Posts Tagged ‘asshley’

Tanta carne dentro le mutandone di Asshley

June 25, 2016

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Ma quanto è piena, una mucchia di lardo accatastato, natiche gonfie di carne, è piena di grasso, tutta da strizzare, le bolle di cellulite che ballano e si muovono ad ogni passo. Asshley mostra l’abbondanza delle sue forme e promette di ingrassarsi ancora. I gnocchi di cellulite ballano e si muovono tutti, sono pieni e invitanti. L’ho appena conosciuta e mi invita ad abbracciarla stretta, i suoi seni prosperosi sporgono in avanti, è anche una bella tettona. Lei si stringe a me lasciandomi guardare. Butto giù l’occhio dietro le sue spalle e vedo il suo enorme culone lardoso all’infuori come una mensola di carne. Che bella culona che sei… le metto le mani dietro la schiena, all’altezza della vita. E’ un golfo di morbidezza, le tettone sopra, e il porto dei suoi fianchi spropositati sotto. Dalla schiena mi muovo verso la vita, e poi lungo i fianchi, per sentire la pienezza delle sue forme a clessidra. E’ larghissima. Una clessidra appesantita verso il basso. I suoi fianchi sono morbidi come panna montata.

Più grassa di un prosciutto

June 7, 2015

piu grassa di un prosciutto

Ecco Asshley, la grassona, stesa sul letto. La sua coscia ingrassatissima giace pacifica sopra le lenzuola, piena e mansueta come quella di una mucca. E` più grassa di un prosciutto. Lei si compiace del suo lardo, ed è consapevole della sua grassezza. La mostra in modo generoso e sfrontato, senza nascondere niente. Come di chi sa che in pochi hanno gambe così lunghe, cosce così grasse, e fianchi alti fino alle spalle. Una dea di Willendorf, ingrassata dai suoi servi, che mostra la sua bellezza, abbondante come la regina più ricca.
Please visit Big Booty Asshley’s new site, it’s great!

Asshley packed on the pounds!!!

May 30, 2012

(image is (c)

For her own admission, packed on the pounds and it looks like it’s all gone to her hips and thighs! Go see for yourself only at … trust me, this girl keeps gaining and her thighs are fuller and fuller.

Oh Asshley when you talk about your body like that is so hot!!! I really hope you have many men caressing, massaging and fondling your fuller and fuller thighs…

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…”

OPULENZIA: the Seventh Obscene Chapter

May 22, 2011

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Previous Chapter

I quickly got rid of my pants and plunged back on the couch. Carmela removed her robe, standing in front of me in just her bra-top and panties. My aunt is a curvy matron, with the boobs of a cow and the hips of Venus. Big, fat bubbles of cellulite all over her legs and buttocks, softer than marshmallows. Yes, she is big, and she is proud of her very pronounced curves. She is a vision of lust and maternity, forbidden pleasure, and home at the same time.

Carmela slowly pulled down her panties, that kept getting buried into the giant pools of fat on her sides. “Tua zia à grassa come una vitella,” used to say my uncle, while caressing her all over. My uncle loved her a lot. I remember him often reaching over to squeeze her thighs and hug her all the time. She always laughed, letting him do whatever he wanted on her body, while often looking at me when his hands were full. To me they were an example of pure joy: one being, with a male and a (very) female part, living life to the fullest.

Her hips were extremely wide: if I stretched my arms as wide as possible, I would barely be able to reach around them. Some months earlier, fantasizing about her, I had estimated she was 110 inches around: fact is, since then she gained weight again! And now that I was seeing her curves in the naked, I know she was much more than that. As I said, she literally had to dig her panties out of her own flesh. Aveva due cosce inzuppate di lardo, tempestate di bolle di pura cellulite.

(photo (c) of

“My hips are so fatty,” she added with content, justifying with some pride the effort she had to undertake in order to remove her slips. Even if the fabric was soft and stretchy, it just couldn’t help to fall into the creaminess of her wide hips. Or thighs, actually. Where did the hips end and thighs begin anyway? Her derriere must have been twenty five inches tall. Such a huge mountain of cellulite.

“Zia, do you have any muscles on your hips?” I asked her, taking all the courage I had left in me.

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