Abundant Aunt Carmela
or The Relation between A Very Curvy BBW and Her Nephew
by bbwlove_it@yahoo.it

Part One

[This is a partially fictitious story.]

During summer, when I was a teenager, I used to go visit my aunt at her home. My parents would send me there every year: it seemed natural to do so since she lived close to the beach. It was like a free vacation. Usually, I would stay for the entire month of August with her alone, except for a week when my parents and my uncle would join us for a brief holiday. Every year, I couldn't wait for the summer to come. I had a few friends over my aunt's town, but that was not the real reason for me to go. In fact, I couldn't care less about them. They were just a bunch of stupid kids, only interested in beach-volley, gelatos, and stupid skinny scantily-clothed Baywatch-like girls. Instead, summer time for me was just an excuse to go visit my aunt and admire her beauty. My aunt is the most graceful woman I ever saw.

I was a skinny, tiny little teenager, and she was big, soft and cuddly. She was so tall that my head would arrive a little below her shoulder. I would say she was 6'5", at least. She was like a giant to me, and in fact, not only she was tall, but also she was big, fat, and fine all around. Her chest was very ample and welcoming, like a fluffy bed of feathers. Her tits were huge, two big watermelon-size bulges. Her hips were wide and vast, and I'd say very comfy for a man who wanted to bury himself in-between them: he would be embraced by the thickness and softness of her round legs. Her thighs were gracefully long and very large at the same time. And her arms were twice as thick than my thighs. I was completely fascinated by her luscious, excessively feminine body, and when she was around I couldn't stop to stare at her. I would think, "how big are those tits?" "she must be wearing the biggest bra ever made for sure!" or "I bet her hips are like 90 inches, and those thighs; look how much flesh she has down there; it's the softest and tightest place where I could possibly cum!"

I always loved to stare at her large, heavy, overfilled sacks of flesh that someone would call breasts. Yes, her tits were two watery bags of fat flesh, two giant Jell-O cakes: they were so abundant that I almost never watched porn, because just thinking about those mountains would make me come. She was really opulent. She was much more beautiful and bigger than any woman I could see on TV, or in porno movies; she was more gracious than any girlfriend I would meet, and more attractive than any super-model. I remember my friends talking about the size of Serena Grandi's boobs, or Pamela Anderson's, or Chloe Vevrier's, or even Russ Meyer's babes, but all those tits were so small compared to my aunt's. Generally speaking, I think all those actresses and models and stars were simply not fat enough to be really attractive.

The first time I stayed with my aunt, I was masturbating five or six times a day. My cock was aching so badly. But, I mean, what was I supposed to do? She would come down the stairs - which were kind of steep -, in the morning, while I was on the couch watching TV with my milk (if you were sitting on the couch you could see the TV and the stairs), and step after step, I would behold her immense tits, big as cantaloupes, bouncing and shaking like crazy inside her huge bra, literally overflowing it. I would contemplate all that flesh bouncing up and down, my mouth dangling open, and all I wanted was to put my head between those comfy pillows and stick my cock between her well-padded thighs. I wanted to feel her udders invading my mouth. Unfortunately, all I could do was masturbate.

When she was coming down the stairs, I could definitely see that her bra was not big enough. I mean, if was fitting alright, but that was simply not enough. In fact, she was always wearing an evening gown, in an effort to contain and protect the vastness of her tit flesh. Still, you could clearly see her gown crazily wobbling because of the continuous waves of flesh, pushing and rippling like a wild ocean out of her bra. Those gigantic udders were heavy, shoving to get out, and surround me and suffocate me. Well, that's what I was thinking, at least. Her bosom really looked like an ocean, always crossed by soft and impetuous waves in endless motion. It was full of water, full to the top. And it was so incredible to watch her big tits move and bounce inside (and out!) of that gown: they were bouncing, and bouncing, and bouncing over and over, step after step, because of their sheer size, and the gown was moved and pushed all around, like a thin veil. It was like the poor vest was desperately trying to contain an unreasonable weight, a beefy amassment of flesh, tantamount to a heap of heavy, ripe persimmons, I would say. You could totally feel that whatever was inside, was massive, copious, voluminous, and creamy.

When she was coming down the stairs, she was always slow and careful, in an effort to moderate the "bouncing effect" of her boobs. I could see her, trying to watch where she was going to put her foot, glancing over the curves of her voluptuous body. Not an easy job. Most of the times she was successful: she kind of had to twist her bust over the banister in order to move the breast away from her sight. While doing this, her tits would protrude over toward me. However, sometimes she would eventually put down her foot in a more abrupt way, and suddenly rest all her weight on one foot. As a consequence, the entire weight of her breasts would immediately pour all the way down, overflowing her bra, inundating her vest, bouncing back and forth, left and right, for so many magical seconds. I could see her tit flesh bouncing out of her gown, like a high tide. It was a tempest of lust, and I so wanted to be in eye of that storm, feeling the obese masses of her breasts slapping on my face. Her tits were so gracefully heavy and fat.

A couple of times she was in such a hurry (I guess she had something cooking on the stove or some other shit), that she rushed down the stairs so fast that her boobs couldn't tolerate it anymore. At first, they naturally bounced up and down, up and down, and up, up to her chin, and then down low, slapping for a couple more times. It was unreal, but she didn't stop and instead continued to run down the stairs, but after a few more heavy stomps her bra completely snapped open under the pressure of those giant udders: her right tit popped out and hit the banister with a big "slap!" before she quickly closed her gown. I remember this huge, fat teat erupting out uncontrollably, beautiful, full of delicious wrinkles (probably because of the immense growth of her breasts), and I wanted to lick and suck those wrinkles so bad, I wanted to adore them, I could almost feel their rich texture melting under my tongue. I wanted to feel those tits - that probably overgrew so many bras and clothing - completely covering my head. After flashing me, my beautiful aunt quickly covered herself, while laughing out a sort of embarrassed "Oh my god!" Moreover, she didn't care much about what happened and continued to run in front of me; I guess she really needed to reach the kitchen! With no bra, I could still hear her watermelon tits slapping on her stomach, while she was trying to tighten her gown.

Later, I also tried to explain to myself why all of that could happen, and why she ignored me like she didn't flash me at all, but didn't reach any certain conclusions. Probably she was in such a hurry that she didn't fix her bra properly before leaving her room, and she didn't care about anything else. Anyway, it was the first time I saw her naked breast, even if for just a second or so. Naturally enough, that same day I had problems sleeping: I kept waking up thinking about her. And, man, I jacked off so many times I don't even remember. It was the most amazing thing I ever saw in my entire life. Luckily enough, my aunt had so much more to offer.

[29 October 2004]