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Jake and Brittany Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2021-05-27 14:16:17 +0000 UTCJake and Brittany
Life without a car was rough. My Toyota had decided recently that it would rather finish its days in a junkyard than with me on the road. Not having those basic luxuries in life had put me in a rather awkward stage in my life, one I struggled to see a way out of. They say when you get older, debt becomes more and more of a burden. If this was going to get worse, I wasn’t sure if I could afford to get any older. The car, while paid off, was not going to get me any money, and I was now scraping by on bus fare, and I felt the world passing me by. While some of my friends were out with girlfriends, cruising about town, having all of the fun, I was at home, alone, not able to afford leave at times, wondering when it would be my turn.
But a guy’s gotta eat. I hopped off of the bus and made my way to the grocery store. It’s funny how some people follow you off of the bus, as you may be sharing a destination. The old cat lady needed some cat food, and the young kid needed to get some soda and candy for later. I needed groceries. While none of us had similar reasons to go here, we all found ourselves in it together, and as much as I didn’t like being lumped in with them, there was something comforting about knowing we had a common goal. There was no eye contact as we marched towards the store, and as soon as we passed through the automatic glass doors, we all split up and went our separate ways, without so much as a whisper. The journey was over. Back to square one, I became a man on a mission.
I had a list before me. I intended to make my very exciting casserole. You see, when a man is forced to live within his means, he must take it upon himself to squeeze the value out of every dime (forget pennies). The casserole is the desperate man’s best friend (unless dogs were back on the menu). The requirements for the dish were simple. A can of peas, because they’re green. A box of noodles, for the slimy texture. A can or two of tuna, or, if I was feeling particularly fancy, some shredded chicken, because a man needs his meat. To round it out, two cans of cream of mushroom soup, to give it that broth texture. A meal of this caliber could easily last three days. Four if I stretched it, and stretch it, I would.
Everything fell into place. The supermarket was a bit on the busy side today, odd for a Thursday, but not unexpected. Maybe the popular people were getting ready for some big Friday party that all of the other popular people were being invited to. They were all in a hurry to get wine, beer, fruits, and all of the other things I was too broke to afford, all in the name of showing off. How much fun could one of those parties be in any way? I’m sure if I went to one, which I wouldn’t, they would be a group of lame socialites sitting in a big circle, jerking each other off and comparing Rolexes.
I hit a small snag in my scavenging: I had a specific brand of peas that I liked buying, and they were sold out. Coincidentally or not, they were also the cheapest brand of peas. I pushed aside the other brands to see if one was hiding, but alas, it was to no avail. Thoughts of my budget slipped into my brain, doing figure eights on my bank account. I heard a voice come from behind me. “Can I help you find anything?”
I turned around. Here in front of me was a girl, probably around my age (early twenties), with dark brown hair and green eyes. She was a few inches taller than me, and a bit on the chubby side. She looked to be maybe 200 pounds. Okay, maybe she was more than chubby, but I thought she looked really cute, and saying fat has such a negative connotation that I would try to use any other word. One positive was that she appeared to have some nice curves, though she wore a tan apron that draped over her entire frame. I could venture to say, however, that her chest jutted out a pretty impressive distance. I just then remembered that she had asked me a question. “Oh, um, yeah. I was wondering if you had any more of the store brand peas?”
She pulled out her scanner gun and zapped the label on the shelf. She looked at the screen. “Well would you look at that, we have a ton in the back. I’ll go grab some for you. Wait here just a second please.” I nodded. She turned and walked away. She most certainly had curves from behind. She was wearing jeans, and guys know that when a girl has a booty, jean pockets look extra tight, and these were no exception. There was a slight sway as she walked, sending that battering ram of a behind back and forth. It almost made me forget about my problems, seeing her walking away.
She was a bigger girl than I was generally in to. That was an odd thing to think. I had never been a guy that girls flocked to, so to say that I had a type was somewhat misleading. I was certainly not one to turn down the ladies. What if this girl asked me out? Would I say yes? “Here you go!” came her voice. I shook out of my thoughts, and my head immediately focused on the can of peas in front of me, then the bulging chest puffed out in front of me. My eyes couldn’t help but wander slightly around the can. “What are you going to make with these peas?”
“Thank you,” I replied. I put the peas into my small handbasket. Oh wait, there was another question. “Oh, I’m going to make this casserole. It’s pretty much the best thing ever, if you literally can’t afford anything else.”
She laughed, then sighed. “Don’t I know it. I’m in the same boat. I think I’m eating Ramen tonight. I know it’s a disaster for your body, but I also had to pay for my car for the month, so…”
“Well I highly recommend this casserole. It’s super cheap and easy to make. I’m not Top Chef or anything like that, but I can make a mean casserole.”
“A man that can cook? Well aren’t you a keeper!” She giggled. I noticed that when she laughed, her chest bounced up and down. I quite enjoyed that. Maybe I should try to tell her some more good jokes?
“Well, surely your boyfriend can make better stuff than this,” I said. Okay, not a joke, but a probing question for sure.
“I don’t think I have to explain that I am quite single. I’m not exactly every man’s type.”
Some courage sparked inside of me. I’m not sure where it came from, but it hit me like a surge of power, maybe the intended side effect of that Surge drink from the nineties. “Would you like to share some casserole with me? You can skip Ramen for a night.”
Her eyes lit up. “I would love to! By the way, my name is-“
“Brittany. My name is Jake,” I said, cutting her off. I guess I wasn’t as smooth as I thought I was. After staring at her chest, I had already figured out what her name was.
“Oh right, I have a name tag,” she said. Relief filled my lungs, then left when I exhaled. “Well, how about I come over after work?” I was also relieved that she was willing to come over, seeing as how I didn’t have a car. That would be a conversation for a different day. We exchanged numbers, and I gave her my address. I would have some scrambling to do if I wanted to be presentable for later, as well as making my studio apartment something to look at.
Brittany texted me that she was on her way. The casserole was about finished baking, but the house was still a bit of a mess. Luckily, I was able to wash up in the time allotted, so I didn’t like total crap. A studio apartment is a weird thing to tidy up. It’s kind of awkward to make something look nice when you eat in the same place that you sleep. I had seen some people from New York make it look stylish and trendy, but I was a poor guy, so it looked like I went to bed watching TV every night, which honestly wasn’t that far off.
I heard the doorbell ring. I threw some trash into my garbage can and stumbled towards the door. I took a deep breath, then opened it up. It should be said that I’m a pretty short guy. I’m about 5’4”, and weigh not much over 120 pounds. Okay, I’m tiny. This could have been a contributing factor to why I was so unpopular with the ladies. When I opened the door, I was now about eye level with Brittany’s neck. She was wearing high heels, with a bottle of wine in her hand. Her dress was a simple white and black blouse that showed off her curves nicely. Her hair was the same as it was back at the store. The biggest difference though, coming from a man’s perspective, was the noticeable cleavage poking out of the top of her dress. When I noticed that her chest was rather large earlier, in no way did I think it was this large. Her breasts looked incredible, and I was speechless for a moment. “Hey!” she said, lurching forward and embracing me in a hug. Her breasts pressed against my upper chest and even grazed my chin. We wrapped our arms around each other and stayed there for a moment. “It’s good to see you Jake.”
“Well it’s great to see you, Brittany!” I said, not even trying to hide my excitement. “To say you’ve outclassed me tonight would be an understatement. I mean you’re beautiful, you’re wearing a dress, you have wine-“
“Five dollars on the bottom shelf,” she said jokingly, raising the bottle in the air. “But thank you, that’s so sweet of you.”
“The casserole should be about ready,” I said. I walked to the oven and pulled it out. “Ah yes, my masterpiece is complete.” I set up the table. Luckily I had some wine glasses. I thanked my mother in my head for supplying those as a moving out gift. Finally, it was time to use them for something other than fake decoration. We sat down and started eating.
“Oh my god, this is so amazing,” Brittany said. “I could eat this food every day.”
I laughed. “Be careful what you wish for. I pretty much eat this every day. I put some special ingredients in there for this special occasion. If you’ll notice, there’s some celery in there. Here are some carrots. I kind of went all out for this dinner.”
“And peas!” she said! From where I was sitting, I could see that her breasts were hovering over the table. I had never dated a girl that was so stacked in my life. I had rarely dated, but that was another topic. Don’t screw this up, I thought to myself. “I’m so glad I bumped into you today, and to think, it was all because I forgot to stock the peas this morning.” We both laughed. “So, what do you do?”
“I work at a call center. Oddly enough, I don’t make any calls, I’m more of a processing department. You’ll never hear a phone call from me asking you to buy something.”
She had a very sexy look in her eyes. “I don’t know. If you called, I might be inclined to buy something if it meant you would stay on the line with me.” The soft fabric of her fancy shoes were rubbing against the side of my leg. I felt the touch go up my back and up my spine. The hairs on my arms stood up. I hadn’t felt a touch like that in some time, so long that I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be intimate. Needless to say, we finished dinner fairly rapidly. A few glasses of wine in, we were a bit more loose.
I recommended we watch something on Netflix, and she agreed. It gave us an excuse to get on the couch. We were watching an episode of some awful television show when she edged close to me, her thigh now touching mine. I had to say, her body was larger than mine, and that’s not me being mean or insulting, it’s just a very obvious fact when placing both bodies side by side. Her thigh was meaty and thick, whereas I was thin and wiry. Her body turned towards me seductively, her heavy breasts puffed out in a display of sexual confidence. In a smooth movement that lasted seconds but felt like forever, she pulled me close to her with her arms wrapped around my neck. My hands gripped her head and we kissed.
Our first kiss was an elaborate one. Passion exploded from our lips, with our tongues tasting each other frantically. Her plush lips felt moist and thick as I lightly nibbled on them, and she softly moaned while we explored each other’s mouths. Her hand grabbed my right hand and placed it on her left breast, which was proving to be more of a handful than I thought. I lightly squeezed, and she purred with delight. I could feel just how big her breast was, my hand trying to cup it but failing, massaging it, and gently lifting it. She was even more buxom than I thought. How did I manage to pull such a sexy girl?
She was getting aggressive. She took hold of my hair and slammed my face into her chest, arching her body so her face saw the ceiling. I was plunged into her fleshy embrace, now indulging in the deep crevice of her vast cleavage. Her breasts each had a nice sense of weight to them, and it took more than a little effort to push them apart. My hands squeezed them together (not that it really needed it, they were naturally perky and squeezed into the dress as is) and pushed forward. I kissed the upper part of them, going back and forth between the pair, and she appeared to be loving it immensely. “Do you like my boobs, Jake?” She did a sexy dance with my head between her tits, shaking her chest back and forth. I was merely along for the ride.
I pulled out and muttered “I love them.” She laughed at me; my face must have been red from lack of oxygen, but I couldn’t wait to take the plunge again. No oxygen was worth breathing with these giant breasts awaiting me. Back into her chest, she pulled me down with her in a laying position, me on top of her. She gently massaged my head. I was in Heaven.
“I have a rule, Jake,” she said, still smothering me. “I don’t have sex on the first date. Is that okay?” I gave out a muffled okay. “Thank you! I have had a few guys just use me, and I can’t stand that. I am only interested in serious guys. Let’s go on a few more dates okay?” Again, muffled okay from me. I was not going to turn this boob queen down. She pulled me back up and kissed me again. “I had a fantastic night. I definitely want to do this again. And just an FYI, my boobs are incredibly sensitive. You really had me going for a bit, but I want to save that magic for another night. Can I see you tomorrow night?”
“Of course,” I replied.
She laughed, and gave me the warmest smile I had ever seen. “Awesome. I’ll see you then. I have to work tomorrow morning, so I’ll be heading out. I don’t trust myself to sleep with you tonight, I’ll probably try to rip off your clothing and have sex with your cute body.” She kissed me again.
I walked her to the door, and we kissed some more in the open doorway. Her car was parked on the street next to my studio. She walked out, and stopped and turned. “They miss you already,” she said, holding up both of her breasts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen cleavage like that, stacked so high and firm they could have been two bowling balls attached to her upper torso.
“Well I miss them. I’ll see you soon.” She got in her car and took off. I personally couldn’t believe the night I had just had. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow either.
