My friend Todd went out with a big girl. When I say big, I don't mean fat, I just mean big in the sense of BIG think Amazonian. She was tall, over six feet, with the body to match. Big muscular thighs and a matching overbearing torso, complete with an enormous chest. The breasts themselves weren't altogether too large on her frame, but compared to a shorter girl, the boobs were an order of magnitude larger. Actually, everything was larger than you would expect, with a plump yet attractive figure. Pairing her up with an attractive dwarf in a threesome would make for an interesting fetish fulfillment.
For his part, Todd wouldn't be dunking any time soon. He was only about 5'6'', though claimed 2 inches more. With his semi-toned frame weighing in at around a buck-fifty, he wasn't the perfect match for this girl. Perfection, however, was never Todd's goal.
He usually claimed that his small stature worked to his advantage. "Good eye contact," he would say. Seemed to me that in the battle of eye contact versus 'I won't date anyone shorter than me', Todd was bound to lose, but he didn't lack for confidence. Thus, the date with the behemoth.
He first made eye contact in a standard lounge setting. Dim lights and a soft couch set the atmosphere. He figured she was no more than 5'8'', well within his mojo parameters. She was sunk in pretty deep to the cushions, masking her true height and overall physique. Otherwise, even with the confidence of champions, I don't think Todd would have had the balls.
He perched on the end of the couch frame so as not to sink in. As an inveterate dater of taller women, Todd knew a thing or two about projecting tall. He worked out hard to stay thin, stood upright (never hunched), wore shores with very thick soles to give him an extra two inches, and always wore tight clothing that included vertically striped shirts, never horizontal. He also bought pants with a high crotch to avoid looking like he had stubby legs.
The conversation between the two that night was mundane, but, to his credit, the eye contact did its bit. Either that, or she was into the opposite fetish, looking for short men. Maybe she was tired of her culturally acceptable dating range, limited to basketball players and Dinka tribesmen. They agreed on a date.
A week later they went to a wine bar. The setting was not as kind to Todd. They sat on barstools that emphasized the height difference. Todd felt distinctly small as he peered up into her eyes. A spontaneous dance floor emerged, which Todd and his girl steadfastly ignored, concentrating instead on sucking down bottle after bottle to diminish nervousness.
Conversation didn't flow, but eventually the wine took hold. He walked her home, not expecting anything. He was surprised that she invited him in, perhaps out of pity, or perhaps he had underestimated himself. They had one more glass of wine on the couch before he made his move.
A bit uncoordinated in his platform shoes, Todd stumbled over her legs that were slightly extended in his direction, pulling himself up on the back of the couch to reach her height. She intentionally slouched and they awkwardly kissed, with her still holding the wine glass while he supported his weight on her shoulder, with butt slightly elevated off the couch. She put down the wine glass and they clumsily fumbled at each other. Clothes came off a piece at a time as Todd tentatively unbuttoned her big blouse, big bra and big skirt, until she was naked except for large (but still sexy) silk black panties. While she was momentarily on top, he tried to reach down to palm her ass, but he couldn't stretch that far. Instead he weakly patted the upper part of her butt cheeks and sporadically embraced her hips as best he could when his arms fatigued.
Todd's trademark move was to sweep a girl off her feet and carry her to the bedroom. He stood up at one point and attempted to cradle her before realizing the futility of his actions. Instead he gave her a bro shake and pulled her off the couch, like when you pull a football player up off the turf.
The semi-nude stroll to the bedroom only increased his nervousness. He had removed the special date shoes. Now they were both barefoot, and nakedness bolstered his shyness. His palm started sweating in hers.
They performed some perfunctory rolls back and forth on the bed. She swung her leg over him. This is usually the time where size differences can even themselves out. A girl can manipulate her height to warmly envelope you in her embrace, bringing the face and genitals for both parties to more or less an even level. But all Todd felt was her body mass, a giant slab of meat crushing him. He couldn't even find a proper butt/thigh hold, despite running his hands up and down her legs looking for a stable grip.
She straddled him and sat up at full height with her hands on his chest. This was supposed to be the crowning achievement, being ridden by a glorious Amazon as she screamed out in ecstasy and bruised his crotch with mad passion. Instead all he could feel was her crushing weight, and two gargantuan hands making his pecs feel tiny indeed.
He flipped her over, or rather, she allowed herself to be flipped over on her back. They had clearly lost momentum, but it was too awkward for either to retreat. Todd reached over for a condom out of his pants. In a clear manifestation of how poorly the night was going, his penis had fallen to a semi-limp shadow of its glorious self. Even erect, Todd was not large. He liked to say that his rod was proportional to his body, small, firm and fierce. He had to stroke himself off several times with eyes closed to stay hard as he applied the condom, which either means she isn't doing it for you or you have erectile dysfunction. Or both.
Todd mumbled defensively that he drank too much, turned away from the bed and continued to whack off to arousal. Protected and mostly hard, he plunged into her between two bulky knees. She maneuvered her hips up in the air as he lie down on her torso in a feeble attempt to kiss. The distance remained elusive, so he chose to slobber on her breasts for a while before propping himself on two straight arms over her tits and stomach.
The pressure of the night coupled with the uncomfortable outstretched arms caught up with Todd's glands. Sweat clouded his pores. He furiously wiped his forehead with one hand and then the other. The amount of sweat grew to saturation; way too much for him to mop up with his hairy arms. While swaddled in her massive embrace, droplets of sweat careened off his face. The droplets turned to gobs, splattering her chest. Rivulets ran down the middle of her stomach, creating a pool in her belly-button before spilling off the sides of her stomach onto the sheets.
Ejaculating in this position was a non-starter for Todd. (An orgasm for her was similarly out of the question, in any position, for that matter). He slid off down the stomach, slip-and-slide style, and made it apparent that she was to turn over, using an awkward circular flip of the wrist. She complied, Todd took a deep breath, and prayed the mojo would be revived with a rear approach.
The view was overwhelming. Ass to the right of him. Ass to the left of him. Butt crack looked like a giant door. He approached the event horizon with a strange sort of anticipation, but with ass at chest level, the logistics weren't going to be easy.
The results were unfortunately the same. She had to spread her knees further out than was comfortable and he had to squat uncomfortably over her with bent knees to fit the two together. He poked and strained, holding on to folds of cheeks like reins. She peered back over her shoulder. Usually this was a turn on for Todd, who liked to see the girl's face scrunched up in pleasure. But her face displayed no emotion. Blank. If anything, she was like a cow patiently waiting to be artificially inseminated. The sweat returned, as Todd's humbled tiny self relentlessly pounded on her big ass. His back and legs cramped up. Flecks of sweat began dotting her lower back and meandered toward her butt crack. He humped and humped, and humped and humped and humped, to no avail. With head throbbing from the beginnings of a hangover, Todd closed his eyes to hasten the conclusion. Eventually he came.
He stuck it out for a few minutes before making a lame excuse to depart. She likewise made a less than earnest plea for him to stay, but both knew it was for the best. While she sat up on the edge of the bed, Todd collected his clothes from the floor, put them on, turned to her and kissed her goodbye. The only kiss all night where they were at eye level.
I eagerly asked him about the date the following day. His normal gabby self was extremely reticent. I had to drag it out of him.
"Terrible, just terrible," he intoned. "That was the worst lay I've ever had."
"Maybe you just had a bad night," I sympathized, "you should try again. Think of the things you could do with those big parts."
"No way, dude. You don't understand. You have no idea how insignificant I felt."
"C'mon, you're exaggerating."
"No, I'm not. You have no idea. Like a monkey fucking a horse. It's over."
And he wouldn't speak of it again. The End.
To see more misadventures in the bedroom, please visit: The Finger Blog.