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From: "Joris Huysmans" <joriskhuysmans@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} PLAY DATE WITH JULIE by Joris K. Huysmans
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Date: Fri, 15 Sep 2006 16:10:01 -0400
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Here's this week's BBW story, always glad to hear from those who enjoy them 
at joriskhuysmans thingy hotmail thingy com.


PLAY DATE WITH JULIE

by Joris K. Huysmans


One thing I never thought about while I was selling my company-- typical 
technology startup, we made WAPs that statically randomized BIPs for IIPs-- 
was, what the hell was I going to do all day once it was sold?

I worked out in the morning, and I found a favorite little coffee place 
where I could shoot the shit with perky little blonde chicks with nose 
rings.  But I didn't want to hang out there more than an hour or so, turn 
into the old guy (all of 42) who keeps bothering the perky blonde chicks.

So then I found a park in the neighborhood which I'd never paid much 
attention to because it seemed to mainly be for kids.  Now, though, it was 
kind of pleasant to kill an hour or so before lunch, listening to my iPod 
and watching the little buggers running around, laughing and yelling and 
burning off enough energy to power a skyscraper.  (Note: idea for new 
startup-- harness kid energy)

It wasn't long before I realized that there were a lot of other people 
coming there every day, too-- by which I mean moms, with a few Caribbean 
nannies thrown in.  Pretty soon I was nodding to a few of them as I arrived 
each day, and sometimes turning off my iPod and eavesdropping on their 
conversations.

The moms were all pretty much in the same place in life.  They'd dropped out 
of their jobs to raise their kids, and they weren't exactly sorry they'd 
done it.  But at the same time, their lives had gone from managing global 
marketing to managing full diapers and the equitable distribution of 
Cheetos, and they were often bored and desperate to have a conversation 
about something other than sparkly rainbow elves or who hit who.

I was just contemplating all this when one of the moms, standing a few feet 
away, turned to me and said "Isn't it amazing, how at this age they can just 
walk up to anybody and make friends?"

I pulled my earbuds out and saw who she was talking about-- a couple of 
two-year-olds who had just met and were now deeply engrossed in a game of 
making pizzas.  "Yeah, it'd be great if they can keep that skill growing 
up," I said, somewhat inanely, but then I'd been caught a little off guard.

"I'm Julie," the woman said, offering her hand.  She was typical of the moms 
here, the manner of a formerly buttoned-up business person but now she was 
dressed in a spaghetti strap top and gray sweats which neither showed off 
nor hid her broad, dumpy butt and the large mammaries smashed down in a jog 
bra.  As I looked at her, though, I kind of thought the extra pounds 
softened her face-- once it might have been kind of harsh and angular, 
framed by blonde hair as straight as a ruler, but now, rounded out, she had 
a nice smile and even a dimple or two.  A Mom face.

"Steve," I said, taking her hand.  "Nice to meet you."

"Which one's yours?" she asked.

Aha.  She might be striking up a pleasant conversation but there was also a 
little Mom recon in action, making sure the guy hanging out in the park 
wasn't a threat.  Well, I didn't build a company without knowing how to 
bullshit past a gotcha question.

"The little guy-- over there-- in the Gap Kids outfit-- the one who's 
playing with the other kid--" I said.

She seemed to pick out one who she thought I meant from that description, 
and nodded.  "He's cute," she said.

"Thanks.  Yeah, he's my little tiger."  We chatted about kids, and a little 
about our past work lives, and this and that-- you know, the stuff Moms talk 
about at the park.  Eventually she and her kids had to go, so I said 
goodbye, and walked over toward the jungle gym as if I were going over to my 
kid, making sure she and hers were gone before I got there and had to pick 
one.

*  *  *

Julie and I chatted a couple of times over the next week or so, and I often 
got drawn into the broader conversations between several of the moms as 
well.  As they talked about kids, and shopping, and their busy husbands, I 
began to pick up on a certain amount of personal frustration with their home 
life as well.  I mean, with their life in the bedroom.

That got me thinking, in an idle sort of way.  I'd usually dated younger 
gals, smart up-and-comers in my company who had, shall we say, No Problem 
with sleeping with the boss-- but now that avenue was cut off to me.  And 
frankly, being of a certain age myself, well, I'm not saying that a pretty 
young thing with the legs of a giraffe didn't turn my head and stir my loins 
when she went by, especially in this day where they liked to show off half 
their pelvis, but I've always been ecumenical in my tastes, and hey, even if 
these moms had gotten a little chunky, well, some of them looked damn fine 
to me.  I had nothing against big floppy post-baby tits, or a squishy round 
ass big enough to knead bread on.

I started finding ways to turn the conversation toward sex without bringing 
up sex as such.  When Julie said something about not having any time with 
her husband as a couple any more, I jumped in.  "I know, that's so 
important," I said.  "You have to find that time together.  I think that's 
maybe one of the reasons why we..." I trailed off, not wanting to invent too 
many details about my fictitious tiger's equally fictitious mom, from whom I 
was fictitiously divorced, apparently.  But I bit my lip to show sadness and 
guilt.  "Maybe you should get a babysitter and then go get a hotel room, so 
you're completely out of the house and the two of you..."

"Yeah, well, I don't know how much interest there is," she said ruefully.

"Really?  My, er, hmm-hrm's libido really went up after he was born," I 
said.  "I mean, sure, we were too tired a lot of the time, but she--"

"I'm interested," she said.  "Sometimes I'm REALLY interested.  But he..."

"Oh," I said.  There was silence for a minute.

"Maybe if I can get rid of a few pounds--"

"Why?" I said sharply.

"Why?" She seemed surprised that the question even needed to be asked.

"Yeah, why?  You look great.  If you don't mind my saying so."

"No, I don't mind a bit," she said.  "But you don't think..."

"Hell no," I said.  "You look like who you are.  There's no reason to try to 
shrink down to who you were in high school.  You're the woman you ought to 
be.  Don't think guys don't notice you and admire you, either.  And if your 
husband can't see that and love it, he's a damned fool who's forgotten how 
he used to look at the moms when he was in high school."

"Really," she said, thoughtfully.  And then she switched the conversation to 
storytime sessions at the local bookstore.

We talked about that kind of stuff for a few more minutes, and then she said 
she had to go.  But before she did she paused, and I looked up at her, and 
she hesitated, and then she finally said:

"Maybe we could have a play date sometime-- our kids, I mean..."

*  *  *

I called up my former office manager, now a mom herself.  We stayed in 
contact regularly because she got me weed.  "Brenda, I need a kid."

"Well, first you got to find a nice girl, and then you got to get down with 
her--"

"No, I need to borrow yours for an afternoon.  Wouldn't you like a break 
some afternoon?"

"Hell, take him for the week if you want.  He's about to drive me-- Terrell, 
put the cordless drill down.  No, it does not tickle the cat, it stops him 
from living.  Don't make me come over there!  Yeah, sure, no problem.  You 
can have him as long as you want."

*  *  *

We rang the doorbell.  Julie opened the door, with her daughter Courtney at 
her side, and then she looked down and her face clouded over.  Of course, 
one thing I hadn't thought about until I picked Terrell up was the fact that 
he was black.  Pretty light, his dad's Latino, but still, black.

"This is Terrell," I said to Courtney, and pushed him toward her.  They 
immediately disappeared into the house to play.

"Funny, I remembered him being... Caucasian," she said, confused.

"I think it's wrong to impose rigid racial roles on children this early," I 
said.  "Let them explore the different possibilities at their own speed, 
don't you agree?"

"Uh, sure," Julie said as she led me into the kitchen.  She'd dolled up a 
little for our play date, without making it too obvious-- a thin blouse 
which revealed a little cleavage (and her big mom-tits were quite 
attractive), those short straight-legged pants that end around the ankles 
and hug the butt, and sandals with a slight heel to them.  The effect was 
sexier while preserving deniability.

She picked up a glass of wine.  "Would you like some chardonnay?" she asked. 
  I must have looked disapproving or something, because she blushed a little 
and hurriedly said, "I never drink in the day, but it seemed like it might 
be nice to--"

I took a glass and offered it in a toast.  "To making friends easily, and 
becoming better ones," I said, and we clinked glasses.

I took a small sip; she took a large one.  "Well, the kids seem to be 
getting along," she said.

"It's beautiful," I said.  "If only we adults could fall into... friendship 
that easily."

She set her glass down and fanned herself.  "I must not have had much to eat 
for breakfast, it's really going to my head."  She sort of stumbled in her 
shoes and wound up much closer to me, brushing her arm against mine.  So 
that was how she wanted to play it-- accidental touching getting more and 
more frequent.  I looked down at her-- and then grabbed her around the waist 
and kissed her.

Her tongue darted hungrily inside my mouth as her arms went around my back.  
She reached under my shirt and began feeling my back and chest, so I did the 
same thing, lifting her blouse over her head and revealing her plump, 
Goodyear-blimp boobs inside a thin white bra, fat nipples pushing against 
the fabric, wanting to be let free and get some attention.  She reached 
behind and unsnapped the bra and they cascaded loose, an avalanche of chubby 
mom-boob bouncing down the slope of her stomach.

She led me to the couch and she sat down on it but I knelt before her and 
took those glorious fat breasts in my hands.  As I sucked on the nipple of 
one she moaned, kicking off her shoes and making me admire the toes at the 
end of her puffy little feet.  I rubbed my face between her breasts before 
licking the other nipple, and as I did she started to wriggle out of her 
pants, thin purple thong underwear stretched over her broad hips.

I nuzzled my way down her stomach and down to where wisps of hair stuck out 
from the front of her thong.  I put my arms under her ass and luxuriated, 
for the moment, in the feel of her big, wide, soft mom-ass, that expanse of 
smooth curvy skin, the weight of her.  I tugged her down the couch and 
pulled the thong off to reveal the wrinkled purple lips of her pussy, mashed 
together.  My tongue moistened them and they began to separate.  I went over 
them again and they opened wide, she moaned as I smeared my tongue over her 
pussy, felt her pussy juice coat my nose and my face as I dove into that 
steamy, slippery place.

Really, what was there not to like about the vision above my head-- the big 
droopy tits, the soft rolls of tummy, the broad, sturdy hips?  Her husband 
was an idiot if he couldn't see the sexiness of what his wife had become, 
but I was happy to help keep things happy at home.

Suddenly she had had enough of me licking her pussy for the moment, and, 
grunting inchoately, she pulled me up onto the couch, then began unbuckling 
my belt as she licked and then-- yow!-- bit one of my nipples.  She whipped 
my pants and boxers down and in an instant she had my cock in her mouth, 
licking up the side, moaning as she held it against her cheek, rubbed it 
over her face and eyes as she licked at my balls.  I reached for her tits as 
she did that and she soon got the message, smiling broadly at me as she 
pressed her tits around my cock and rubbed them up and down around the 
shaft.

Then she climbed on top of me and I felt her pussy suck my cock inside as 
the full weight of her hips came crashing down on mine.  The couch wasn't 
exactly the perfect place for getting a good rhythm but she didn't care, she 
wanted a cock in her so badly, and I just enjoyed the sight of all this 
juicy, abundant womanhood fucking so hard on top of me, her big droopy tits 
flying every which way, her belly jigging as my cock went inside her, her 
ass quaking with each thrust on top of me.  It was great to just feel her 
all over, from her tummy to her tits, as she flailed away on top of me--

And then from upstairs one of the kids yelled "Mommy, I need my poopy 
changed!"

She stopped, looked at me with a "what are you gonna do" look, and climbed 
off, motioning to me not to move.  She put her clothes back on and 
disappeared for a moment; I heard her talking to the kids, then washing her 
hands, then locking the gate at the top of the stairs.

When she came back I was standing in the doorway.  I took her by the hand 
and kissed her, slowly and more romantically than the hungry face-sucking 
we'd started out with.  She let her clothes drop off again and then she led 
me down the hall to a guest bedroom.  She lay down on the bed but I motioned 
to her to turn over onto her stomach, showing me that broad, beautiful butt.

I climbed on top of her, cradling my cock in the crack of her ass, nuzzling 
her neck with my lips.  I moved down slowly, kissing my way down her back, 
then arrived at her bountiful ass and began to rub my face on it, squeezing 
her chubby hams together.  Then I pulled them apart and started to lick my 
way down the crack until I reached her asshole.  I tickled the wrinkled hole 
with the tip of my tongue; she moaned rapturously.  I licked at it harder, 
swirling around, opening it up, and her butt began to rise and buck back 
against my tongue.

I reached my hand into her sopping pussy and came up with a bunch of 
slippery wet juice, and rubbed that against the hole, allowing one of my 
fingers to slip inside.  She grabbed the pillow and bit into it with a growl 
of delight.  As my finger went in and out she fucked it more and more 
vigorously with her ass, and it was obvious she was ready.

I propped her big ass up in the air and stuck my cock into her pussy to get 
it wet again.  She made some sort of noise of disappointment but then she 
understood as I pulled out and pressed the head against her ass.  Slowly I 
felt her ring open up and then my head popped inside and she moaned "Oh 
fuck, fuck yes, do it," and I began to fuck in and out of her ass as she 
reached back and began to rub her clit.

One of the kids yelled "He's not sharing!" but without missing a beat she 
yelled back "Play nice or I'm coming up there!" as she continued to ride my 
greasy shaft with her plump, quivering ass.  We fucked like that and then 
she pulled off of me and turned around, holding onto my cock.  She grabbed a 
package of baby wipes and quickly wiped my cock clean, leaving it with a 
slight scent of sandalwood, then sucked my cock again, pumping the shaft 
vigorously until my first spurt shot into her mouth and was quickly 
swallowed.  She opened her mouth, letting the next spurt splash over her 
tongue and dribble down into her tits; I pulled out of her mouth and shot 
four or five more times on her tits, then grabbed them and starting licking 
my milk off of them.  When my mouth was full I kissed her and she stuck her 
tongue in my mouth and sucked the cum out of my mouth, swallowing it.

We fell back on the bed, exhausted for the moment.  I held her against me, 
enjoying the motherly warmth of her soft, abundant body.  "Will I see you 
again?" she finally asked.

"If you want to, I'd love to," I said.  "Although you really ought to find 
some way to make your husband appreciate how wonderful you are, without any 
clothes on and with the kids put to bed."

"Yeah," she said, sadly.  "Maybe I just needed a little shot of confidence 
for that."

"I'll gladly shoot my confidence all over you again," I said, and kissed her 
deeply, holding her tight, feeling her curvy bottom in my hands, her big 
breasts pressed against me.  "Whatever you want to do."

"Well," she said, "we have Gymboree Monday, a mom's group Tuesday, swimming 
lessons Wednesday and storytime Friday.  How would Thursday be for fucking 
me in the ass?"

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