Bbw adventure in the golf resort


Bbw adventure in the golf resort
I took the job as a maid at the golf resort because, one, I figured I’d be
left alone a lot of the time while I cleaned, and two, because what else was
I going to do after high school? Work a bar, work a cash register at the
feed store, either one I’d have to deal with assholes who poked fun at me
for being a fat girl. I didn’t consider myself fat, just sturdy. It wasn’t
because I ate potato chips and candy bars all day, it was just genetics that
made me as strong as an ox. And not afraid of hard work, so if I spent all
day scrubbing and cleaning, and did it well, nobody would be in my face
about it. So the job at the hotel was just fine by me.

What you don’t realize until you stay in a hotel is just how much sex is
going on all the time. I guess it has to do with being on vacation, some
kind of excitement about getting to do it in new places. But not only do
lots of beds have wet stains every morning, but you find the signs of sex
everywhere-- condom wrappers in the woods out back of the place, used
condoms and the ends of joints in the sauna, panties scrunched into the
cushions of the furniture on the veranda, and-- I’m not kidding here, you’d
be surprised how often this one happens-- clumps of shaved pubic hair in the
bathtub. ("Honey, let’s go to Montana so I can shave my dick." What’s up
with that?)

Oh, and that little sign that goes on the door saying "Do Not Disturb?" You
soon learn, as a maid, that a lot of people have no idea what it’s for, and
you need to knock, say hello, jiggle the door and probably drop a room
service tray on the bathroom tiles if you don’t want to accidentally walk in
on somebody pounding away at his girlfriend (or shaving his dick). Which
probably isn’t an accident at all; a lot of guys think it’s really clever to
let some maid come in on them in the nude, like we’d just immediately drop
to the floor and start licking their pole. Well, usually they see me,
glaring at them like a linebacker for the Broncos, and they get over the
idea real quick.

Okay, I’m making it sound like I have to deal with assholes all day, and I
really don’t. I don’t deal with anybody most of the time, but now and then
you chat with folks, you find out about different parts of the country, old
ladies show you their grandkids’ pictures-- there’s a kind of freedom that
comes from knowing you’re talking to someone you’ll never talk to again.
It’s not bad. More interesting than talking to the folks I grew up with in
town.

There was this one nice couple, Roger and Patricia, middle-aged I guess
you’d call them, very nice-looking people, very fit and healthy-looking.
They were staying for two weeks so by the second or third day we got to
chatting, and within a day or two after that we had gotten pretty friendly.
"Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?" Patricia asked me.

"No, I don’t really think there’s anybody here that I’d want to be married
to," I said.

"You’re not fond of the town?"

"It’s all right, I guess," I said. "But still, I pretty much know everybody
by now, and it’s hard to imagine any of them seeming any more appealing than
they do already."

She laughed. "Maybe you’re waiting for someone to come along to the hotel."

I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think the guys who come to the hotel are looking
for me," I said.

"My dear," she said, "People are always looking for more than you’d
imagine."

I looked at her to see if she was joking. "You really think guys are
looking for somebody shaped like me?"

"I think," she said, and she put her hand on mine to emphasize her point,
"there are a lot of people who would find you, as a person, very attractive,
your shape, your intellect, and your personality." She stood up. "It only
takes one of those to win somebody over; the rest will follow soon enough.
Don’t sell yourself short in any department."

I thought about what she said while I cleaned their suite after they went to
run. I guess what she said was true; if somebody went for one part of you,
they could look past the other parts, maybe even get to where they liked
them okay. I started to pull the sheets off their bed-- noticing that there
was a very wet stain in the middle of it, as there had been every morning.
I blushed at the thought-- sex every night. Hard to imagine when you’d
never really had sex at all-- been felt up at parties, I jerked a guy off
once, practically ripped it off him if truth be told, I kinda got into the
spirit of things a little too much. But that was basically it. And to
think of-- doing it every night.

I suddenly realized I was sort of rubbing my thighs together. In fact, I
had an itch in my pussy that I was going to have to take care of if I didn’t
want to be distracted the whole day. They were going to be gone for at
least two hours, I knew, so I quickly put the DND sign on the door and
bolted it for extra safety (this WOULD be the day they forgot something--
I’d be the first maid who ever got naked to "accidentally" surprise a
guest). Then, scarcely able to believe what I was doing, I started to
undress myself in front of the mirror.

I don’t think my face is unattractive. It’s round, it’s pale, I blush
easily, but it’s open and honest. I see thinner faces that I think look
mean, or bored, or vain, and I prefer mine. Sometimes, anyway.

Then there was my top. Yeah, I’m pretty big and square-shouldered. Dad
would make that crack about how I should have gone out for football, even
after it was obvious that it bugged me. But as I unbuttoned my blouse my
boobs were big and round, boys liked that, let the room get dark at a party
and my big boobs suddenly got more attention than I’d gotten with the lights
on. I unbuttoned my bra and let them hang loose over my soft but not too
big tummy. Like I said, I don’t think I’m exactly fat, just big. I rubbed
them up and let them fall, then pinched the nipples, which stood up. That
sent a jolt to my pussy, too, and suddenly I had an idea, a very dirty idea.

I went over to the wet stain on the bed, and let my big tits flop onto it.
It was cold and slimy, but I started to warm it up with my body. I let my
tits roll in the ooze, smearing my nipples with what was there. A little
gob of goo made a string from my nipple to the bed. I held my tit up to my
mouth, and then impulsively, I licked the goo off my own nipple. I smelled
sex, sweat, the bleachy smell of sperm. I sucked my nipple, sucking it into
my mouth for a minute or two, long past the point of having licked
everything I’d smeared on me off.

Now I stood up and let the rest of my uniform slide off me, and then my
panties, revealing my broad, boxy hips, my big round ass, my strong, sturdy
thighs. I got onto the bed, positioning my big butt into the middle of the
wet spot, as if I had been responsible for it, and I used my finger to
spread my pussy lips wide. Now I started rubbing my clit, my ass grinding
into the wet spot. My other hand rubbed my tits, then my thighs, then my
big ass, caressing my ass as it squirmed against the wet spot, as my fingers
flashed over my clit, faster and faster. Now I was fucking the bed, as if
Roger was fucking me, as if he was on top of me, his cock driving into my
pussy, pushing my ass into the slimy wet stain on the bed.

I squeezed my ass as if he were holding onto it, using it to pull himself
deeper into me. My tits bounced up and down furiously, my fat belly
jiggled, my ass dug itself a trench into the bed as Roger, in my
imagination, dug into my trench, my vagina that had never had anything in it
other than my fingers (my cherry having broken in gym class years before-- I
thought I was having a period every week). I slid my fingers deep inside,
thrust them in me as if they were a cock, not that I knew what a cock felt
like. I could feel my juice running down my ass. My come started to build
and I squeezed my nipples so hard I thought they’d pop. Then it went
through me, my thighs squeezed together, sparks shot out the top of my head.
I relaxed and sank back into the goo I was sitting in and looked at myself
in the mirror, legs up, pussy spread.

Slowly I lifted myself out of the bed and stood up. My ass had marks like
someone had been holding onto it for dear life. (Well, one side did,
anyway, the other hand had been busy.) My face and chest were as red as a
stoplight. The wet spot was considerably larger, my juice had mixed with
theirs. Theirs. Suddenly I had guilt-- Patricia had been so nice to me and
there I was thinking of fucking her husband. Now a bit ashamed of myself, I
wiped my wet butt off with the sheet, then quickly put my uniform back on
and stripped the bed. I put the sheets in my laundry bag, then opened the
door and looked out. No one there, so I quickly removed the DND sign and
went back to cleaning up as if nothing had happened, as if the door had been
wide open the whole time.

It wasn’t until I was rolling the cart to the next room, thinking about how
I would look at them with a straight face when I’d been jilling off to
thinking about fucking him in their own bed, that it really hit me how I had
not only been licking up his cum but her juices too, when I’d spread my tits
over it and then licked them off. I looked at the sheet, crumpled in my
bag, and picked it up and sniffed it again, this time smelling mainly a
feminine smell, hers and mine, mixed together. I’d licked up another
woman’s pussy drippings, I said to myself. I thought about it for a minute,
and then I decided I was okay with that.

* * * * *

That evening I was about to end my shift when Roger and Patricia came
walking out from the hotel toward the sauna, which is up a little hill in
the woods, about 25 yards from the main building. As a result it doesn’t
get much use, although what use it does get usually seems to involve sex, as
I always discover while cleaning up.

They were dressed as if for swimming, he with a linen shirt over his trunks,
she with a one-piece suit on and a wrap billowing around her legs. He also
had a bottle of wine in an insulated cooler slung over one arm. They were
cheerful and friendly as ever, a really nice and classy older couple. As
opposed to me, who’d been wallowing nude in their juices, I thought, and
blushed. Had to not think about what I’d done, or I’d never be able to
speak to them.

"We tried to operate the sauna last night, but couldn’t make it work,"
Patricia said. As opposed to something you operated last night which worked
just fine-- stop! Do not think about that, I said firmly to my
subconscious.

"They probably shut off the main switch," I said. "They’re not supposed to
but they do anyway." I went over to the cover and lifted it, then turned it
up. "It’ll take an hour at least to reach temperature."

He looked at her. "That will give us just enough time to enjoy a glass of
wine," he said to his wife. Then he turned to me. "Would you care to join
us?"

He was just being polite, I knew. "Thank you, but I’m not even old enough."

"I doubt that we have to worry about the Feds swooping down on us out here,"
he said, smiling a crinkly smile. "What time do you get off?"

Uh, about ten thirty this morning, in your bed? "Actually, my shift’s over.
It’s very kind of you, but I--"

Patricia reached out and put her hand on my arm. She had soft, supple
hands; my arm tingled as her fingers gripped it lightly. "Please join us,
my dear. We would very much appreciate having the company of such a lovely
and intelligent young person."

They really did mean it. I couldn’t turn them down. "Uh, thanks," I said.
"I’d love to."

I thought they were going to set up in the deck chairs around the sauna--
there’s a great view of the sun going down from here, which is why they’re
there. But Roger opened the sauna door and lay his cooler down on the
wooden bench, then took out the bottle, the corkscrew and three wine
glasses. Three.

Suddenly the thing I hadn’t believed when it crossed my mind became a lot
more real. It was no accident that they had come out here in their suits.
They had seen me, and they were here-- to seduce me. The question was,
which one of them? And how did I feel about that? I’d wanted to fuck Roger
when I’d been rubbing my pussy, but was that what I wanted now?

Then I found myself saying, stupidly, "So you came prepared for company,
with the three glasses?"

"Actually, four," Roger said as he pulled the cork. "You often run into
another couple, and it would be ungracious not to be able to offer."

Of course. Of course, of course, they weren’t here to seduce me, they were
just being nice. How foolish of me, to let my lonely horny imagination run
off with itself. What an idiot.

Roger closed the door and slid the lock. Patricia took off her wrap or
sarong or whatever it was, and reclined on the bench, stretching her long,
athletic legs out. She was a fine-looking woman for her age, lean and tan,
yet not bony like so many of the rich ladies we saw here. She saw me
looking her over and I turned away to Roger, just as he handed me a glass of
white wine. "Cheers," he said.

"Thanks," I said. Then he looked at me, and said, "You don’t mind?" It
took me a moment before I realized he was clutching the top button of his
shirt.

"Oh, please," I said. "Go ahead, it’s like being at the pool."

"She’s exactly right, Roger," Patricia said, as if correcting him. "In
fact," she said to me, "if you want to just get down to your bra and
panties, well, there’s no real difference between that and a swimsuit to any
sensible person, is there?"

I looked at her for a moment. Was she talking me out of my clothes? For a
reason, I mean? Or was that just my wild imagination running in horny
overdrive, again? "Sure," I found myself saying. If they wanted to seduce
me, I was ready to be seduced. If they didn’t, then they were right, it was
harmless. Either way, I suddenly wanted to be out of my clothes, and so I
unbuttoned my maid’s uniform-- as they both watched me.

I slid it over my breasts and then down over my hips, just as I had done in
their bedroom hours earlier. If you asked me there wasn’t much sexy about
my plain white bra and panties and my big ass and belly sticking out of
them, but they both stared at me, enraptured.

"Lovely, isn’t she?" Roger said.

"So youthful and strong and beautiful," Patricia said, standing up. She
took my hands and looked into my eyes. We gazed at each other for a moment,
but nothing happened. Was she afraid of my reaction? Didn’t she want to
fuck me? I looked at Roger. He smiled back at me-- but still they seemed
to be in no hurry to do the thing that would make it impossible to pretend
that we weren’t here for sex. Maybe they just took things slower, because
they were older, but I needed it, now. I grabbed Patricia’s head, a hand on
both sides of her face, and pulled her to my lips and kissed her, mashing
her lips hard, shoving my tongue between her lips, grinding my face into
hers. We did that for a moment and then she stepped back, wide-eyed and
panting a little.

"Sorry I got a little rough there," I said.

"Shh," she said, and then she put her hands on my hips and her arms around
me and began rocking me, slowly, as we kissed, gently and deeply, my big
floppy breasts mashing against her small ones. Now her tongue flicked
against my lips, and we kissed romantically as I felt her butt and she
responded by gently caressing my back and over my hips, then drawing her
fingers up the side of my panties and along the skin. I shivered with the
electric feel of her fingers.

A moment later she stepped back, her gaze locked on mine, and she slipped
one strap of her suit off, then the other, and lowered the top to reveal her
chest. Her breasts were indeed small and a bit sagged, but she was still in
great shape. Quite a contrast to myself, I thought, as I reached back and
undid my bra and my big hooters plumped out of their cage. But Patricia
looked at mine marvelingly, like a kid in a candy store, and began stroking
them, feeling her way around the cup of my breasts. I rubbed her nipples
with my fingertips, and then slipped my hands inside her suit and slipped it
down over her hips, pushing it to the floor. She was naked now, with a
neatly trimmed blonde bush and lean, muscular thighs. I slipped my own
panties off, and then she pushed me toward the bench. I hopped up onto the
second row, leaving my legs apart and flashing my beaver at Roger, which it
amused me to do.

Patricia placed herself between my legs and climbed on top of me, just high
enough to kiss me again. Then she moved down to my tits and began sucking
one of my nipples, caressing my whole big boob as she did it. She did that
for a few moments and I could feel my pussy getting wetter and opening up.
Then she moved down, kissing my stomach, and finally arrived at my pussy.
She kissed my inner thighs but I wanted tongue, now, so I thrust my crotch
into her face as my big ass ground against the bench, my tummy jiggling, my
tits bouncing up and down. She got the idea and her tongue went to my slit
and licked upwards in one smooth slide.

I about exploded there, the first feel of a tongue on my pussy and clit. It
felt so fantastic, the way she glided over my pussy, and I knew I wanted to
do it to her too. I squeezed my nipples as she licked at me, over and over,
like a cat-- in less than two minutes I was suddenly cumming, my hand going
down to press on my clit as the orgasms rocketed through me.

I lay there for a moment and she just sat there, watching me. I looked over
and Roger was watching too, so I took my big tit in my hand and licked it,
just for him.

After a moment Patricia and I sat up and we kissed some more, then I pushed
her back to do the same for her that she’d done for me. She spread her legs
apart and I dove right in, burying my face in her wet, gleaming pussy,
trying to shove my tongue as far as it would go. Here I had gone in just a
day from being a little freaked out about another woman’s juices to wanting
to drink them in, to smell and taste her briny pussy and cover myself in it.
I licked at her vigorously and her hand came down to start rubbing her
clit. It was a beautiful sight, watching her narrow fingers flicking
furiously up and down until she too came, her thighs slapping against my
head.

Patricia lay there, exhausted, smiling at me. But I wanted more, I wanted
everything. I got up and went over to Roger, standing there watching us
patiently, not even touching the obvious tentpole in his trunks. I looked
at Patricia to make sure it was okay, and then I straddled him, that cock in
his trunks pressing straight up against my snatch, and began kissing him.
It was different, kissing a man this time, rougher and hungrier, kind of the
way I’d kissed Patricia, except that he was clearly enjoying licking the
taste of his wife’s pussy off my lips. I stood up a little and rubbed the
cock in his trunks, then got down on my knees and pulled them down so it
would spring out.

I licked my lips and then sucked the head into my mouth. With each bob up
and down, I went further onto his cock until by the fourth or fifth round he
was pushing against the back of my throat. It was wonderful having my mouth
filled by that warm, living animal, just as natural and fulfilling as
smearing Patricia’s pussy all over my face a few minutes before had been.
Well, I guess I’m not a lesbian, I thought, at least not only one.

My pussy needed some, too, though, and so I decided it was time to fuck
Roger, just liked I’d imagined before. I got up and straddled him again, as
wet as I was his cock slid inside me easily, he almost jumped with how
quickly I took him straight in. As my big ass bounced up and down on his
thighs, Patricia came over to us and kissed me, then the three of us were
kissing, tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths. Patricia put
her arms around me from behind and caressed my big tits as they bounced up
and down against my belly and I rode up and down on her husband’s cock,
amazed at how complete and satisfying it was to finally have one inside me,
a feeling I wanted as often as possible now.

A moment later I could see he was starting to cum and so I ground my ass and
my big sturdy thighs into his crotch as deeply as I could, and felt him
twitching and squirting inside me. When he was finished I stood up to get
off him, and as I did Patricia knelt down to lick his limp cock, licking up
its mess of my juices and his. I couldn’t help but think back to my licking
up their juices in their room earlier that day, and so I quickly found
myself on my knees again, licking myself off his reddened, soft cock and
exchanging tongue kisses with Patricia as I did so. Then she nodded to me
to stand up, and we both got up and she began kissing me again, pressing me
against the bench, then spreading my big thighs apart to slide her fingers
along the outside of my pussy. Her hand came out covered with pussy juice
and white ropy cum, and I immediately grabbed it and stuck it into my mouth,
licking both fluids off of it. She pushed me back again onto the bench, and
began licking my pussy again, this time to suck her husband’s cum out of it.
As she did Roger came over to me and I took his cock in my hand and
started stroking it, feeling a little hardness come back into it.

When I had stroked it up to a reasonable degree of hardness, I climbed out
from under Patricia but pushing her down, kept her on her knees and with her
ass in the air. Now I guided Roger’s cock as it went into his wife’s pussy,
and I kept my fingers on the place where it went in, feeling it slide
between my fingers as he fucked her. As I watched him fuck her, her ass
rocking back and forth, her pink asshole spread open, her small tits swaying
back and forth, I started rubbing my clit again in front of them,
unashamedly and proudly, pulling my belly up and reaching down between my
meaty thighs into my steaming snatch. There were so many more things I
wanted to do, and they would only be here for three more days. But when we
were relaxing, exhaustedly, covered in cum and pussy juice, an hour or two
later, they told me that they know many more older, cultured and
sophisticated couples who travel as they do, looking for young people
interested in a broader experience of the world. And that if I wanted, they
would let a selected few of them know to look for Katie, a maid at the
Resort in , Montana.


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