In the soft gray light of early morning, I stirred beneath the rumpled sheets, their cool cotton sliding deliciously over the generous curves of my body. The fabric clung lightly to my warm, soft skin across the full swell of my breasts and the plush expanse of my belly as I moved. Every inch of me felt heavy and inviting, heat radiating from my flesh as if the night’s rest had only deepened the hunger radiating from my BBW form. I had ignored my neediness the night before and woke to it blazing.

My hand drifted lower, parting the folds of my already slick pussy, fingers gliding through the abundant wetness that made me moan softly into the pillow. I was deliciously soaked, the silky juices coating my fingertips as I circled my swollen clit and then pushed two fingers deep inside, curling them against that sensitive spot. The sensation was pure, molten pleasure. My pussy felt hot, velvety, and endlessly wet, clenching greedily around my own touch while the sheets rubbed teasingly against my thighs and the undersides of my heavy breasts.

Eyes half-closed, I imagined my lover’s mouth everywhere at once: kissing the soft undersides of my arms, the deep valley between my breasts, the tender rolls of my stomach and the generous spreads of my hips. In my mind he presses the hard length of his cock against me, sliding it slowly over the warm, cushiony planes of my fat body, dragging it across my belly, nesting it between my thighs, rubbing the thick shaft through the wet mess of my pussy lips while his lips and tongue claimed every soft, trembling inch of me.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I miss having a lover. Especially in the morning.