Everything about this horny BBW babe is big. She’s got big natural titties, a big fat ass and a big hunger for plenty of big cock. Come on in and watch some hot BBW HD XXX as she gets fed enough cock to keep her hunger under control … for now.
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Romana may not be as fat as some of the BBW chicks that we have for you here but that doesn’t mean that she’s not one wild and horny fuck slut. Man she just blew us away with her hunger for hard cock and when you see her in action you’re gonna see a babe who is out of control and just doesn’t want the action to stop. She’s one hard and dirty fucker as you’re about to discover, all exclusive BBW HD porn of coarse.
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Fedora from PlumpAndTasty is one wild redhead BBW who loves to get her tight pussy stuffed full of hard cock. And with big tits like this BBW babe has got she never has trouble finding a guy who wants to fuck the shit out of her. Come on in and watch the BBW HD action as yet another guy fucks her till she’s moaning like a whore.
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Here’s some more proof that big BBW girls fuck harder. We knew from the color of her hair that Inga was always gonna be a wild fuck slut but man she really blew us away with her hunger for the cock we had waiting for her. She wanted it and she didn’t care what she had to do to get it just so long as it fucked the shit out of her.
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This is one big BBW babe who has an even bigger hunger for hard cock than most sluts we show you. Not only does this BBW babe love to get fucked till she’s a screaming mess but it’s not over till her face is covered in all the hot sticky cum that she can get. Come on in and watch some BBW HD porn as Rochelle gets her craving to be fucked and facialed satisfied.
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There’s no doubt that if you want some of the wildest fucking BBW HD porn you can ever find then just look for a plump bitch who wants some cock. That’s what we did when we found Amelita and we sure did get one horny slut who is just insatiable. Watch the action as she gets reamed and creamed like a cheap fuck toy and you’ll see how nasty big BBW girl fucking can really get.
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Here at Plump and Tasty we like to bring you some hot big BBW babes but here’s a babe who takes ‘big’ to a whole new level. She’s got huge tits and a big ass and hunger for big things in her pussy that will blow you away. She also likes to get big loads of hot sticky cum at the end of some hard BBW fucking.
Read MoreCheyenne moved her beautiful body so seductively on the stage at the BBW club Oasis, her long blonde hair hung loosely to her waist as she began removing her top as the men were cheering and whistling at her. Cheyenne allowed the white sheer top drop to the floor exposing her large breast being held up in the gold push up bra, she slowly moved her hips in a sensual grind as she removed the bra and tossed it into the crowd of men who loved the BBW. Her fingers clasped the gold thong that matched her bra as she teasingly, slowly slid it down over her full hips and thighs. She sweetly smiled at the crowd of men and then turning her plump ass towards them bent over to remove the thong from her five feet four inch body that weighed in at two hundred fifty pounds. Her large brown eyes sparkled with excitement as the men gazed upon her full luscious ass. She use to have a complex about being heavy and would never even change her clothes in front of anyone until her friend Cee-Cee introduced her to the BBW Club Oasis.
Cheyenne had her fans who sat at their tables near the stage watching her strut her stuff across the stage. One fan never missed a night and that was Roger, a tall, thin man with dark brown hair and brown eyes, who had fallen in love with Cheyenne the first night he saw her dance. She looked directly into his eyes and she slowly removed her clothes as if she was making love to him up on the stage through her eyes. He never felt such a burning desire deep with in his loins and had decided that night that one day she would become his woman.
Cheyenne knew Roger liked her and his jealousy over the other men she paid attention to really made him angry. He went so far as to threaten to arrest one man for public indecency.
Tonight Cheyenne was feeling extra naughty and decided that she was going to take Roger home for a night of hot naughty sex. She straddled his lap standing with her breast in his face rubbing her body on him taking his hands and guiding them on her body where she wanted them starting softly on her shoulders to just above her breast and down her sides looking so intently into his eyes, slowly running her tongue over her glistening lips. He could see the goose bumps he was causing to break out on her flesh and her nipples were now so large and hard that his mouth watered to suck on them.
Roger was almost scared for this is the first time she ever responded to him in the year he had been coming to watch her faithfully. She was really giving him her full attention.
Cheyenne was excited knowing she was going to take him home with her tonight. She could actually feel her juices starting to make her thong wet from the desire that was burning her very being.
Angela watched her room mate while she stood behind the bar serving drinks to the men who hadn’t any interest in this woman who practically starved herself to stay thin as society deemed acceptable, but here in this world of the BBW she was the one men looked down upon her as they lusted after these large bodied women that in society are made fun. She actually felt ashamed being thin while she worked here. She was watching this one man who made Fabio look like last nights left over, but he only had eyes for Cee-Cee who weighed three hundred pounds. The club was packed tonight and this really made Angela even more tense with all of these handsome men around her and not one was looking at her. She walked over to the one with Cee-Cee smiling up at him she leaned over the bar whispering in his ear.
“Hey baby when you want to feel some firm tight thighs look me up.” she told him lightly touching his chin with her finger tips.
He smiled at Angela. “ I don’t think so, your not what I like in a woman, maybe a few more pounds on you might help. He told her nicely and then added. “ You do have a pretty face though.”
Angela was steaming for that is what she heard her friends telling Cheyenne and never knew just how insulting it actually was.
Cheyenne was glad when she was finally able to take Roger home with her. In her bedroom carefully decorated with dim lighting and black satin sheets with matching pillow cases and comforter she helped him to be more comfortable and removed his clothing then fluffed the pillows behind his back. Cheyenne smiled turning on her stereo with mood setting music and began to dance seductively for him removing her clothes as she watched his hand caressing his erection and she slid her body on the bed between his thighs and began to suck softly on his testicles watching his ever so hard erection begin to throb and she removed his hand replacing it with her mouth. Cheyenne licked his massive erection like a lolly pop, slowly, up and down the shaft, to the head where she rolled the head of his erection slowly in her mouth feeling him wanting to explode deep down her throat.
She eased her body up over him placing his hard erection between her large breast letting him grind his hips hard into her breast, slowly she moved up his body taking his hard aching erection into her hot juices and moved her hips slowly on him feeling his mouth hungrily feeding on her breast that she began to move her hips faster and harder with him until they both screamed out in complete ecstasy. Her juices flowed over his now quivering erection as their mouths met for such a steamy hot passionate kiss. Roger became instantly hard again and went under the covers and began to lick her neatly shaved patch. Her eyes almost rolled into the back of her head feeling his warm tongue slowly licking her sweet juices as he pleasured her orally. He felt her hips wanting to grind against his face and his hand found his hard throbbing erection wishing he could explode his hot juices deep into her. He was really enjoying the taste of her ,he kept sucking her hard swollen clit until he heard her moan and now he was really stroking his hard swollen throbbing erection as his hot juices exploded over those thick thighs of hers. Unaware to the two new lovers was Angela in the next room listening to them having hot, naughty sex with her toy to pleasure herself.
Read MoreTrent and Chuck were best friends since grade school. They were always looking for beautiful girls at College State and since they were both very muscular and well-hung and independently wealthy they had no problem in that department. But Chuck had never met Trent’s mom before so when I first saw Mrs. Smithson I couldn’t believe my eyes! Though she was older and kind of big assed she was totally hot, with enormous tits easy to see through her sheer braless blouse unbuttoned down to her navel. “Hey Trent is it okay if I fuck your totally hot mom,” I, Chuck, said, and Trent said “Hey bro why not I do it all the time–
* * *
Huysmans, the great Schmertzylvanian author of BBW erotica, set the story down and massaged his forehead in actual pain. As the world’s most famous author of BBW erotica, a cult figure beloved throughout America (and into parts of Canada), he often received other authors’ stories by email. Remembering his years of struggle and hardship, he was unfailingly courteous to these aspiring writers, but sometimes it was difficult…
* * *
Dear Rod Throbbin,
Huysmans thanks you from the bottom of his Schmertzylvanian heart for your generous offer to let him read and edit your true story, “Totally Hot Milf-Dicking With My Friend’s Big-Assed Hot Mom.” With regret Huysmans expresses the opinion that you should perhaps take another stab at writing hot BBW erotica before submitting stories to the world, which can be very cruel to beginning writer as Huysmans well remembers.
Huysmans believes in starting erotica story not with sex act desired but with characters drawn from real life. By sketching picture of such characters and the world in which they live, is more believable and sexy when sex enters the story. As famous Lord Chesterfield might have said if he had been teaching a night school writing class, are only so many sex acts, most of them ridiculous to outsiders; only by telling story of interesting, believable people finding their way to doing them can sex acts become dramatic and enthralling.
* * *
Huysmans thought of the inspirations that lay behind some of his stories. Sometimes it took no more than a face to conjure up an entire character– the flush-faced yet mysteriously exhilarated middle-aged woman walking past the garden store who inspired “Hawaiian Baby Woodrose”; the round girl at the hot dog stand, long since torn down, whose dark and mysterious eyes had led him to write “The Goddess Ramona.” Other times it was a place– the inn out west that had started him thinking about what the lives of the people who worked there would be like, and thus led to “A Maid in Montana,” or the bar in the tropics where things like “Big Beautiful Beach” happened all too easily, as Huysmans well knew from experience.
He saved the email on his laptop to send once the plane landed, and turned to the next story:
* * *
The next day it was most warm and as I sat in the courtyard of our binjhari I saw Auntie come up to me again. Her large breasts were most active inside her sheer kemara and it inspired lustful thoughts of which I was most ashamed, yet I desired heartily to place my dongabo inside her pichocha and frottage until the baby-juice erupted. “Oh Auntie, I am most tired, will you not lie next to me on my harari and aid me in my sleeping?” I asked. “Naughty boy, I think if I am to lie next to you there will be no sleeping but much agitation of the lower parts,” she replied–
* * *
Dear Sanjay21,
Huysmans thanks you with the hearty gratitude of his Schmertzylvanian horsemen ancestors for allowing him to read your story, “Temptation in the Binjhari of Auntie.” He understands your apprehension at sharing such a story with the world, but he does not feel that correcting your English (even if Huysmans were up to the task personally) is the answer. Though there are, to Huysmans’ eye, ways in which your story does not read like that of American writer, still, it is precisely the authenticity of your story in its setting which makes it memorably erotic. Huysmans urges you to write like yourself for you, and not worry about sounding like American writer.
* * *
The stewardess called for electronic devices to be put away, and Huysmans shut his MacBookPro down. What city was he going to? He could scarcely remember from one flight to the next. Since the movie adaptation of The Sapphic Pirate Miranda with Anne Hathaway and Dawn French had come out, his life had been a whirlwind of book tours, signings… and, of course, groupies. There was no shortage of BBW femaledom on hand at each signing, eager to experience firsthand the Schmertzylvanian lovemaking secrets of the world’s most famous (and, with his waxed mustaches and aroma of horse-leather and brandy, dashingly handsome) writer of BBW erotica.
Once this would have been too absurd a dream even for one of his first stories, pecked out by hand on his TRS-80 and uploaded to the earliest and crudest erotica BBSs. The kind of ridiculous fantasy that made sex stories on the internet hard to swallow, even when the sex was well described. But now it was commonplace– to walk into a Barnes & Noble and see hundreds of BBWs clutching his book, some young and sexually confident in their bellyshirts and piercings, others older and more reserved yet eager to explore the sexuality that his stories had unlocked, and to know that he could show a little favor to one or another and they would be his, tonight, in his hotel room.
It was a dream come true… and so Huysmans prepared for it, yet again, third time this week.
* * *
He had signed 50 already, but the line of large women– big bosoms, pear shaped behinds, rolling bellies like “A Girl at the Mall,” apple cheeks like Andie Thorsen in “Better Than Watching Leno”– still trailed around the corner and out of view.
Two young women appeared before him, obviously together. One was tall and sturdy, rolls of fat along her side, thighs straining the jeans they were encased within, a toothy smile and freckled complexion framed by an orange pageboy ‘do. The other was shorter and rounder, blonde and soft-skinned, blue eyes like… like… after so long on the road, the only simile that came to Huysmans’ mind was a hotel pool.
“Who shall I sign these to?” Huysmans asked.
“Make mine out to Trish,” the orange-haired giantess said.
Huysmans opened the jacket and wrote, “To Trish, whose fiery hair shall set my nights aflame with desire, Huysmans.” “And yours?” he said to the smaller blonde.
“I’m Muriel,” she said.
Huysmans scribbled, “For Muriel, whose name sounds like ‘la Mer’ and whose blue eyes will flood my memory whenever I gaze upon water.”
She looked at it and giggled nervously, as if she had something to say. But she couldn’t get it out and so Trish stepped in. “So… do you want a play date?”
Muriel said, “Let me talk to Trish first. Find out what day is good for her.”
He recognized the dialogue, of course– cribbed, a little confusedly, from “Play Date With Pam.” Often this was how they approached him, with his own words. He looked at them. Youthful, nervous but eager, a pair of mismatched but equally lush peaches– why not?
* * *
Pop! went the champagne bottle, waiting on the table in his hotel suite as the girls prepared themselves in the bathroom. He poured three glasses, and was about to do something else when they opened the door unexpectedly. He palmed the little blue pill and handed them their glasses, then raised his in a toast; as he sipped he slipped the pill into his mouth unnoticed.
Trish, as he might have guessed, was bolder in her lingerie, a slutty red teddy whose jagged neckline exposed much of the fetchingly freckled cleavage between her large dangling breasts. Muriel was more traditional in black and purple lace and satin, concealing rather than revealing the pepper-pot shape underneath, but most admirably dolled up with bright red lipstick and false eyelashes.
They wasted no time. The two of them grabbed Huysmans and started unbuttoning his shirt as Muriel stuck her beestung lips on his, and he felt her tongue probe hungrily inside. Hands roamed over his chest and pants as he felt Trish’s butt under the soft satin and stroked his hand over the top of Muriel’s large, heaving bosom. His belt was unbuckled and he was pushed backwards into the bedroom and onto a bed. Muriel was atop him first, her weight pressing him down as she rubbed her breasts still in their restraint across his face. Then Trish unsnapped them and they tumbled out, enormous and heavy, sweet-smelling and a little sticky where she’d sweated under the lingerie. He sucked one of the thumb-like nipples into his mouth and he felt someone cup his balls and stroke up and down. Trish took off her teddy and her breasts too fell free, swaying from side to side with every move she made. He took one of each in his hands and sucked from one to the other; then Muriel began moving down and took his cock in her hand, licking and kissing the head while Trish tongue-kissed him and he rubbed her soft, puffy belly.
As he licked and sucked her tits, he felt up her inner thighs into the warmth and steaminess deep inside her skirt. She backed up onto the bed and spread her legs. Now he couldn’t see her face or her breasts; she was just a pair of legs attached to a big round ass, and it was his, all his. He pulled down her panties to reveal curly red hair there, too, and she let her thighs relax a bit and open to show the bright purple slit, a slight hint of dampness making a line which slowly opened the petals of her pussy. He kissed his way up the big soft thighs until he reached her pussy, and then he began to lick, slowly and carefully, around the outside of her lips. She squirmed, ticklish, and so he grabbed her meaty thighs and spread them wider, then touched tongue to slit for the first time.
She squealed and shivered. “You liked that?” he whispered.
“I thought for a second you shot me with the electroprod again,” she said, quoting “Escape From Thinopolis,” and then her lower half seemed to call him back to his work. “Get on with it!”
He licked away, tongue rammed up as far as it could reach, and then he had an idea. She rolled over quickly and stuck her big round ass up in the air as he spread her legs again and started to lick her pussy from behind. Soon he was smashing his face between those fat round globes and moving his tongue. It didn’t take long of his tongue working its way as far as it would go into her asshole (which was less than half an inch) before he could tell that she had reached down and started masturbating as he did it.
As Trish got into herself he decided to help her out in another way. He slid a finger into her pussy and then started tickling her ass with the next one. That seemed to get a good moan in response, so he started to slide it in, wetting it some more as it went in. She moaned harder and so he began fucking her with his fingers, one in her pussy and one in her ass, and she bucked and rode his fingers as they slid in and out in unison and he could feel each one on the other side of the thin muscle wall in between.
By this point he had twisted to where his cock was out of Muriel’s reach, and so she pushed him over so that his ass was in the air.
Before he had time to be apprehensive– well, before he had time to act on it, anyway– she had spread him open and was licking up and down his crack, then jamming her tongue into his ass. Then he heard the cap on the lube open and a moment later he felt her finger slide into his ass, gently and caringly. She stood up but continued to slide her finger in and out, slowly and seductively, stroking his balls as they hung below and his hard dick swung back and forth. He heard some sort of movement, a clicking and rubbing sound, and then her finger came out, but he was too dazed to move.
Suddenly something was at his asshole again. He felt something press against it and then in an instant it had popped inside him. It slid all the way in, and then he felt her thighs pressing against his and he knew what it was. Muriel was fucking him with a strap-on dildo. He was powerless, he could only accept it, that he was being ass-fucked by a fat lady who acted like she owned him. Just like in his story “Tech Support.”
Trish scooted back to watch as Muriel pounded Huysmans’ ass, and once she was settled she pressed her foot against his cock, while playing with one of her tits. She squeezed the nipple, then licked at it and sucked it into her mouth. As her chunky thigh pistoned up and down, her foot working his cock, he moaned and saw glistening spurts of his seed fly up, catch moonlight, and fall down upon her foot and between her toes.
He collapsed, exhausted. Trish looked at him, and then she shook her foot, spattered with his cum, and whispered, “Don’t you think you better clean it up?”
Oh God, not “Temptress in the Temple.” “Get on your knees,” she said, “and clean my foot with your tongue.”
Huysmans was revolted– and yet the command of a big beautiful woman, to lick her foot, to suck on those toes, was irresistible. He bent down and touched his tongue to the cool cum and sucked it inside. It wasn’t horrible, he sucked it down and swallowed the first glob quickly enough; the second one he kept on his tongue and swirled around her big toe before swallowing it and licking it clean, bobbing his head up and down on the toe.
He rolled over, exhausted, as the girls, not yet satiated, now turned toward each other. Muriel pushed Trish’s legs apart to show her beautiful feminine flowers. She kissed her way up those fat jiggly thighs, cupped her broad round ass under her arms and squeezed her fat ass cheeks, kneading them so that her pussy and asshole each smooshed together with each squeeze.
Then, at last, she put her tongue out and ran it along Trish’s sweet orchid, her slippery purple labia, getting that first tongue-on-metal taste as her tongue skated across the top of it. Trish shivered and moaned “Oh God, yes.” Muriel dove in again, lifting the petals apart with her tongue, past the thicker skin of the outer lips and finding her way into the smoother, wetter velvet inside. Her nose burrowed into Trish’s pubic hair as her tongue went deep into that hot slippery hole and my hands kneaded that enormous ass like it was dough.
Trish started writhing, her massive tits bounding up and down on either side of her, that alabaster whale tummy shifting up and down, and Muriel picked up the pace on her rubbery clit. She pushed her legs up, revealing the wrinkly brown hole below her love tunnel, and as she rubbed her clit with her finger she let her tongue dive into that peppery pucker below. She practically screamed, biting the pillow she clutched in one hand as the other massaged one of those giant tits. Muriel switched back to chewing on her clit but rubbed her asshole with her index finger, and her ass practically sucked it inside. She kept up the rhythm, licking her clit as she pile-drove her asshole with her finger, and it was only a few more moments before Trish came, her ass pulsing around Muriel’s finger and her cunt throbbing in Muriel’s face.
* * *
After the girls had left Huysmans sat on the bed, his erection still not entirely gone thanks to the blue pill. He had been all Old World courtesy to the girls as they dressed and prepared to leave, but as he had bid them farewell he had felt saddened, that their dynamism and enthusiasm deserved something better than his jaded, ennui-ridden self. Here he was, at the pinnacle of his fame, able to have almost any BBW he desired with just a wink and a nod– and yet it had become boring, this endless round of sex acts which he could not help but think of in the terms of his stories. He no longer enjoyed the novelty of desire and conquest; now every act seemed to have been lifted straight from the pages of something he had already written and long since put behind him.
That night he made a resolution. There was a week before his next appearance; he had no obligations until then. He arose early the next morning, rented a convertible sports car at a nearby agency, tossed a small bag in the back and left the rest to be shipped home, and lit out of the city.
In 20 minutes he was in the suburbs. In another 10 he was in true farm country, far from urbanity and celebrity. It suddenly occurred to him that he had not eaten breakfast, and he wasn’t sure when an opportunity to do so would present itself– and then he saw an old white clapboard restaurant with a faded sign, Stop Inn Cafe. It might have closed forty years ago, by the look of it, but the trucks in the parking lot suggested otherwise. He swerved in and parked, pausing only to grab a hardback copy of “The Sapphic Pirate Miranda And Other Stories” from his bag.
He saw her the minute he opened the door. Dark eyed and dark haired, soft pink skin, cheeks like a pillow he could rest in for months. Broad hips, an hourglass waist (well, a couple of hours’ glass), big round breasts like a pair of bowling balls let loose to roll around under the plain pink cotton of her waitress’s uniform. He sat at the counter, and unobtrusively placed his book, cover side up, beside him.
A faint flicker of a smile at Huysmans’ exotic appearance, but the word that came out was all business. “Coffee?”
“Please.” He turned the book over, revealing the author photo on the back.
She poured his coffee. “Do you know what you want or do you need a few minutes?”
Oh, he knew what he wanted. It was intoxicating just seeing her lean against the counter, the edge swallowed up in the soft folds of her belly, her breasts jutting into her space, the softness of her chubby arms (no ring, he noted quickly), almost close enough to nuzzle as she held the ordering pad over him. Ever the author, he began to notice details that hinted at a life lived yet half-mysterious– the shoe-shaped scar on her forearm, a tattoo of a heart and a cartoon cat on her neckline, a photo of herself and some other girl taped to the cash register, labeled “Akron or Bust!!!” Then he noticed something else– impatience. “Two eggs, sunny side up, hash browns, wheat toast, please.”
“Comin’ right up,” she said, and disappeared.
She hadn’t noticed the book. Maybe she’d never even heard of the book, of “The Sapphic Pirate Miranda,” of him. A BBW who had no idea who the great author Huysmans was! The thought tantalized him. Seducing her, savoring those big round breasts, burying himself in those sturdy thighs, kissing that puffy neck and stroking those soft pink cheeks– it would take more than just pointing and beckoning. It would take getting to her know her, slowly, unthreateningly, it would take asking her out, not rushing things, not expecting anything. It would take getting to know her, understanding her world, being interested in her and making her interested in him, all before the sex acts which are interesting only when they come naturally from the characters of real human beings.
He put the book at his feet. His pulse was quickening. The chase was on. He felt alive again. When the time came, if it came, if he was so fortunate, he wouldn’t need any little blue pill.
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