The Forbidden {-Fiction-}

I was captivated with her the moment we met. Rather, the moment I saw her glide into the dining room that first time: Her long dark hair, her bright eyes, her full lips, that plump ass, and those boobs. Fuck me, her boobs screamed for me to manhandle them… to grab a hold and squeeze… to plant my face between them and let each tittie slap me on either side of my face while I breathed in her essence.

She was fat though.

And fat chicks don’t cut it with us most of the time. (Truth is, though, that we all like some meat, we all like to grab a hold of something. Fuck yeah.)

Anyways, so, Beth walked in and the more she moved, the more her hair bounced, the more her boobs jiggled… the harder I got.

But I had no idea who she was and couldn’t ask Brad or Chuckie- though I’m sure they woulda loved to talk about her tits. So I just watched her any chance I could- like when she’d walk into the break room. Man, I loved watching her bounce. And I also started chatting it up with Marilyn, the old lady with sagging boobs that worked at the front desk who knew everyone and everything about the nursing home.

Several weeks after seeing Beth that first time, I was leaving and noticed Marilyn sitting alone at the front desk so I asked if I could use the phone.

“Dan, you know I can’t let employees use this here phone,” she replied.

“I know Miss Marilyn, but my grandma’s been real sick and my phone is dead,” I replied, holding up my turned off cell phone.

She looked at me and nodded her head for me to come behind the desk. I dialed the number to my own cell and asked my ailing grandmother if she needed me to bring anything during my visit that evening. I thanked Marilyn after hanging up with grams and left. And the next day, when Marilyn asked how my visit was with sick old grams, I asked about the new chick who happened to be talking with one of the residents near the piano in the community center.

 

“Oh that’s Beth,” she smiled, turning back to me. “She came in from one of the agencies to help with marketing. She seems real nice.”

Marilyn’s bloodshot blue eyes studied me for a moment before she added, “Are you sweet on her, Dan?”

 

I told her I was, but that with my sick grandma and all the moving I’d done over the past couple years, I was a little rusty in the making friends department.