Ssbbw Natalie G

I knew I's been going through a rut since breaking up with a cheating girlfriend two months earlier but didn't see anything wrong with a spartan lifestyle until Walter, a good friend at work took it upon himself to conduct a one man intervention. He approached me in the cafeteria during my last break.

"Hey man; can I ask a probing question?"

"No."

"You getting any; you know, trim?"

My blatant refusal wasn't going to stop my chubby, Latin cohort from finding out what he wanted to know. A few weeks early, I'd let the cat out of the bag telling him that my relationship with former girlfriend Cecily had imploded when the nitwit unwittingly included me in a group text with her friends giving the down and dirty about a hook up with some middle eastern DJ guy at the ritzy Standard Hotel. I'd been informed earlier that she would be attending a family function out of town. This obviously didn't go over so well with me as Cecily immediately blocked me and never bothered trying to give me closure of any type.

"I take the fifth."

"You ain't getting none, dude; it's time to throw some dirt on that shit show biatch and move the needle. You need some reset pussy, man."

"What the fuck is reset pussy?" I asked making sure no women were in earshot of our breakroom conversation.

"It's the next pussy you get after a chick cheats on you. Don't you know anything, man? Now, this shit is imperative because the longer you go without sticking a new chick, the closer the cuck clock gets to striking midnight on your sorry ass."

"Cuck clock?"

"Yeah man, you'll turn into a vegimax soy boy if you don't put it down on some trim, tonight dude." Walter was this short, stout street comedian sometimes unfavorably called a Mexican Jack Black. We'd been friends since the last semester of community college, both getting jobs at the same office.

"If I'm not mistaken, you spent six months crying when Darla dumped your fucking ass; am I right?"

"Man, you don't understand nothing; I'm trying to help you stay off that road. Anyway, I fucked Darla in the ass, right before she married that douche bag Ricky."

The woman we spoke of was this short, buxom rockabilly chick nobody thought he should be with. A literal femme fatale with unfavorable comparisons to Jessica Rabbit. I have to admit not being able to keep my eyes off her full bottom at times. It turned out Darla was seeing a rival, one Ricky Alvera who had the edge in the triangle because he was in a band.

"How'd you accomplish that, pray tell?" Inquiring minds wanted to know, seriously.

"You know she work out in the valley at the bank, right?"

"Yeah?"

"I saved up like, seven hundred dollars and went over there to open up an account with my Sunday finest on and everything."

"I thought you closed your account over there after she cheated?"

"Shut up homes; just fucking listen. I go over there on like Friday afternoon; cause that's when the line is the most crowded and shit. Of course Darla's working new accounts and its Hella busy, so I just sit there in the waiting area facing her desk with this Mentos fucking smile on my face, right? So I just keep on smiling hard as fuck, like the Joker or something until she can't take it anymore!" Walter wiped an errant strand of hair over his brow as he spoke, grinning at the memory of what he'd done.

"What happened next?"

"Darla's like "All what're you doing here; what the fuck you want?!!" totally pissed, right? I mean, she's so mad that she don't even give two fucks about cursing in front of customers. I just tell her I'm there to open an account and she takes me right away. Those fucking banks always hawking accounts and shit like rocks, right?"

"Walter!" I just wanted him to get to the point.

"You see Darla must've been behind on her quota because she took me even though she can't stand me. I started asking all the hundred dollar questions about accounts and shit right, pissing her even more while she opened the account. So Darla finally gets around to asking me why I'm smiling so hard and shit; that's' when I hit the knockout blow, man!!" Walter started giggling maniacally making me doubt his sanity at that point, but I nudged him in the shoulder.

"COME ON!"

"I tell my ex-girlfriend Darla Rivera; love of my shitty life and mother to my imaginary babies-that I hit the lottery for twelve million."

"Man-GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!!" I guffawed thinking he was full of shit, but Walter kept going.

"Yeah, she said the same thing, but I knew I had that greedy motherfucker caught up; there ain't nothing she love more than spending other people's money and shit. So, I'm all like "Thanks a lot for opening my account, it's been real"-but I said it different, all serious and all so she's got this "Oh shit, it might be true" caught in the headlights look as I get up shaking her hand."

"Yeah?"

"I went for that fucking Hail Mary walking to the door knowing that if she didn't follow me, the shit was over; but here she come all smiling in my face bringing up the good ole shitty times. I keep behaving all distant talking to her like it's no big deal, so now I can see she really is panicking. Check this; old girl invites me out for a few drinks, and she's got her hand on my arm, not letting go. We leave the bank right there ending up at this bar knocking them back."

"Keep going." I was hooked.

"She's acting all remorseful telling me a bunch of shit, just non-stop talking about all of the times we hooked up and running down that Ricky motherfucker. She lets slip that they're getting married that weekend, but says she's having second thoughts-after seeing me."

"Fucking bitch." I commented.

"Darla keeps going on and on, bawling when I wish her the best. She just knows she's about to lose out on some big money after trading me for a garage band loser; she can't wrap her fucking head around that shit, serious. Darla's starts talking about having one last fuck with me and I'm just staying distant until she says she'll let me get that big fat ass of hers. Remember what happened when I gave her that accidental poke in the booty, remember that one time?"

"Beat your ass, I remember."

"Well, now she's got that fucking Hershey Highway opened up for me, man! She's planning on getting her hands on my money and Darla Rivera don't care how she gotta do it. What she don't know is that I got a friend in the security department at that big hotel down town. This guy's a supervisor and he got me a key to the presidential suite."

"You didn't?"

"Yes I did, man; Darla gave me that girlfriend experience wrapped around that serious porn star experience. I never knew she could get down like that; nasty bitch even rimmed me, serious!! So we fuck like animals and I just wreck that booty like it's going out of style. The whole time she won't let up with the feelings shit, so right near the end I tell her that I'm starting to feel the same way too. Darla's so fucking fake making herself cry talking about second chances saying she ain't marrying loser Ricky."

"Man, you crazy."

"Slipped out while she was taking a shower. Security rolled right up after I left the door open; found her butt naked in the shower, too. Darla got that police action for being a squatter along with a busted booty! I checked Facebook and found out she got married anyway but I was just laughing my ass off! You should've seen that wedding picture; Darla needed a smile from Rent-A-Center!" The break room burst into uproarious laughter. Several of our peers had gathered to hear the story.

"Better hope she don't catch you."

"I went to an ATM and withdrew the money in that account with the black card she stupidly gave me. I already moved, so she ain't never gonna catch my ass. Geez, I ain't stupid."

"Don't put it to a vote, Walter." I cautioned.

"Shut up; so you coming to the party with me, or you gonna stay in with your right hand, tonight.?" Some of the guys gathered around waited for my answer.

*************************************************************************************

Walter wasn't especially popular or personable, but he knew how to find a good party and truth be told, I was starting to get tired of the same old routine. I figured hanging out with him would break the monotony that had invaded my life even if I didn't quote-unquote score. I was a little leery of going someplace I wasn't familiar but wanted the company. It wouldn't be bad at all if I could erase the tactile memory of my ex-girlfriend, Cecily. The situation definitely did damage to my ego because I considered our relationship drama free and her, non-confrontational for the most part. The infidelity had been a slap in the face whose sting lingered.

"Dude, I swear I can hear you thinking about her."

"I'm-not thinking about her."

"Stop lying; don't know why you were with her anyway. Cecily was an old fraggle rock looking biatch with a flappy butt. That shits was straight house of pancakes, man." We were driving up into the hills to some glorified house party Walter found through a Facebook group he'd recently joined. He swore it was better than tinder and catfish proof. The night breeze was especially chilly, Walter liked tooling around in his VW convertible with the top down, but I suspected it was broke.

"So, where are we going?"

"A sweet little mixer in this backyard up in the middle part of the hills."

"YOU'RE TAKING ME TO A FUCKING BACKYARD PARTY?!!"

"Trust me."

We eventually drove up this steep hill into this mixed class area that was home to a number of Latino blue collar families and trust fund babies. The soiree turned out to be held at this three story house situated on the side of a steep hill with this spacious backyard full of people already in the swing of things. It was a mild version of a rave with different parts sectioned off. Parking was almost non-existent with both sides of the street filled.

"Man, you jump out and go in, I'll catch up when I find parking."

"I have to pay to get in there?"

"Just go inside and have some fun, man. Shit, I should've left your ass."

I hopped over the side of the car following a group of people inside getting more intimidated as we walked along this house which seemed more of an apartment building at second glance. I wasn't a babe in the woods, but this wasn't my crowd and definitely wasn't my neighborhood. I found this little patio area where some more relaxed types were hanging out away from the noise.

There were some coolers full of beers I wasn't sure were free or not. Some large, Jerry Garcia looking guy broke the ice by handing me a bottle. We shot the shit for a few minutes before he drifted away to another circle of people. I still felt out of my element content just to watch the festivities from afar. It didn't feel like I would be getting laid tonight as my phone rang. I noticed several calls I'd missed which were from Walter.

"Where you at man?"

"HEY, CAN YOU GET YOURSELF HOME?!!"

"What's up; something going on?"

"IT'S A SETUP; THEY'RE TRYING TO GET ME!!" I could hear that he was driving pretty fast.

"Dude, what's going on?!!"

"Man I'm sorry, I got cat fished on that group; it was motherfucking Darla!! Shit, she sent a bunch of guys down to that party to SNATCH my ASS!! My boy, Wesley hit me up while I was parking saying he was friends with Darla! Said she was planning some sick shit, man!!"

"So, you leaving me behind, Walter?"

"MAN, THEY DON'T KNOW WHO-!!" The line dropped off abruptly mid sentence. I found my battery dead realizing I hadn't charged it in a while.

"Everything okay?" The Jerry Garcia guy reappeared.

"Uhm, my phone died." I glanced around the outside area not finding an available outlet. I was going to need an uber or something to get out of dodge. The neighborhood was way up in the hills which would necessitate a walk several blocks down until I reached a main street where I'd have to wait for a city bus to get a ride home. That area was exactly crime free, either.

"No worries, just go up to the house and charge it in the kitchen." He motioned towards a long winding stairwell that led up to the third floor which had an open door.

"Sure it's alright?"

"My niece lives up there; she's renting the space to these kids, calling themselves promoters. It's my house and I don't mess with the girl's cash flow."

"Well, if you're sure it won't be a problem."

"Go on up; her name's Natalie." He seemed affable enough, so I took to the stairs noticing the strong scent of weed in the air as I ascended.

At the top of the stairs, I found the kitchen opened looking back for a few seconds before going inside the dimly lit kitchen. It was nice and heated from the slight night chill outside as the music wafted in from the rented adjacent yard. There were a couple of power strips available, all with phone already plugged in leaving no available outlet for me.

"Shit!" I blurted out in frustration.

"HELLO-IS SOMEBODY THERE IN THE KITCHEN?!" I glanced over finding a cracked bedroom door at my back.

"Uhm, sorry; I was just looking to charge my phone. It's dead and there's no available outlets in here."

"Oh, well sorry about that; could you come in here for a moment, I'd like to see who I'm talking to." It was a female who sounded friendly enough. I pushed the door open finding a cramped looking bedroom with what looked like excess furniture inside. There sitting on a love seat was this really large, woman facing a flat screen television. I assumed this was Natalie.

"I have an outlet you can use." She offered.

"You sure about that?"

"You're welcome to watch a movie while you charge your phone." Natalie patted a spot on the small love seat in her cramped room. It didn't look like I could sit there beside her as my gaze wandered around the floor for a place to sit, finding it equally littered with various odds and ends along with several gaming consoles.

"Well, I don't know; do you have a chair for me?"

"What, you don't want to sit next to me or something?" She looked sort of hurt and irritated at the same time.

"No, it's not that; it's just that I don't think I can fit next to you."

"Gee, thanks!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah right; how else could you have meant it?" She rested an arm on the couch looking sort of uncomfortable shifting the weight to do so as I tried to figure out a way to answer without offending her further.

"I didn't mean it like you think, that's all."

"So, you gonna charge your phone or stand there with your foot in your mouth?"

"Oh, yeah." I handed her the phone watching as she looked over on the table beside herself for a plug, before glancing over in my direction.

"Shit, I can't reach it; you're gonna have to plug it in over here. I'm gonna need you to unplug the lamp and stick the charger in that slot. Can you crawl over here and plug your phone in?"

"Uhm, sure." I reluctantly got down on all fours crawling on the littered floor past her knees to the other side of her small bedroom. I couldn't help but notice the massive nature of her shaved legs and the way the undersides of her thighs bulged from the couch cushions. I couldn't tell if she were wearing underwear as I found myself staring at a worn used power strip. There were several others but the one in front of me was the most accessible.

"Hey, I could unplug one of your consoles, then you could keep the light on if you want."

"No can do; I got some games going. Just use the lamp plug like I asked, please."

Natalie replied still revealing a tinge of attitude. I followed her instruction unplugging the lamp drowning the room in darkness other than the light from her large flat screen television. I nudged her closest knee trying to stand up accidentally stumbling catching myself before I could fall into her. She reached up steadying me easily revealing a surprising amount of strength.

"Watch yourself or it could get interesting." I squeezed in beside her barely acknowledging her sly comment.

"So uhm, what are we watching?"

Natalie was considerably taller than me sitting down, practically towering over me as I looked at her face longer than I should have. She fell into that category of people who were racially ambiguous, leaning towards Latin or Pacific Island in nature.

"Japanese import, downloaded this stuff the other day."

"Anime?"

"Not exactly; but the house rules so you either like it or lump it, home boy." She shifted on the love seat shaking it a little with her considerable weight alone.

"I'm open minded."

"Is that right?"

Natalie smirked as I noticed the pronounced rippling, jiggle of her chest under the sole football jersey covering her body. A V-neck had been cut into the cotton material leaving no doubt to the enormous breasts hidden underneath. I couldn't help but notice the deep cavernous, cleavage just below her short neck.

"Yeah, I like some of the weird gory stuff these guys put out; it's kind of quirky and strange as all get out. One time I saw this crazy yakuza vs. zombie movie that was awesome! The name escapes me at the moment."

"Versus, I know that one; it's a Ryuhei Kitamura joint. I got a couple of his movies around here somewhere."

She motioned to stacks of Blu-ray and DVD's littering her entertainment center in piles with some on the floor. Natalie seemed to be a shut-in of sorts, but I wasn't sure I should ask. There were two smaller monitors displaying paused games. One looked like some Call of Duty rip off while the other defied description, definitely an import or something.

"I love that stuff; wish he would direct a movie over here, that'd be something to see." I commented finding some common ground.

"Behind the times, huh? He made a couple of movies, they're shit though. I never had much love for him after he made that whack ass Godzilla movie."

"Final Wars; it wasn't that bad."

"Seriously, it was that bad; had the Big G actually kick another monster like a soccer ball and toss that giant spider into space by his fucking web. By the time King Ghidorah showed up, I was expecting Godzilla to pull out two AK-47's."

"Okay, it was that bad." We shared a little chuckle at the memory.

I turned towards the screen watching as some woman appeared walking across a darkened parking garage. The first thing I noticed was the fact that this Japanese woman had an absolutely huge ass which she was unsuccessfully trying to control, continually pulling on the hem of the miniskirt portion of her business suit. She looked like somebody's mother or even grandmother as she walked into this dingy corridor where some deranged looking transient happened to be sitting at the bottom of a stairwell she wanted to traverse.

"Is he a psycho?" I asked.

"No, just watch."

I couldn't get over how large and blocky this women's ass was thinking that I'd have to holler if I saw her in person like that. She seemed reticent to walk by him, finally trying to rush pass up the stairs. Surprisingly, the crazy guy did exactly what I was thinking grabbing and groping at her huge ass, getting up to follow the increasingly panicked woman. Her rather enormous butt came into view as she tried to escape revealing the fact that she was wearing a thong.

"What is this; an independent film or something?"

"Yeah, sure."

I turned back towards the television finding that the lunatic succeeded in capturing the woman sequestering her away in what appeared to be an abandoned men's restroom inside the building. He proceeded to fondle and grope this mature Japanese woman paying an insane amount of attention to her thick butt. I don't know if this guy was into that sort of thing in real life, but he was putting on an oscar-worthy performance in this little movie that looked like it was shot on VHS tape or something.