Nerdy BBW meet-cute at the library
By: Date: July 24, 2020 Categories: Sex stories, and erotic novels Tags: , , , ,
nerdy bbw

“That’s a really good one,” said the woman beside him. “Have you read it before?”

He stood before the Graphic Novel shelves at the public library, and had just taken down a copy of Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi’s memoir of growing up in Iran during the Islamic Revolution. He had noticed the woman already at the shelves when he arrived, but gave her only the briefest glance before looking for the book he wanted. Now he turned to face the speaker.

She had straight medium brown hair, with streaks of blue and purple, that went past her shoulders down her back. She wore large eyeglasses with thick black frames. Her face was pretty, with a slight roundness from the extra mass she carried – she was somewhat fat, with thick arms and thighs, a belly that bulged and drooped a little, and large round breasts. Her figure was just barely hourglass. She wore a dark grey tee shirt, black denim jeans, and sandals. Her skin was pale and clear. She stood two or three inches shorter than him.

He saw what she held in her hand – three volumes of Marvel’s Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. “I love that book,” he said. “When I first read them I thought it was the best thing ever.”

“You don’t now? What changed your mind?”

“About a week later I found Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur.”

She brightened. “Those are awesome!” she exclaimed, almost too loud for the library. She calmed herself and indicated the book he was holding. “Have you read that before?” she asked again.

“Twice. Been over a year and I thought I’d read it again. I should just buy it, but I already have too many books for my shelves.”

She recoiled in mock-horror. “Too many books? Blasphemy. There’s no such thing.”

He smiled. “You think so?”

“I think your real problem is that you need more bookshelves.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right. Hey, would you like to get some lunch with me? I think we need to keep talking.”

“Sure, I like to eat,” she replied. “Obviously,” she added, gesturing to her own body.

They went to a burger joint a couple of blocks from the library, an independent restaurant not part of any chain franchise. Their conversation continued over double cheeseburgers, onion rings, and milkshakes. He had offered to pay for hers, but she wouldn’t have it: “This isn’t a date,” she said.

Her name was Jennifer. She was into a variety of comic books, from the mainstream titles of Marvel’s Avengers, Spiderman, and X-Men, and DC’s Batman, Wonder Woman, Swamp Thing, and Green Lantern, to Vertigo titles like The Sandman and Hellblazer, to titles that he’d never heard of but was interested to look into from what she told him about them. She agreed with him that Frank Miller was a fine illustrator, but had only ever written two good books (Ronin and The Dark Knight Returns.) She was also a fan of science fiction, more of books than of movies and television. Her favorite authors were Octavia Butler and C J Cherryh. She acknowledged the importance of Star Wars to the mainstreaming of sci-fi, although she personally had no great opinion of it. Star Trek she liked better, at least the earlier series (up through Voyager.)

In less than an hour of conversation, he decided that Jennifer was one of the coolest people he’d ever met, a nerd after his own heart. She chattered on at length about comics, movies, and novels without a hint of self-consciousness. He was also impressed by her intelligence – she was smart as fuck. He considered himself something of an intellectual, but felt almost like a simpleton when talking with her. He desperately hoped this wouldn’t be the only time they met.

“Can I give you my number?” he asked her, not wanting to seem pushy in asking for hers.

“Sure.” She brought out her phone. “Go ahead.”

He told her his phone number, and she tapped at the screen of her phone, adding his information. A moment later his own phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a new text: Hi, it’s Jennifer. Call me.

He smiled, added the number with her name to his contact list, and then touched the button to call. Her phone rang in her hand. She answered it, smiling across the table at him. “Hello! I’m glad you called. What’s up?”

He lifted his own phone to his ear. “Have you seen Hard Wired yet?” That was the title of the latest SF blockbuster movie; it had been in theaters for almost a month now.

“Not yet, no.”

“I haven’t either, but I’m planning to see it this weekend. Would you care to join me?”

“Love to. Saturday afternoon?”

“Perfect,” he agreed.

She ended the call and chuckled. “You’re silly.”

“Hey,” he protested, “You said to call, and I just figured ‘why wait?'” He turned to his phone again and looked up the show times at the local cineplex. “Four-fifteen showing okay? Meet you there at a quarter to?”

She smiled again. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

Weeks passed. After Hard Wired they saw a couple more movies together, getting dinner together afterward each time, and going separate ways once out of the restaurant. The last time they had gone to a chain steakhouse. “I can make a better steak at home in my air fryer,” he’d commented.

“Oh, stop beating your chest before you crack a rib,” she teased.

“No, seriously. This isn’t bad, but I really can do a lot better. You should come try me.”

“I’m free for dinner tomorrow.”

“Okay, what’s your preferred green vegetable? Asparagus, broccoli, kale, or Brussels sprouts?”

* * *

“Hey, Jennifer, glad you made it.” She stood at his front door in a black knee-length skirt, short boots, and a red tee shirt that read “Fat Bitch” in fancy white script. He grinned as he took it in. “That’s quite a shirt.”

“It’s just truth in labeling,” she said. “I’m telling the world, ‘This is me – love me or go to hell.'”

He welcomed her in with a hug and led her to the sofa in the living room. “Get you a drink?”

“What are you having?”

“There’s a pinot noir for a dinner wine. I was going to have bourbon neat for now.”

“Sounds good. I’ll have the same.”

He started the food cooking in a trio of air fryers, then poured their drinks and sat with her. They made light conversation as they drank and the food cooked.

When it was ready he poured two glasses of wine; then he plated the ribeyes, roasted asparagus, and baby red potatoes, and served them at his “dining room” table just off the kitchen area of his apartment.

“You’re right,” she said after they’d finished eating. “That was a much better steak than the ones at Frank’s Turf. In fact the whole dinner was better than anything they serve. I think I’m going to have to buy an air fryer.”

“You’ll love it,” he told her. “There’s almost nothing you can’t cook in one.”

“Considering that you own three, you’ll understand if I consider your view a little biased.”

“Hey, dinner tonight would have taken three times longer to cook with just the one.”

“I’ll start with one and see how that goes. Speaking of dinner, I owe you one. You’ll have to try my chicken cordon bleu.”

“I’m salivating already,” he said as he poured them both more wine, nearly emptying the bottle. “Same time next week, your place?”

“Okay, we’re on,” she confirmed. “So what’s next?”

“I think we should watch something we know to be excellent. Kind of like a palate cleanser.” They were in agreement that the last movie they’d gone to had been a steaming turd, and the one before it, while not awful, had still not been good. “I don’t think either of us has mentioned Avatar: The Last Airbender yet. Have you seen it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Three times. It’s only the best animated series ever.”

“Well, I have it on Bluray, the complete series. Want to watch it again?”

She grinned. “Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

“Don’t change the subject,” he admonished her playfully. “The toilet training of exalted religious personalities isn’t relevant to what we’re taking about here.”

She laughed aloud. “Then yes, I’ll watch Avatar again with you.”

They watched the first six episodes before calling it a night. As they hugged goodbye, he promised to bring the discs to her place when he came to dinner next week.

* * *

To his surprise and delight, Jennifer had bought an air fryer sometime during the last week, and worked out how to cook her chicken cordon bleu in it. Moreover, her cooking was as good as his, possibly even better. Tender and juicy chicken breast had been wrapped around shaved ham and Swiss cheese, and dredged and breaded prior to air-frying. “My secret is that I brine the chicken a day in advance of cooking,” she told him. She had also used her new kitchen appliance to roast garlic Parmesan Brussels sprouts; they were crispy and delicious. The meal was rounded out with thick slices of sourdough French bread, toasted under the oven broiler and buttered. She served it with a rosé wine and they killed the bottle while watching seven more episodes of Avatar.

They agreed to make it a regular thing, each taking turns hosting
the other for dinner on weekends. Neither was a picky eater or had any food allergies, so the menu was anything goes.

More weeks passed and became months. MC Frontalot and Mega Ran came to their town and they went to the show together. They saw more movies together. A new Green Lantern television show premiered and they watched it together every week. They watched new episodes of Rick and Morty and Doctor Who together. They came to the end of The Last Airbender and continued into the sequel series The Legend of Korra.

* * *

It had been about four-and-a-half months since their first meeting at the library, and tonight they were at his place, still watching Korra. Dinner had been spicy carnitas with pico de gallo, tortillas, and black beans, served with an amber ale from a local brewery. After two episodes, he felt her hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face her. “Something on your mind?”

She leaned in and kissed him, almost tentatively, as if testing his reaction. Though surprised, he went all in, returning the kiss with enthusiasm. Her lips parted and their tongues danced about each other. The kiss went on for fifteen or twenty seconds. He liked kissing her; she was good at it.

When the kiss broke, he said “Wow. That was nice. What brought that on?”

“No talk. Just tell me, yes or no – do you want to fuck me?”

While he hadn’t considered her as a sex partner since the initial sizing up that occurred when he first met any woman, and while she was heavier than the type of woman he favored, he still found Jennifer quite attractive, and now she wanted him. Furthermore, she was his best friend and he cared deeply for her. “Yes, I would very much like to fuck you.”

She threw her arms around him and kissed him again, all traces of hesitancy gone. “No talk,” she had said, implying that this wasn’t a romantic coupling. Maybe it was just a one-time event. Whatever it was could be sorted out later. Right now, he wanted it and so did she.

“My tits,” she said. “Touch my tits, it gets me hot.” He cupped a breast in one hand and tried to roll it, but of course she was wearing a bra. He moved his hand down to grab the hem of her shirt, and paused, not sure if he was moving too fast.

“What are you waiting for? Strip me, please!” He complied, pulling the shirt up and over her head with both hands.

Her skin was beautiful, every inch of it. She didn’t have any prominent rolls of flab on her torso, just an excess of belly fat, and the beginnings of “bat wings” on her upper arms. Her breasts looked amazing in the bra, two huge gorgeous globes that could smother him if she had a mind to. He put both hands on them, caressing and squeezing them in the bra, stroking the bare skin where it didn’t cover them. He felt an erection growing in his jeans.

Her hand found his lap and felt him up, rubbing his cock over the cloth. “Yes, I want this, I need this,” she said, unbuttoning and unzipping him as more blood flowed into his tool. His pants came down and his cock tented his briefs. A moment later the briefs came off too, exposing nearly six-and-a-half inches of rigid, circumcised man-meat. “Very nice,” she said. “You’re the biggest I’ve ever had.” Her hand gripped and stroked it as he reached around her back to unhook the bra.

He pulled it away and her tits spilled out, their shape changing from globes to teardrops as gravity took them. Her nipples were large and pink, the aureoles not much darker than the surrounding flesh. “Lovely,” he breathed as he dove in to take one in his mouth. He was a tit man, and hers were very lovely indeed. She sighed with pleasure as he sucked her boob, and continued lightly tugging his penis.

He had both tits in his hands now, rolling them in wide circles as his mouth moved from one nipple to the other and back again. She was extremely responsive; her breasts seemed to be incredible erogenous zones. She moaned and whined as he continued playing with her, writhing on the couch beside him. Her breathing became shallow and her whines rose in pitch. Holy shit, is she coming? She gave a piercing cry and shuddered as her breathing stopped for a moment; then she drew in a sharp breath and let it out in an “Oooooooooh.”

She composed herself and smiled at him. As if reading his mind, she said “Yeah, I just came. My tits are that sensitive, and you’re that good.” She stood and quickly shed her jeans and panties, then kissed him again. “Take me to bed, now. I need this cock in me.”

As cool as it would be to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, he was not a strong man – he would be straining to lift even a skinny woman. Instead he stood, took her hand, and led the way.

“Do you have condoms?” Jennifer asked as they stood beside his bed. He nodded. “Get one.” He did. It was non-latex and unlubricated.

She dropped to her knees before him. He was still hard, but had started to go soft. She took him in her hand and stroked his shaft; her other hand cupped his balls as she stimulated him back to full erection. She took the condom from the packet and put it on him. Then she took him in her mouth, sucking hungrily as her hands continued to work him. He looked down upon her as she blew him, admiring her beautiful face taking his cock in. More than any other sexual act, he loved getting head, and she was very skilled at giving it.

After a couple of minutes she took her mouth and hands from his penis. She climbed onto his bed on her hands and knees, presenting him with her ass. Her buttocks were large and shapely. “Take me!” she pleaded. “Give me your cock, fuck me!”

He moved into place behind her and slid his cock into her pussy. “Yes! Fuck me!” she cried as he began to thrust. He clutched her ass cheeks in both hands, riding her as she slammed back to meet his every stroke. “Yes, keep doing that, I love your hands on my ass!” He kept driving his love muscle into her, savoring her wet, tight hole around him.

“Spank me! Smack my ass!” she demanded. It wasn’t the first time he had received such a request from a woman. His right hand slapped her buttock lightly. “Harder!” He slapped again, with more force. “Harder!” she insisted. Again, he did. “Yes, like that! More!” He slapped the other cheek with about the same force.

Jennifer cried out in ecstasy as he continued to fuck her, one hand or the other occasionally delivering another hard smack to her ass. Her cries escalated to a crescendo; she seemed to be coming again. “Oh, yes, yes, yes!” Again she shuddered against him. Then she pulled off from him and lay on her back.

He knelt between her legs and lowered himself onto her, sliding into her once again. “Yes, fuck me some more,” she said. “I want you to fuck me until you come.” His hips thrust his cock in and out, and he took her breasts in his hands.

“I want you to come again too,” he told her as he massaged her tits. “I want to make you feel really good.”

“Sweety, you already have. Let’s see if we can come together then. Hold on until I start to come. The way you’re working me, though….” She smiled. “It won’t be very long, so get ready.”

He was also close to coming, but he had to last until he could get her there too. Fortunately, he already knew her breasts were her hot button. The thought of fucking her between them was driving him wild, which did nothing to help his staying power. He picked up the pace and worked her tits with renewed fervor.

She started coming again, and he stopped holding back. “Oh, Jennifer, Jennifer!” A few more thrusts and he was coming too. He groaned as he spilled himself inside her, the condom catching it all. They both wound down from their orgasms, smiled at each other, and kissed again.

He woke early the next morning, himself on his back with one of Jennifer’s arms laying across his chest. It was cute and sweet, but he had to pee. He tried to sneak out from under her, but she ended up waking anyway.

“Good morning,” he said as he got out of bed. “Sorry, had to get up. Hey, have you made breakfast sandwiches in your air fryer yet? If not, I’ll show you how. Just let me go to the bathroom and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Or stay in bed longer, that’s okay too.” He realized he was rambling. “Anyway, um….” He gestured to the door, then walked out through it to the bathroom.

As he urinated he wondered what happened next. “No talk,” she’d said, but certainly that had only applied to the moment. It was all well and good to fuck your best friend, so long as all involved parties understood and agreed on the situation. There would need to be talk.

He washed his hands and emerged to find Jennifer sitting at the dining table just off the kitchen. She had recovered her clothes, dressed, and put her glasses on. He started making coffee before he recovered his own clothes and dressed as well. He took two mugs and filled them with hot coffee, then realized they had never been together this early. He asked her, “What do you take in coffee? Do you even drink coffee?”

“I drink coffee. Just black is fine.”

He gave her one of the mugs, seated himself across from her, and asked “Can we talk now?”

She nodded, looking serious. “Yes. You have questions, of course.”

“The first one has
to be: what are we to each other?”

“Friends.”

“Friends who fuck? Friends with benefits?”

“If you want to be. Look, I’ll make this as plain as I can: I really like you. Enough to share myself with you. But you have to understand that last night was just sex. It was just the two of us helping each other get off.

“Maybe last night was bad judgment on my part,” she continued. “I hope it wasn’t. I’m not looking for a relationship, and I really like having you as a friend. I would really miss you if one of us went away. Please don’t make this weird, and last night doesn’t have to be a one-time thing. You didn’t turn me down, so I know you’re not against the idea of friends helping each other out.”

“No, that was amazing,” he said. “You were amazing, and I appreciate that you chose me. If you want to go again sometime, I’m happy to be your playmate. If not, and we never play like that again, I’ll just say thank you for last night.”

“I have a high libido,” Jennifer told him as they lay in her bed. “I masturbate a lot, when I can’t get a real dick. Which is most of the time. I don’t go cruising to pick up strangers.”

“I do,” he confessed. “At least, I used to before we started hooking up. Not that I’m thinking we’re exclusive,” he hastened to point out, “it’s just that I’ve been getting enough with you. I still jerk off once or twice a week, but lately I haven’t even thought about wanting another woman. I haven’t been to Randy’s in over a month.” Randy’s was the local bar where he and his guy friends looked for temporary companionship, and it had been a month since Jennifer had initiated sex between them. “Used to be I would pick up a woman there every two or three weeks.”

“Wow, you man-whore, you,” she teased. “I trust you used protection with them.”

“Of course,” he confirmed. “Always. Condoms for blowjobs and fucking, rubber dams for going down on them.”

“How many women?”

“I never thought to count,” he said. “Sometimes I’d see a woman I’d been with before, and I’d approach her again. Never failed to get a repeat engagement – I think they were impressed that I remembered their names. Plus, I always try to give back as good as I get. Taking your own pleasure without a thought for your partner is just rude, don’t you think? I guess they remembered that I gave them a good time before, so they were willing to give me another throw. Three women from there have gone home with me more than once.”

“That’s how many men I’ve fucked,” she said. “Well, four now, if we’re including present company. He has to be a man I feel safe with, and like enough to want to fuck. That kind of man is rare in my life. It’s been a couple of years since the last time.”

“Well, I’m glad to be that man for you now.” He started to speak more but thought better of it.

“What?” she probed.

“Never mind,” he said. “We’re still in the Bone Zone, and what I had to say is more of a Friend Zone thing.”

“Go ahead, say it.”

“You’re my person.”

She laughed. “Like Cristina and Meredith? You watch Grey’s Anatomy too? That’s such a chick show.”

He shrugged. “I like Sandra Oh. I stopped watching when she left the show. But yeah, like Cristina and Meredith.” It meant that they were the best of friends, closer than family and more intimate than lovers – Jennifer was who he would call for help if he needed to dispose of a body, as Cristina had said of Meredith on the show. It meant Ride or Die. “That’s what our relationship is to me. When we’re not in the Bone Zone at least.”

“That’s sweet.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re my person, too. And not just because you fuck me when I need it.”

This was getting too Friend Zone for the present setting. He changed the subject: “Don’t answer if you’d rather not, but how did you learn to give head? You’re really amazing at it.”

She blushed as she smiled bashfully. “Several years ago I searched ‘sensual blowjob’ clips online and watched what those women did. I learned all my technique that way, and I practiced when I got the chance with the men I’ve been with. Seems guys really like having their dicks sucked.”

He feigned surprise. “You don’t say.”

* * *

More months passed as they continued in their comfortable rut. He met a handful of Jennifer’s girlfriends on her birthday, and she met some of his guy friends on his. Both groups of friends had thought they were dating, but they maintained that their friendship was “platonic” – they considered the “with benefits” situation their own private affair that their other friends didn’t need to know about. They weren’t having sex every time they got together, but more than half the time, they were.

One Friday he arrived at work and immediately saw that it was going to be a rough day. He resigned himself to getting through it, knowing that at least he would be seeing Jennifer that night. Then a text came in the middle of the morning: Work is fucked. Can’t meet tonight. Have to stay late. >_< It was the second week in a row that they hadn't spent time together; last week he'd been the one to cancel. OK better luck next time? he sent back. He still needed something to look forward to at the end of the day. He didn't feel like picking someone up at Randy's - which wasn't a certainty anyway. He decided it would be an epic masturbation night, looking at videos on PornHub and edging himself until he couldn't hold his orgasm back any longer. Anticipating that would keep him going through the next few hours. He would rather be with Jennifer, sex or no sex, but the situation was what it was. He got back to work.