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Old 05-13-2012, 10:14 PM   #1
Britt Reid
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Default Mcdonalds Girl - by Kissy the Amazon ~(BBW, Explicit Lesbian Sex, ~SWG)

~BBW, Explicit Lesbian Sex, ~SWG – sometimes chance meetings lead to unexpected new things

Mcdonalds Girl
by Kissy the Amazon

Chapter One – First Contact

She was dressed in all black except for her pink ball cap when we first met, but that’s getting ahead of the story. You need to know a little about me first.

I was tired of meeting the Gypsy Hippie girls who didn't shave their legs or pits. They dressed like me, they liked the same music as me and I'd meet them at concerts or at campgrounds, hit it off and only manage a one night stand with them.

I was sick of meeting the intellectual snobs at the cafe or bookstore, they always became holier than thou or smarter than thou after a couple of dates.

I was sick of meeting the environmental dykes at the action meetings who had neuroses about their dad's SUVs, and I was sick of the twiggy vegetarians I kept meeting at the market.

Basically I was sick of meeting women like me.

I don't think I ever had an outline for the perfect girl, and living in this part of North Carolina I wasn't about to be picky. I took on the mind-set that you can't know if she's the one until you get to know each other.

Sure it helped that they liked the same music and fashions I did, the same books and movies, the same coffees and teas, and the same social causes, but all those women and I could never work it out. I needed to try something different, someone who was a type of person I haven't met yet.

A regular day in my life usually consists of waking up with the sun, brewing tea of coffee depending on my mood, eating a banana or apple for breakfast while my beverage brewed, when the drink was nice and hot I sit on my balcony sipping it and writing until noon or one.

If I can't write I'll go shopping or for a jog, at noon I go to the cafe or deli for a vegetarian wrap or a salad, I check my email, go home and write some more.

When my friends get off work I usually find something to do with them or go to one of my clubs, nature club, book club, eventually I come home and grab dinner if I didn't eat out. I'll go for a jog then shower, watch about an hour of TV. then read in bed until I fall asleep. On the weekends I go hiking or something like that with friends.

I'm not the type of person that meets the kind of girl in the pink cap, and I'm not the kind of girl who would regularly hook up with someone like I’m describing here, considering where I first saw her.

I never go to McDonalds. Never ever, but since I was sick of meeting the same types of girls all the time I figured I would start going to new places. So when I heard that McDonalds now had wi-fi I figured I would meet a different class of women there.

The idea of the women I expected to find there, flatulent rednecks with bad teeth and farmer's tans, did not appeal to me at all, but I thought it would be nice to break out of my world at least.

So, on that day, instead of going to my regular cafe or deli, I went to the local McDonalds. I ordered their southwest salad, I had them leave the chicken off, and a cappuccino. The coffee wasn't that good, but the salad wasn't bad.

I had finished half my salad when I opened my computer, logged onto the wi-fi, and began checking my emails. I wasn't really paying attention to the other customers; I hardly looked up when two people seated themselves two tables down, just barely within my peripheral vision.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the smooth skin of an olive toned hand, smooth and petite yet adult, no ring on the ring finger, belonging to a woman giving her escort a napkin. It was the cutest little hand I had seen, I couldn't help but think that it would fit perfectly in mine. But it appeared she was both taken and straight. When I realized that I felt silly, More than silly - pathetic and desperate.

I wanted to look, but I didn't want to. I wanted to see the women who the hand belonged to, but I was afraid I would find she didn't match her hands. I looked down as though I were gazing at my keyboard but I was looking across the floor until I found her feet, the same color as her hands, nails a crimson red, petite and lovely little feet in black flip-flops,

I couldn't see her legs, if I looked up to see them I would be obviously looking at her. I suppose my senses came to life, I could hear her voice. She was asking her companion about what he did with his friends the weekend before. Her voice was smooth, rich, the kind of narrator's voice you can close your eyes and see colors in, and she had the slightest, sweet as molasses, southern drawl.

I stretched and rotated my head the opposite side so when I rotated my head towards her it would be as though it were because I was stretching. I turned to see her.

She was dressed in all black except for her pink ball cap. Her eyes were sharp blue, piercing and transfixing. To my surprise she was staring at me.

I must have been in a trance by her eyes because all I remember seeing was her face, I don't remember seeing anything of her body at the time. She had think eyebrows, nut brown like the hair flowing from beneath her cap, tanned skin, a petite little nose, the smallest little sliver of fat under her chin that usually indicates just the right amount of fat for a woman to be thin and curvy, She had a petite little mouth, she smiled at me and I could see her perfect teeth. I instinctively smiled back.

Shortly after our gazes locked, when I was trying to focus on responding to my emails, she turned and began sitting sort of sideways, half watching the counter and I thought occasionally glancing at me. I would glance at her occasionally. It was then that I noticed something unique about her.

Her tiny hands and feet, and her petite face didn't match her body at all, and yet they did. Her body was fat. Not just chubby or plump or thick, she was fat. Her hands and feet alone looked like they belonged to a petite curvy girl, not someone as big as she was. It was like the fat went from her neckline and tapered out to her chin, like it went from her elbows and tapered out to her wrists, and from her knees tapering out to her ankles. Her body between her neckline, elbows, and knees was as though it had been puffed up with marshmallows,

I doubted I would be able to get both my hands around her fat upper arms, and I have pretty long fingers. I could only see the skin of her calves arms and chest since she was wearing black capris with a black tank top. She had smooth tanned skin all over and despite the fat of her arms she didn't seem dimply or saggy in the least.

I had never been attracted to someone of her size yet her face was so pretty that even after I saw how big she was my heart beat faster when she smiled at me the second time.

I knew then that I had to talk to her, but how? I could only assume that the guy across from her was her beau, and most women are strange about flirting with other women in front of their male friends. If I talked to her now I might blow it completely.

I tried to send her a signal but I could never get our gazes to catch again. She was the complete opposite of partners I had been with before. She wasn't a skinny little vegetarian, or a snob too good for McDonalds, or a gypsy who only dresses in broom skirts and low cut tank tops.

She obviously wasn't a health nut like the girls at the gym, but one with an appetite as evidenced by the large shake and supersized fries that accompanied her two burgers. Her voice was soft like a woman's should be and not harsh like an angry dyke.

She was overweight and yet pretty. She obviously didn't exercise and yet I still wanted to be with her. But, how was I ever going to get to know her?

She and her companion left in an SUV before I worked up the courage to approach her.

She probably doesn’t even like girls, I told myself and dismissed the whole thing up to me being desperate and latching on to the first woman who smiled at me. Why else would my heart beat so fast because of someone so fat?

I tried to forget about her. I couldn't. No matter how many times I told myself I wasn't her type and she wasn't mine I couldn't get her off my mind. Perhaps it was because I knew no one like her that I was just curious about the way she was, so different from everyone I've ever known. Eventually I found myself waiting in the McDonalds for four hours checking emails and writing hoping she would show up.

There was also another problem. My lease was coming to an end, and though I liked my apartment I needed a change so I started browsing the housing section on Craigslist. I didn't find anything and was about to close the window when I saw a “missed connections” link. Out of curiosity I clicked it.

I must have stared for five minutes at a title about halfway down the page that jumped out at me. It read "Tall girl in brown tank, McDonalds on Monday in Durham."

I finally clicked on the link and read:
"Dear Tall Dark and Pretty,

I saw you on Monday, you were on your computer, you had a salad, but you never finished it.

I was with my brother and we were sitting near you, we smiled at each other; we caught eyes again when we left and climbed into my SUV. You had on cute bamboo flops, loose orange skirt, brown tank, your hair was pulled back in a ponytail, you had black hair, and brown eyes.

I've never felt this way for another woman before, but I thought we connected maybe. Message me, tell me what I had on, and tell me about your leg tattoo. I hope you get it right.

I clicked the link to reply to the post. It took me awhile to write it, thinking what if it really is to someone else, what if I get the person wrong? What if it's not her?
"Dear McDonalds Girl,

You had on black flops, red nail polish, black capris made out of some sort of stretch material, a black tank top, and a pink cap with "USA" printed across it.

I'm glad to hear you were with your brother - I had other fears. I'm not sure of all of what you ate but I know you had a milkshake when you went outside.

My leg tattoo is a tribal abstract shark from midcalf to ankle. I hope I got it right. As far as the connection goes, I thought so too."
I also sent her my email and name, and it wasn’t an hour later that I got home, checked my email again and had her response.

You get an A! I was beginning to give up hope on you seeing that post! I'm so excited that you did. I'm Sarah Jayne. If you can, meet me at the same McDonalds tonight at nine, wear the same clothes, and hopefully I'll see you there. If you don't get this by then we'll have to reschedule."
I replied that I would be there, I dug those clothes out of the laundry room, I had barely enough time to wash them but I did. I nervously took a shower, applied make-up. I probably overdid that because I was so excited. It was odd. I'm an adult and I've been with plenty of women but for some reason I had so many butterflies in my stomach I felt like I was in middle school again girl-crushing on Ms. Styles again. (But that's a whole 'nother story)

Last edited by Britt Reid; 05-13-2012 at 10:18 PM.
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Old 05-13-2012, 10:17 PM   #2
Britt Reid
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Chapter Two: - the meet-up

I barely got there in time. I ran through the door and scanned the restaurant looking for Sarah Jayne and there she was in the seat I had been in waiting for me. I sat down across from her all smiles.

"Hi." I said

"Hi." she said, there was a moment of silence where neither of us said anything then we both chuckled a little.

"Sorry," she said, "I just, I don't know what to say."

"Don't be sorry, I don't really know what to say either."

I saw a tray of food on the table next to us.

"Is that for us?"

"Oh!" she threw her hands up remembering, "I forgot, I went ahead and got some food for us."

She handed me a southwest salad, no chicken.

"Is this okay?" she asked, "I was pretty sure this is what you had last time and I didn't know if you ate chicken but I just kinda assumed you didn't so I had them leave it off."

"Woe, you were paying more attention to me than I thought. How'd you know I was a vegetarian though?"

"You look like one."

"I look like one?"

"Yeah, the way you dress, and how thin you are, just sorta looks like a vegetarian," she said, "ooo I'm sorry that sounded wrong."

"It's okay," I smiled "I am a vegetarian."

"Okay, I'm not, is that okay?"

"Yeah that's fine," I said, "honestly I'm a little sick of vegetarians."

This made her laugh and she unwrapped one of her big macs.

Even though the seats were uncomfortable, especially I thought for her, we ended up talking until long after the food was gone. I had my salad and two cups of coffee, she ate two big macs, fries and a milkshake. They had to ask us to leave so they could close.

She was just so fun to talk to, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her sharp eyes, her petite nose, and her perfect teeth, I wanted to kiss her so badly. We talked about everything. Sarah Jayne was nothing like the people I knew, and I found her interesting, amazing and appealing.

I recited the list to myself.

She likes country, she likes fast food, she likes meat, she drives an SUV, she likes mainstream movies, and trash novels, and her most favorite thing to do in the whole world is to lay out on the beach. A beach towel, a book, some snacks, and she's set. And, I find myself wanting to do that with her.

After McDonalds we walked around the nearby campus for awhile still talking before we both reluctantly had to go home, I noticed how I had to go slow when I walked with her or she started getting out of breath.

Sarah Jayne was an out-of-shape overweight meat eater who listened to country, read trash novels, liked Hollywood fodder, and drove a gas guzzler, and yet pleasant thoughts of her and our conversation kept me up all night.

The next Friday I called Sarah Jayne in the morning and asked if she would like to come over for dinner. That afternoon I spent two hours at the market trying to figure out what a girl like her would want to eat. I knew she ate more than me so I had to make more than usual, and I knew she ate meat, but I didn't know how to cook any meat meals.

I decided on chicken. Someone told me it was really easy to make chicken once, and when I got home I found a recipe for chicken online. It was really easy, just pour some Italian dressing on it and bake it in the oven for a bit.

Unlike all the other girls I had tried to build a relationship with Sarah Jayne was actually on time. This gave her points. I answered the door, she was wearing a really short denim skirt which allowed me to see her thighs, the looked like they had been puffed up by marshmallows as well, they were large and pillowy and they too had no dimpling or stretch marks.

I'd never touched thighs like that, they looked like I could sink all the way into them, and I wanted to touch them. Her top was a light white sweater, it was too small for her and I could see how her body was stretching it out, and her upper arms were stretching out the sleeves but it didn't look bad on her, her white teeth beamed from her smile and her eyes screamed 'hug me'. I gave her a brief hug and invited her in.

I sat two places at my table, poured her a glass of red wine then one for myself. I tried not to stare at her the entire time I served the food. I tried not to stare at her as she ate either; her eyes were just so perfect. I served her chicken but only took vegetables for myself.

"This is really good!"

"Really? I've never cooked chicken before."

"You're a natural," she took a bite closing her eyes and clearly enjoying her food.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Well, I like most foods, not a picky eater at all, isn't it obvious?"


"Isn't it obvious that I'm not a picky eater?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, Yes it was obvious that she wasn't a picky eater, I mean she was enjoying my first chicken dinner, and well her body was a pretty clear sign of that too.

"I'm fat," she continued, "kind of a give away that I'm not a picky eater."

"Oh, you're not. I mean... I didn't..."

She giggled, "It's okay if you call me fat, I know what I am and I like me. Truthfully I didn't really expect you to respond to my post because skinnies don't usually like bigger people, but I'm glad you like fat chicks."

She smiled at me.

"Honestly, Sarah Jayne" I said, "I really don't prefer fat chicks. I've never even kissed a bigger girl before."

She looked down at the floor for a moment.

"It wasn't your body I was smiling at when our eyes caught each other that first time." I was trying to lift her back up, "It was your eyes."

"My eyes."

"Yeah, when we first caught each other's eyes I was so transfixed by yours that I didn't even notice your body until later."

She blushed, "But, you did smile at me again then."

"Yeah, even though I don't usually go for girls like you there was just something there, I couldn't help but smile at you, I'm making a fool of myself right now and I still can't stop smiling at you, I don't care about your size, I like you."

"You know I've never done anything with a girl before" she said, "it's sorta the same thing, there's just something about you."

"We can take it slow, just see how things go since you're in such new territory."

She giggled, "you're in new territory too ya know."

"How am I in new territory?"

"You've never been with a fat chick before right? Trust me it's totally different from being with a skinnie."

"And if you've never been with any girls before you know this how?"

"I used to be a skinnie." she laughed, "five years ago, in high school I was 180 pounds lighter than I am now."

"180 pounds lighter? Wow, how? I mean what happened? No it's not my business..."

"It's okay." she reassured me, "I never exercised, hated it, I obviously love food and I have a thing for fast food, just love it. When my metabolism started to change after high school I just kept up the same habits as I had before, and before I knew it I had gained a lot of weight. At first I wanted to lose it but I never could bring myself to diet or exercise and the weight kept coming. I grew to accept it and I even started appreciating the fat."

It was an odd topic and it made me not want to eat anymore, but I was transfixed by the way she was telling it, I was looking at her body trying to imagine her being 180 pounds lighter and I couldn’t picture it, "Appreciating the fat?"

"Yeah," she giggled, "I started to realize I was fine with being bigger, and that I didn’t have to be skinny or thin like I used to be, I found out that there's a whole subculture of people who very nearly worship fat."

"They worship fat?"

"Yeah, they do, I don't, I mean my life doesn't revolve around my fat, but it is nice to know I don't have to worry about what I eat or anything."

"You're right, this is all new territory to me."

After dinner we had pecan pie with ice cream, Sarah Jayne ended up having two slices, she apologized for making a pig of herself, but I told her I didn't mind, and honestly for some reason I really didn't mind.

We sat on the couch and watched some dumb Reese Witherspoon movie. I was leaning against Sarah Jayne as we watched the movie and chatted, she had her arm around me, and she really was like a pillow, I sank into her fat body which seemed to give way and form itself to my body leaning against it. She laughed when I asked her if I was smushing her, "You really haven't been with a fat chick before, skinny little thing like you can’t smush all this."

After the movie I turned on my side and laid my head on her chest, and draped my arm across her big belly.

"You really are comfortable." I whispered.

"Another good thing about being so fat." she said

"I'm starting to think you're proud of being fat."

"Sure, I'm proud of who I am."

I looked up at her and our eyes caught each other.

"What are you thinking?" I asked her

"I'm thinking I could use some coffee so we can stay up later together"

"Cream or sugar?" I asked getting up

"Both, lots of it too."

"How much is lots?"

"It should look almost white."

"That is lots."

As I was pouring sugar and cream into her coffee,she came up behind me and gently turned me around. Our eyes caught each other for a moment.

"I just need to..." she said coming closer.

"Me too..." I said and our lips met. We wrapped our arms around each other, I could grab my wrists where usually I could grab my elbows when hugging other girls. I pulled her as close as I could, she pulled me as close as she could, her flesh was being mashed between us, I needed more of her. I kissed her more passionately. She smelled like cocoa butter and honey.

I led her to my bedroom.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked when she lifted my shirt off of me. She nodded and sat me on the bed, she began to lift her sweater over her head. As she peeled her sweater off it was almost as though her flesh expended like a sponge when you stop squeezing it.

My eyes were wide, she was so fat, and yet I was still feeling myself getting warmer. "Wow, you really are... big."

"You can use the word 'fat' you know."

"You're fatter than I thought." I said and she smiled at me pushing her miniskirt down off her waist to the floor.

"You like being called fat, don't you?" I asked

She nodded pulling my skirt from my hips and away from me. "It turns me on knowing I'm the fattest you've been with. Does it turn you on knowing you're my first girl?"

"Yeah it kinda does, I placed my calves on either side of her wide pillowy hips and pulled her towards me. I took her panties off of her, they were gigantic, I squeezed her, she rubbed against me. I was exploring something new, something delicious. Her bone structure was tiny, petite like her hands and feet and facial features, and all of her was really fat, I sank into her deeply, her skin gave to my touch so easily that I could push into her flesh several inches. I was amazed by this.

She kissed me, and removed my bra, she was this heavy mass of flesh on top of me, rubbing her mound of venus against my clit, her blubberous body pushing me down and her tongue licked my nipples.

"You liked that?" she asked

"You sure I'm your first girl?"

"I'm just giving you the things I like."

She drug her flesh down my body until she found my clit with her tongue. Then she rotated, placing her legs on either side of my head, I was being smothered by this mound of a woman, and I liked it, all these new sensations I was feeling with my first sexual encounter with a fat woman, it wasn't easy getting through her flesh but I found her womanhood, the smell of raw sex, the taste of a woman. We serviced each other until we both came.

Naked we lay in bed. She was out of breath and we laid against each other. "Matilda, you can use the fat word more, next time."

"You want me to call you fat more?"

"Yeah, like I said..."

"It turns you on doesn't it."

She blushed and nodded. I squeezed my body against her.

"I'm glad that happened." I said

"Me too," she kissed my forehead, "I'm glad I met you and know you."

"You too." I paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm glad that you're so fat."

She giggled, "Once you go fat you never go back."

I squeezed her belly, "I don't wanna go back, fatty."

"Now you're catchin' on, skinnie"

"Fatty!" I poked her belly.

"Keep that up and I'm gonna havta really give it to you."

"I have a strap on with adjustable straps so it should fit your FAT hips."

"That sounds interesting."

“Then maybe later we can get some ice cream and you can get even fatter!” it felt strange talking this way, encouraging that sort of behavior, and using that word as a compliment, but every time I said it she seemed to get more riled up, and I could feel the heat radiating from her body.

“What if I did get fatter?” She asked.

“So what if you do? I mean you’re already so fat.”

“I’m going to get fatter, anyway.” She smiled at me like that was a blessed treasure of a thing.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s likely that you’ll get fatter,” I sad as I straddled her, I had to practically do a split to sit on her wide hips, "Fatty fat fat fat."

"Give me the strap-on,” she shot back.


Requested disclaimer by author: "McDonald’s Girl" is an unfinished work, and is the legal property of Kissy the Amazon©. No portion of this may be used outside of the websites which have the expressed permission to do so.
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