Helena's stomach turned as she pressed the "post" button to her profile and then her pussy tingled, a down letting of electricity pulsing through her. It was unlikely anyone would respond to the post, anyway. But the excitement of posting it, the final freedom of having sent the thing, made her giddy.
Her cheeks flushed as she refreshed to look at the post. She could always cancel it now if it didn't feel right. The picture she'd posted of herself showed her neck down in the short dress she was wearing now. A simple cotton dress, dark blue and sleeveless, form fitting around the bodice and slightly flared after the waist. It barely covered her very generous ass and flowed mid-thigh. She would never have worn it out just a few months previously, but something had changed recently. She craved eyes on her. She craved the attention. Not everyone would be happy to see her body on display, but she had put that worry behind her. She felt sexy and she felt powerful, and she was on a mission. She thought the picture showed that.
She re-read the posting:
User: MountStHelena
Me: Fat, hot, insatiable woman. Hairy pussy. Clean and delicious. Non-reciprocal.
You: Man, loves pussy, loves belly, wants to lick my pussy till I cum on your face and tell you to leave.
She smiled at what she had written. She was proud, and aroused, that she'd had the courage to post. She had 59 minutes left till the post expired. She took a quick selfie of her face, a slight smile to the camera and then sat and spread her legs and took a quick picture of her blue lace panties with her pussy slit slightly visible among the tufts of soft brown hair just beyond the lace. In case anyone responded and needed further photos. Just in case.
She curled up on the couch and scrolled for BBW pussy eating videos to keep her mood right. Her skirt fell across the round mound of her thigh and ass. It felt so sexy. Her nipples hardened slightly. When no one reached out on her post she could just fuck herself with a dildo and a vibrator and it would be good. Maybe even better than meeting someone random to lick her. Yes, she knew best how to please herself. She didn't need a man from the internet to please her. It was a fun distraction but not necessary.
Helena let the minutes go by as she searched through the videos and found one of a particularly lovely fat woman being eaten out by a muscular, thin bald man. He seemed to be enjoying her so much, his nose and mouth buried in her, her legs open wide to him, her cute toes curling just at the edge of the screen. Helena was now very aroused and since there had been no action on the post, she got her slim vibrator out and ran it over her panties, feeling the vibrations on her outer lips through her panties.
She ran her hands over her breasts, running her fingers gently over her nipples and looked down at them, loving the look of the small peaks through her simple lace bralette and dress. She'd always loved her smaller breasts but had the impression that men who liked fat women often liked large breasts. Another reason to not need some man with expectations of what she should look like, another reason to give her own self what she needed.
She thought about the past few months when she'd been slowly reawakening to herself after years of believing that she didn't need sex anymore, that no one would want to fuck her, that she was happy with reading erotic romances and watching sexy movies and the occasional orgasm. She'd had a two-week interaction with a man, someone she had met randomly out in the world who had asked for her number but then it never went further than just pictures and words back and forth. But it had convinced her there were men out there who would be interested, and maybe more were interested than she had ever thought was possible before. She'd lurked on message boards for fat women and their admirers, seeing the men and women out there who might be interested in her, not for her personality, which she'd always prided herself on, but for her sexy, and fat, body.
Once it had seemed like a possibility that she would have sex again, her libido, pushed down for years, reared up, fully awake. She started masturbating two or three times a day, took pictures of herself when she was feeling sexy, which was often: close-up pictures of her pussy and pictures of her belly and her ass, learning herself, loving what she was seeing and learning to love the things she thought she could never like. This roll here, the darker skin between her thighs, this scar, this set of stretch marks, the way her belly hung over her pussy.
And then a fantasy had started taking over. A fantasy that plagued and excited her masturbation sessions and early morning half dreams. A fantasy to have a man lick her pussy, incredibly turned on by her, bring her to orgasm, but leave immediately after. His only satisfaction being having gotten her off. He'd go home and jerk off to the memory of her pussy on his face and in his mouth. And the idea that he'd want to do it over and over again because he was so addicted to her pussy. The power over him, the power to get off and not feel like she had to get him off. The attraction he must feel to only be interested in her pleasure in the moment. The idea of it made her tingle and start to let down an excited secretion.
She had only had two people eat her pussy out before; once in college when she was so drunk all she remembered was looking between her legs at someone's head there, no sensation. And then a boyfriend of hers a few years ago who liked her company, but with whom sex was infrequent. She'd asked him to lick her pussy because she'd heard how good it felt and thought it would be something to bring them together, to spice up their waning sex life. But she could feel the discomfort radiating off him, his hesitation. He had barely licked her outer lip when she asked him if he was ok and when he didn't answer she scooted up slightly, catching his eye and said, "If you don't want to do this, just let me know," fully expecting him to say that, no, it was fine, he loved doing it for her if that's what she wanted. But he looked at her, pleading in his eyes and said, "Is that ok if I stop?"
She immediately scooted up and closed her legs, the color rising in her cheeks, but so eager to soothe him, "Yeah, no, no, that's fine, no problem!" she effused. He asked if she still wanted to have sex and she could feel his uninterested mood, and she was about to cry, so she said, "No, that's ok!"
And he stood up and walked to the side of the bed and kissed the side of her mouth and said, "Ok, sounds good. I'll be downstairs." Then put on his shirt and left the room. She could no longer hold it in, and tears spilled down her face and it was hard to breathe. She got up, covering herself with a towel, and went to turn on the shower, crying into the sound of the falling water. Hating him and hating herself. Him for not being able to do it for her, herself for being repulsive to him and for letting him treat her this way.
Her worst fears had been confirmed: she wasn't sexy enough to have sex with, not sexy enough to get her pussy eaten, good for conversation only. Not deserving. Believing it. Living without being touched except for hugs from friends for years and believing it was because she didn't deserve it. And then the reawakening started, the kernel of an idea buried in her increasing libido and sexual energy. And the pussy licking fantasy lodged itself in her mind. She convinced herself that there was someone out there who wanted to pleasure her and would find pleasure in pleasuring her.
But now, when it actually came down to finding someone, she was worried she had deceived herself. Maybe she wasn't hot or sexy or deserving. No matter. She drove it from her mind. She refreshed her post. Nine minutes left.
She pulled the vibrator from her crotch and ran it over her nipples through the dress. Then she lifted the skirt of the dress and relished the feel of her fingernails and warm fingertips on her belly and hip. She could feel her wetness collecting inside her cunt and it felt glorious and made her eager to touch herself. She held the vibrator in one hand, put the phone playing the porn on the couch arm, and with her other hand she reached under her panties and dipped her middle finger between her plump outer lips, feeling the damp hair. Her pussy slit was deep and soft and warm and dewy with her excitement. She pulled her finger out of her panties and brought it up to her lips, her tongue licking the wet finger. She tasted so good. Fresh, earthy and slightly tangy. She had her eyes closed, the vibrator buzzing in her hand, her tongue swirling on her finger, listening to the woman coming from the bald man's attention. And then her phone buzzed.
She dropped the vibrator in surprise, and it vibrated against the wood floor below, turning itself around in a circle. She picked it up and turned it off, placing it on the coffee table. Her palms started sweating and her heartbeat increased. She paused the video drawing in a deep breath and opened the app. There was a message.
Simpl3Man: Hi, r u still looking?
She was a little let down. What had she been expecting? Something like, you're so fucking hot I'm already at your door and on my knees. Yes, that. But still, a bite was a bite.
MountStHelena: I am
Let him be let down with a short response.
The post expired. She hoped he would write her back now that the conversation had started. After staring at the screen for several seconds, she decided she had to go back to the porn. She would go crazy waiting to hear back from him. She had just restarted the video; the bald man had surfaced and was kissing the woman sloppily on the mouth. And then the notification came through. Helena couldn't tap it any faster.
Simpl3Man: irl?
She would love a little more talking, more interaction. Maybe he was just warming up. Maybe if she was going to ask for non-reciprocal head she was going to get people who were to the point.
MountStHelena: Yes
He responded quickly.
Simpl3Man: where when and how?
They were getting somewhere but she had been hoping for a little more passion. And this seemed fast. Didn't they need to confirm who each other were? She was taking breaths to calm herself down a bit. It was feeling real.
MountStHelena: Um, thought about meeting somewhere out, I'm open on timing. How?
