Sheila Fox was a fat, dark brown, jovial woman in her mid-thirties. She had a firm looking pair of big boobs, and nice, shapely plump lips which were always quick with a smile that would also light up her big, shiny black eyes that looked like water reflecting light -- as a result, her girlishly pretty face always seemed to bear a look of excitement or awe. Her hair, worn in an emerging afro style was also shiny. Everything about her glowed, even her smooth chocolate skin.
Sheila worked -- when she did -- as a domestic maid and had a much older, sugar daddy of sorts, with whom she shared an infant daughter. He was a married man in his mid-fifties and appeared to have a few dollars, by ghetto standards. He would roll up in the afternoons on his red Honda P 50 motor scooter to visit her and would stay for a few hours, or occasionally, overnight.
Sheila lived next door to me in one of the four tiny bottom flat apartments with her daughter and an older female cousin and her son. How they all shared the one bedroom, especially when the sugar daddy, Mr. Munro slept over, was stuff for the imagination. Her apartment was next to ours, snuggled between the two end apartments, all the walls of which stopped short about two feet from the wooden ceiling in the first half and about one foot in the bedrooms, which meant persons could climb over from the walls from one apartment to the other, and it was not unusual to see little and not so little kids climbing up and peeping over or passing comic books or other stuff to their playmates in this type of apartments which were quite common in the neighbourhood.
Two wooden bathroom stalls were in the yard alongside the house in line with the first and last apartment and two wooden pit toilets were a little further down to the back of the yard. These were shared by the bottom flat dwellers. The other side of the house held similar amenities for the top dwellers, that is, the landlord and his family who took up one half of the flat and tenants in two apartments similar to those downstairs.
One Monday morning, Sheila, who was between maid jobs at the moment, borrowed three dollars from me with a promise to pay me back that weekend when Munro came by. In those days, the mid-sixties, three dollars could feed a small, poor family for two or three days. After three weekends passed and I hadn't received my money I casually let her know that I would like to have it, because there was something I needed to do. She said she wouldn't have the money until that weekend. I saw her in the yard just outside her door early Saturday morning and before I could ask she summoned me to her and informed me that she couldn't pay me until month-end which was two weeks away.
I was a bit annoyed, feeling that she was just playing me, but my anger fizzled away as I looked at her standing before me in a sheer, light blue, armless, knee length nightie that hugged her bulky figure closely. Two stout, dark nipples poked against the front of the V-cut top of her nightie, and glancing down I could see her red panties. I felt slight movement in my pants as I looked at her, letting my eyes linger a bit on the nipples. I think she noticed where my eyes had hovered, for she gave me a little twisted smile that seemed to message, 'I saw that'. When she turned and walked up the three flights of steps to her door, her fat ass rolling with each step, I also noticed that one leg of the panties had slipped a good way over her big bottom and was lodged in the crack. That sight caused the movement in my pants to significantly increase, and I plumb forgot everything about my three dollars.
By the time the payback date came around I'd already come to the conclusion that she couldn't afford to or simply had no intention of giving me the money she owed me. She and Munro had exchanged heated words one evening and I hadn't seen him around going on three weeks. I decided to let the money go; she'd always been nice to me since she moved into the yard four years ago when I was still a kid in school, and now I was close to nineteen, still showed friendly warmth towards me. But I couldn't help thinking that I could use the debt to my advantage. I'd recently started noticing the subtle but undeniable sexuality in Sheila. There was something sexually daring in the slow, purposeful way she moved her plump, round body, and the casual way in which she slightly tilted and raised her head when talking, always accompanied by a teasing sort of smile and flashing black eyes.
There was a simmering passion inside that corpulent body that always seemed to be sending out a challenge to anybody looking at it. I'd been toying with the idea of fucking her, but lacked the courage and experience to approach the older woman in a sexual manner. I worried about the consequences if she took offence to my advances. People in a big yard environment were known for their hot tempers and loud outbursts, and it didn't pay to have your dirty secrets known -- they never let you forget.
Anyhow, a week past month end I gathered enough courage to set the ball rolling, hoping it would roll in the direction that would lead to me fucking Sheila's fat pussy. I was tired of only jerking off to images of her succulent, fat body inside my head. I wanted the real thing. It was mid-morning and the sun was on the other side of the house. Sheila was sitting in the shade over a tub of laundry positioned under one of the two stand pipes in the yard, where the tenants usually did their laundry. Her fat legs were spread wide to accommodate the aluminum basin between them as she sat on a low stool, her dress pulled all the way up to her groin to avoid it getting wet.
She somehow hadn't, as most women did, bothered to gather the dress between her thighs to cover her crotch, it was just pulled all the way up, so as I stood in front and over her I got a good view of her fat crotch in pink nylon panties, noting the dark smudge that fat women usually have on the insides of their upper thighs, caused by constant friction. I wasn't surprised by her indifference, I'd long been aware that modesty wasn't one of her virtues, and had, on numerous occasions, got revealing glimpses between her thighs or down a slack blouse.
When she looked up at me with one of her quick smiles, I deliberately let my eyes travel to and linger for a couple of seconds on her thick vulva bump. She couldn't miss that gaze and I hoped it sent the message of my interest to her. She slowly placed a wet hand between her legs, confirming that she had indeed noted my wicked stare.
"Yuh come for yuh money? I ain't got it, yuh know," she said.
I slumped my shoulder and made a face, pretending to be disappointed.
She continued, "Pat, but is why yuh running mih down for this little bit of money ... I thought me and you was alright, friends, yuh know ... and I sure yuh notice that I ain't working and Munro ain't come around for a while ... I won't rob you, as soon as I get it I will pay you."
"I not running you down Miss Sheila, but I ain't work for a couple weeks now, and I broke, so I just checking in case yuh got it ... but me and you alright ... so if yuh ain't got it, I could wait," I said, softly, while glancing between her thighs, despite the bump being hidden by a plump hand.
"Thanks fuh understanding, darling ... I goin try and get it fuh you ... or, we could always work sumting out, yuh know," she said, while removing the chubby hand from her crotch.
I saw her eyes shoot a furtive glance to the pressurized and puffed up front of my khakis, and my head spun at the imagined meaning of those magic words 'work sumting out'. I fastened my eyes to her bump and deliberately licked my lips. What I was seeing was a tempting treat, and I had a feeling I was halfway to sampling it -- 'work sumting out' was a big signal.
My eyes were lost between the succulent thighs when her voice startled me.
"Careful Pat, don't let yuh eyes fall out ... you is a wicked boy," she said, laughing as she looked into her basin and started rubbing clothes.
I gave a little chuckle, blushing red on my caramel face. I saw the old lady, Enid, who lived in the end apartment, approaching with her wash basin and I started walking. Sheila looked up and saw her too.
"I goin see what ah could do fuh yuh Pat," she said, behind my retreating back.
I then heard Enid's berating voice to Sheila:
"You Sheila ... yuh could have at least cover up yuh big, fat pattacake while talking to de young man ... why yuh so indecent, eh?"
Sheila laughed out loud. Pattacake is the local slang word for pussy.
Later that evening, shortly after it became dark, I was alone at home, mom having gone to visit my grandmother. I lay on my bed reading a novel and trying to hold back a demanding pee until I finished the chapter. I was on my way to the toilet after closing the book, when, as I approached the bathroom I heard water splashing and then as I drew in line with it, I heard Sheila's voice softly call out:
