explosion of curves. She had gained some weight! Her smile was even more radiant than the first time. Or maybe, as days had gone by, the image of her that I had pressed in my mind just kept growing, becoming more and more magnificent each day.

In the flesh she was more beautiful than my wildest memory. She was wearing tight red leggings, that clearly were a couple sizes too small now. She had such a beautiful fat butt. Fatter, butt, in fact. Step after step, the generous girth of her hips (together with the abundant fat on her thighs) kept pulling the leggings down. The elastic band at the top easily sank into her creaminess, like a knife in warm butter, and slipped down. Her meaty buttocks overflew and created a jiggling slab of jello on top of her hips, only partially covered by her shirt.

This time I didn’t stop myself. I couldn’t. I looked at her straight into the eyes as she was walking toward me. Her eyes were made of deep, sizzling ice, casting lust above her curvy fire. Her eyes latched onto me. As she was looking at me I slowly moved my stare down, making sure she was following me. My eyes shamelessly landed down there, on top of her hips. The lake of opulence.

She tried to pull it up, but her bulging fat pulled it back down. She smiled, shrugging her shoulders. I stared again at her jiggling abundance. I knew that this would be considered obnoxious by most people, but I didn’t care. I convinced myself she liked it. And perhaps she did, after all.

Her hips were so beautifully fat that it made me want to… brag about her. As pretending that there were other males that knew about her incredible curves, but they were never going to be able to touch them. Unlike me.

When we got close enough to hug, I raised my head to meet her eyes one more time. She was looking at my hand, closing in on her hip. She observed how I was attracted by those beautiful big curves.

She was as squishy as velvet cream, so soft and juicy. I caressed her and squeezed her gently, indulging on her fat. She didn’t say anything. We didn’t talk at all, in fact. It was all glances and slowness.

She kept looking at my hand. She moved her butt a bit to meet my hungry paw, as if she wanted to “kiss it” with her hips. She had a rich saddle bag, full of pure cellulite. She smashed it on my hand. “Take it.” I rested my mouth on her neck, between her soft blond hair, kissing her as I was squeezing her fat.

We spent that day together, adoring each other. We even went to a gothic cathedral, to both get an “ancient” kind of intimacy and also scandalize some prudes. Between the silence and the echoing space we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I think she was showing a lot of skin. A young skinny woman stared at my fingers as they were sinking into Sarah’s hips. An old man sitting next to her had an uncontrollable erection while his younger wife — slender and very fit — was right next to him.

The next morning, I had to leave and go back to Italy. We had breakfast together, exchanged info, and we both hoped to see each other again soon.

“Soon” never really happened. We kept in touch though, letters and polaroids and pictures, but after three or so years she stopped all communications. Months passed by, with many of my messages left unanswered.

Finally, one day she confessed to me that she had gained a lot of weight and even if she knew I loved her curves, she felt this was way too much even for me.

“How much weight has she gained?” I kept wondering.

As I later found out, she had become a gluttonous queen, constantly indulging in her favorite things. Sometimes she shoplifted mortadella to eat it right there in the parking lot of the store. Or in restaurants she’d order cheesecake, eat half of it, then complain about something ludicrous so they’d bring her another slice. She always ended up eating both of them. She felt great after indulging, full of energy and just in control of everything around her. Why stop?

And so she didn’t. She kept indulging. Every – single – night after last time we had seen each other. (Maybe she remembered the way I squeezed her?) After a week or so, as the weight accumulated she noticed she was getting hornier. Sometimes she even caught herself fantasizing about actually procreating.

In one of her letter she complained, “Those red leggings you really liked, they used to fit when we met the first time, but now they barely go through half thigh. My thighs got really fat. I’ve accumulated so many pounds of flesh down there.”

It took several weeks of begging her to get her to agree to meet again. She was very resisting.

Then… it happened.

When I finally saw her at the train station, I couldn’t believe my eyes. She had really gotten super-fat! Her proportions were still there, and actually looked even more pronounced because of the exaggerated hips. She was now wide as a door and thicker than a watermelon.

Her hips had gotten immense, yes. I could almost see all the cheesecakes she had inside her giant saddle bags. And she didn’t lie: the girth of her thighs was indeed incredible: two huge prosciutti, replete with fat. 40 inches or more.

As I hugged her, I immediately put my hands down there and squeezed her all over. “Fatti palpare, bella grassona”, le dissi, in italiano. She replied in her German voice, and my god was that sexy. All those gothic-tall mountains of flesh were incredible. I lifted some of her butt, one arm per butt-cheek. They were heavy like bags of potatoes.

wendywett-cellulite

Without saying a word we went to a nearby park. I pulled down my pants and set on a bench. I was ready to mate. She walked toward me, lifted her skirt, and revealed the immensity of herself. We looked at each other as if this was our way to show appreciation and respect to each other. She watched my excitement, and I watched her fat jiggling as she got closer.

It jiggled even more when she took me inside. My cock made his way inbetween her fat, rubbing and stretching her labia. It was like she gained all this magnificent weight just for this moment. Her skirt and especially the heft of her fat covered my nudity, aided by her long uncontainable legs that surrounded me.

We fucked hard. She was grinding herself on me without restraints. I dug into her hips and thighs. I indulged on her fat, submerging my hands in it and loving every ounce of it. I made sure to go on adoring her thighs to great lengths. They were so glamorously dimpled, squishy and rich, opulent as a Germanic feast after a great hunt.

When an elder gentleman noticed us (despite the fact we were pretty isolated) and realized my hands were squeezing her very flesh, he stopped on a dime while he was walking nearby us. He stared. He couldn’t move. He stared at all the fat being manhandled. He didn’t stop when Sarah looked at him. He had an erection like he hadn’t had one in a very long time.

Without even realizing it, he looked at himself getting closer to her, almost out of control. Her opulence was literally moving him, controlling him.

“I can’t resist you if you are this fat,” I whispered while massaging her saddle bags. There was so much flesh there, and I was grabbing it by the handful: gently but in a way carelessly because it was so abundant.

Our respectable guest noticed. He looked at her, at her eyes, at her mischievous smile. Then, he looked down and he grabbed a chunk of her ass.

Sarah quickly reached over and grabbed his cock, pulling him closer like an animal. There was enough of her to satisfy him too.

Regarding myself, the fact that I was holding her by those massive hips made me feel the most powerful and most fortunate man on Earth. And another man was there to adore her,
witnessing the godlike opulence.
She gave me the confidence
of her fat curves
Others, they had to imagine every thing
’bout being between her massive thighs.
I was surrounded by her.
He kept touching and squeezing her as he masturbated.
I looked into Sarah’s eyes
beyond her big breasts, jiggling before me.

I had these big fat hips to hold on to. “Che bella culona grassa.” She was the only woman in the world.

She leaned back a bit, resting all her weight on me. When I came I was squeezing her hips and suckling her nipples. My spasms of pleasure needed that extra padding. Her infinite legs were all fat. They gave me this incredible sensation, like bathing in creamy milk.

She shooed the other guy away and let me hold her massive curves with my hands. All mine. “Squeeze both hips with your arms.” I held her cellulite and meat and jiggled it around a bit. They were so wide. I pushed myself in. A squishy mountain of butt. The proportions of a goddess.

I was in awe.

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One Response to “Sarah’s cellulite gain”

  1. Consequences of Sarah’s cellulite gain | Fat Curvy Stories Says:

    […] sixteen year old male passed by our spot while we were loving each other. Sarah teased him by showing all her flesh. He then went home and made sure to […]

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