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Finding God

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Reverent Mervin had strong beliefs. Ultra-conservative, fundamentalist, all of life’s instructions could be found literally in the Bible, etc.

Really he was an insufferable man, arrogant, proud, judgmental, intolerant, pushy, unhappy. Angry and boring. He was 57 years old, 240 pounds, with a fat hairy belly and a sweaty flaccid body, balding, with a pasty complexion.

He was rigidly puritanical. A dull, tedious life, loveless marriage to a woman whose decades-long tolerance of him had made her far grayer and duller than her years.

As he pulled out of his Bible-thumping conference meeting in this strange new city, he noticed someone at the side of the road. It was a young woman, maybe 19 years old, very short, very skinny, but with long golden blonde hair down to her knees. She was facing the other way, and was wearing a curious backpack that was the shape of a cross, lit up with reflective material so it glistened silver in the car’s headlights.

She turned to look at his car as he approached, and he could see that she had an angelic, pristine face, no make-up except almost obscenely garish, very red lipstick. Her breasts were huge, massively out of proportion to her otherwise petite, waifish frame.

Something came over him. Ordinarily he would curse such a person, and speed off with an air of superiority, perhaps even calling the police to complain about hitchhikers on the highway. But this time, he was strangely compelled to slow down and stop the car. She walked over to the open window on the passenger’s side, and leaned into the car.

“Would you take me home, sir?” she asked in a soft, sweet, melodious purr.

He unlocked the door, wordlessly, and she climbed into the türbanlı escort car.

Strangely, they had no conversation. And strangely, he knew what she was doing out on the street at this hour. He took her home.

Not to her home, of course, but to his hotel room.

Once inside, Mervin awkwardly went to the bathroom, leaving her standing alone in the main part of the suite. He seemed in a daze, and was trembling a bit. As he looked in the mirror he was conscious of how fat and repulsive he must seem to almost any woman, especially a young beauty. It was unusual for him to have a moment of self-reflection.

When he left the bathroom, he found the girl naked on the bed, lying on her back, with her legs spread. Her long golden hair spread across the whole width of the king-size mattress. She had left the lights on brightly.

“Fuck me now” she said, looking straight into his eyes, licking her lips. She moved her limbs and torso in an undulating, slow ballet. Her delicate feet arched, tensing up her skinny calves, then her toes massaged the sheets of the bed, as though she had a deep part of herself that she wanted scratched, but couldn’t quite reach it. Her fingers rubbed her breasts and squeezed her nipples, pulling them until they were erect and almost sorely reddened from her pinches. Her biceps actually contracted visibly as she lifted the mass of her breasts, showing both the enormity of her breasts, but also the skinniness yet athleticism of her arms.

He fumbled with his belt, and pulled off his pants and shirt. It was quite a scene, the fat hairy 57 year-old facing the young skinny 19 year-old. She had a flawless, perfect body, exposed completely to ümraniye escort the sight of this truly ugly man. And she was actually inviting him to fuck her…

When he was naked too, his fat cock stood erect, though he had a hard time seeing it due to his rolls of belly fat.

He climbed on top of her, until his whole weight rested on hers, her tiny frame crushed under his. He wasted no time fumbling with his cock, and pushed it hard into her vagina. To his surprise it was lubricated already, with her own natural fluids, and she gasped when he entered her. She reached around to hug him and fondle his hairy, flabby back as he pushed and bucked into her. Her legs and feet entwined themselves around his, and she was so flexible that she could pull her feet back and massage his big, flabby ass with her toes.

He moved to kiss her, and his big tongue slobbered into her mouth. To his surprise, she kissed back as passionately as he had ever been kissed. She seemed to like sucking the slobber out of his mouth and swallowing it with a smile.

She had a special place in her heart for fat, flabby, middle-aged men, knowing that she could give them something that they would never have in nature except through a miracle.

She knew he wouldn’t last long, and gave his cock a tight, sensual massage with her cunt. She had a special gift of being able to control her vaginal muscles, and she tightened her grip like a vice, before releasing, rippling her cunt gently, throbbing a bit, then gripping down tightly again, in synchrony with her moans of genuine pleasure. She also had a gift of bringing herself to orgasm easily, and she let this happen again, her body flushing red as the acıbadem escort waves of her orgasm washed over her.

She had a hard time breathing with this fat brute humping rudely on top of her, thrusting his massive bulk like a whale up and down on her little body. If she didn’t have such large breasts for a cushion, she might have broken a rib or two. But it was an exhilerating feeling for her. She liked to be fucked hard by fat hairy men.

“Cum inside of me” she moaned. “Get me pregnant. Cum in me. Cum in me. Cum in me.” It became a chant, a beg.

With that he lost control and fired a massive load of cum deep into her vagina. It was the best orgasm he’d had in 40 years. Afterwards he fell asleep on top of her, his cock still deep in her cunt. She loved the feeling of his weight obsenely crushing her. She came numerous times with his huge sleeping body pinning her down, and her cunt actually awoke his cock twice more, and brought him to 2 more thunderous orgasms, all with him in a semi-conscious ecstatic delirium.

When he awoke, he expected maybe to have his wallet missing, or worse…

But when he awoke, it was morning, the dawn’s rays beaming into his suite. His wallet was still on the countertop, untouched. A little note and a red rose were next to him on the bed.

It simply said “Thank you. Love, Angel.” He might’ve thought it was all a dream, except for the fact that there were strands of her long, golden hair on the bed, and a wet pool of cum on the sheets. There was a pleasant fragrance of an intoxicating perfume that still lingered on his skin, and he resisted the urge to shower for quite some time, savouring her scent on him.

He was a changed man. No more fundamentalist preaching. He actually started doing things to help people. He took steps to better himself, and to treat his wife well; while they both openly took lovers, they also developed an enjoyable sexual rapport by themselves. He lost weight, and got in shape. But he could never find Angel again…

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