Sweet April,
By Montrose


We met where she works, a replicated 50's diner in Chicago, IL. She dresses up in poodle 
skirts and cashmere sweaters to greet and seat patrons. I'll never forget the first time she 
showed me to a table. I am 6 feet tall, and in her flat-heeled Oxford shoes she stood level 
with me. She filled that sweater until it begged for mercy. And I begged for mercy as I 
followed her to my table, watching her hips rock the night away under that skirt. 

She turned and smiled, standing very close because of the crowd of tables. "Here's your 
menu, sir."

"Yes." I whispered as our eyes locked. She seemed as reluctant to pull away from that 
moment as I was. "Thank you, April." I eventually continued, reading the nametag 
resting on her breast.

She gave me a smirk and looked to make eye contact again - to pull my eyes back up 
from her chest. "Would you like something else, sir?"

I met her green eyes again - how they sparkled! "I'll let you know."

She performed a quick spin, slapping me with her long, dark ponytail, and rocked her 
hips back to the front of the diner.

All through my meal she walked people past my table. And every time I watched her 
walk past. At first she pretended not to notice, but eventually we were trading flirtatious 
glances and nods of acknowledgment. She even started taking some folks the long way 
around, just to walk past me - or at least it seemed that way.

When my meal was done I paid my tab and made my way to her station by the front door.

"Was everything satisfactory?" She asked.

"Everything was spectacular." I replied. She blushed a bit, but smiled on.

"I'm so glad." She said.

"I hope this doesn't appear too forward, April. But I was wondering if you would be 
willing to go for a drink with me later." I spat the practiced sentence out and managed not 
to drool or bite my tongue!

She seemed a bit shocked. "Well... I can't say..." she stammered.

Prepared for this contingency, I handed her my business card with my home phone 
number scratched on it. "If you decide in my favor, please call. You can name the time 
and place." Her timidity granted me bravery.

She fumbled with the card for a moment, then a new patron stepped in. She shoved the 
card into a pocket and got back to work. I watched her walk this man to a table. Her 
refusal to look back looked a bit forced.

But a week went by and there was no call.

I visited the diner again at the very same time, and sure enough she was working. 
"Welcome to..." She started automatically until her green eyes met mine. Her canned 
smile became more genuine. "Oh, its you. Back for more, sir?"

"It was so good, I couldn't stay away." I replied.

There was that blush again.

She sat me within easy view of her post. I missed the long walk behind her to a table, but 
I was happy to trade it for watching her close up all meal long. At one point I winked at 
her and she suddenly got very busy straightening up menus.

She brought an unnecessary spoon to my table late in my meal. "Is there anything else I 
can get you?" She asked.

"Your phone number." I replied.

She leaned over my table to whisper. I jumped back at first - she had an impressive 
stature. Then I leaned back toward her. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I lost your card a few 
minutes after you left."

My heart pounded! "I can give you all the cards you want." I stammered.

"I get off in an hour. Meet me at the bar across the street." And she was back at her post.

I was just about to order my second beer when I heard her voice behind me. "So, you 
decided to stay."

I turned on my stool to greet her. "Was there ever any doubt?"

She covered the stool next to me quite nicely; I envied the leather under her. "Sorry about 
the work clothes." she said, dusting off her poodle skirt.

I wanted to let her know there was something erotic about it - something along the lines 
of a dress up fantasy - but I decided it was too early for that conversation.

"You look wonderful." I replied. "Would you like to sit at a table?"

She was fine at the bar. She said she could only stay for a couple of drinks - long island 
ice teas - very strong.

As the night wore on she kept pace with me, matching a new long island ice tea for every 
beer I drank. I was feeling buzzed myself. If I had been drinking what she was drinking, I 
would have been on the floor. She was only a little bit higher than I was. Impressive 
tolerance for alcohol, I thought. But then, given her mass, she probably out-weighed me 
by 30 pounds. Hers was still an hourglass figure, only bigger. Maybe a week- or month-
glass.

By one in the morning she had me pinned against a wall in a booth, her arm around my 
shoulder, telling me her life story. She had an abusive father who she eventually beat the 
crap out of when she turned 14. He went to prison and became a bitch for cellblock D. He 
died in the prison shower several years ago. She went to work to help support her mom 
and younger brother. Her brother turned abusive when he got older, so she kicked his ass 
and sent him on the road. Last year her mother died from lung cancer - two packs of 
Camels a day. Now she was 23 and on her own, still working in the same place that hired 
her 9 years ago. 

"If you beat up your dad, why is it he landed in prison?" I asked.

"Child abuse." She replied. "Before I stopped him he had beat on my brother pretty bad, 
plus during our fight he managed to get one lucky punch into my eye. Mom's face was a 
mass of bruises, but she didn't want to press charges. So I handed him over to the police 
instead of killing him with my own hands."

"You sure do seem strong." I interjected, feeling the muscle in the forearm she was 
resting on the table. She made a muscle and let me feel it.

"Yep, I am one beefy bitch." She slurred. "At least I have that going for me."

"You have more than that going for you." I added. I don't think she heard me.

"You wanna arm wrestle?" She asked with a sparkle in her unfocused green eyes. Before 
I could answer, she shifted over to the other side of the table and planted her arm upright 
in front of me.

The sight of her created a throbbing woody in my pants. Big, strong women have always 
been a turn on to me.

"Don't be afraid." She said. "I wont hurt 'cha." Apparently my amazement looked more 
like fear.

I put my hand in hers and nodded when I was ready. She said "Go." I put some effort into 
it. "Oh, come on." She sneered. I stepped up my effort. Al least now she had to flex her 
arm to keep our hands upright. I strained into it, now, cheating by grabbing the table and 
half raising out of my chair. She snarled, "Is that all you got?"

I pushed so hard my face turned red and an inadvertent grunt escaped my throat. She 
slammed my hand down so hard our drinks danced. While I nursed what felt like torn 
muscles and broken knuckles, she drained her long island ice tea.

"I better get home." she slurred. "Thanks for a wonderful evening." I started to get up but 
she forced me back into my seat with one hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll get a 
cab."

On her way to the door a man patted her ass. In a flash she planted a fist in his eye and 
flattened him. His friends laughed until they saw he wasn't getting up. She continued to 
the door.

I had to make my way through the crowd, trying to catch up to her. The man she knocked 
out looked pretty tough to me. The whole bar was talking about it. By the time I reached 
the sidewalk her cab was pulling away.

I ate lunch and dinner at the diner for three days before she showed up for work again. 

"Welcome to..." She started automatically until her green eyes met mine. She went white 
as a sheet and started fiddling with the menus. "Oh... About the other night... I'm sorry..."

"I had a wonderful time." I interrupted.

She looked at me like she didn't believe me. "I'll show you to your seat." She whispered. 
When she handed me a menu I made sure our hands met.

"When can I see you again?" I asked. She turned a deep crimson.

"Not here." she whispered.

"After work? Across the street?"

"No." She shot back. My heart dropped. "Do you really want to, after..."

"Of course. Please." I winced at the begging tone in my voice.

"I'll call you." She finally said. She didn't walk past my table very much that night. When 
I left, I winked at her. She looked down at the dog on her skirt and blushed again.

After two more days without a call I was beginning to give up hope, when finally the 
phone rang.

"Do you still want to see me?" came her voice through the line.

"April!" I nearly sang her name. "I don't want to see anyone else."

There was a long silence. "You don't need to spread it on so thick." she stammered. I 
cringed. There was another long silence.

"Will you have dinner with me, or a movie?" I asked holding my breath for her answer. 
Damn, the silence that followed.

"Yes." she finally replied. My heart jumped into my throat and I had to sit down. "I guess 
that's safer than getting me into a bar again. When I get nervous I drink too fast... A bad 
habit from my father's side of the family, I guess."

"We can have coffee."

Our second date started at a Starbucks. She showed up in baggy black pants and an 
untucked white shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Her shoes were platform sneakers, making 
her tower over me.

"I knew I should have worn flats." She murmured when we met.

"Not at all!" I replied. "One of the many things I like about you is your height."

She grabbed my arm hard enough to make we wince. "Let's get something straight." She 
said in a firm tone. "If this is going to work we have to talk straight to each other. No 
more flattering bullshit." She kept the pressure up on my arm, waiting for my response.

"Sure, April." I said in an attempt to save my numbing hand. She let go. "But you're 
going to have to accept that I think you are beautiful." She just rolled her big green eyes 
and ordered a mocha latte. We continued the date with a walk along Lake Michigan, 
talking about dreams, fishing, traffic, and baseball. We had a lot in common.

And she kissed me for the first time by Buckingham fountain. Unfortunately, it was a 
goodbye kiss. Again, she took a cab.

It took two more dates before she gave me her home address. I picked her up at her 
apartment and took her to a play. She was stunning with white beads in her dark hair, a 
revealing neckline, a slit, mid-thigh skirt, and three-inch spike heels. She had bought the 
entire outfit that day and felt rather conspicuous in it. To look at her sent my head reeling 
(and my pants bulging) but I tried to keep my compliments down to earth. I wanted to tell 
her how the sight of her muscular legs made me want to drop to my knees and start 
licking her from her shoe tips all the way up to her ear lobes, with many prolonged stops 
along the way. Instead I just said, "You look splendid." and left it at that.

I couldn't concentrate on the play. The seats were cramped and her hard thigh pressed 
against mine the entire time. To cool off I fanned myself with the playbill. I looked over 
at her and noticed that her eyes were not fixed on the stage, but on my lap. I looked down 
and saw that my raging boner was creating a major pup-tent in my pleated slacks.

I dropped the playbill on my lap and adjusted my hard-on. Her cheeks flushed and she 
looked up at the stage. But she took my hand in the dark and held it for the rest of the 
show.

Late that night I walked her to her door. She raised my head, pulled me close and took me 
with a long kiss. As the kiss progressed the swelling in my pants returned and dug into 
her thigh. She rubbed her leg into me, encouraging me to press closer into her. Finally 
she broke the kiss. "Would you like to come up for a glass of wine?" She asked looking 
down into my eyes.

"God yes." I gasped.

She chuckled nervously and let us in.

It was a humble setting. She used milk crates for book shelves and the stereo looked to be 
twenty years old or more. The record collection had to be her mother's - no CDs or CD 
player. She put on some Charlie Parker and pointed me to a bottle of cheap red wine in 
the kitchen. She wanted to change clothes.

By the time I had two juice glasses of wine ready she was on the couch in a sleeveless T-
shirt and tight satin shorts.

"My god." I stammered. "You still look splendid!"

"Now, what did we agree on, about bullshit?" She laughed, half teasing.

"Why is it you never believe me when I tell you how magnificent you are?" I asked. I 
must have been making her nervous because she shot the first glass of wine back in one 
gulp and poured herself another.

After drinking half of that, she replied. "Because I can see myself, too. I've looked in 
mirrors. I know I'm an enormous pile of meat."

An enormous pile of hot meat, maybe, I thought to myself.

"You must be looking in one of those funhouse mirrors." I replied. "I see a tall, powerful, 
and alluring woman."

"I'll give you tall and powerful..." she replied. "Too tall, and too powerful. I'm a freaking 
moose." She drained another glass. I gulped mine and let her refill us both - the bottle 
was almost empty.

"No." I said. "You're a woman, alright. But better than any other I have
met."

She stood up and drained her glass again. That cockiness she displayed in the bar once 
she got lit was returning. "You think I'm hot, big boy? Fine." She straddled my legs and 
stood directly in front of me as I sat on the couch. She loomed over me like a goddess 
with her hands on her round hips. "So tell me, what's so fuckin' hot about all this meat?"

It was my turn to drain my wine quickly before starting. "Okay, but don't stop me until 
I'm done. Promise?" I asked as I stood on the couch in front of her. For the first time ever, 
she had to look up at me.

Her green eyes melted into mine. "Okay. I promise." she whispered. The wine on her 
breath puffed up into my face.

"For starter," I grabbed her face in my hands. "These big eyes, full lips, and proud nose 
draw me in. They have all the purity of the girl next door, and all the smoldering mystery 
of a jungle goddess."

She clicked her tongue and rolled those big green eyes.

"You promised not to interrupt!" I warned.

"Sorry." she replied. "Go on."

I kissed her full lips before continuing. "These shoulders and arms... They could crush 
me. But instead, when the wrap around me they transport me to paradise, pressing me 
into your ample bosom."

"Here we go." She murmured.

"Of course you have noticed, every man on the planet admires your proud rack."

She nodded. "Sometimes I feel like I don't have a face. Men keep looking at my tits." I 
was glad that I had managed to look up from her name tag that first day we met.

"And words fail me. The pounding of my heart is the only thing that can describe how 
these..." I hefted them in my hands and gently pressed my face between them. She 
moaned and stroked the back of my head. "What these... No... words do fail me. So I will 
press on."

I dropped to my knees on the couch and wrapped my arms around her thick, but firm 
waist. "This perfect Italian belly hides in the shadows."

"Don't remind me." She grunted.

"This must be the most perfect place on Earth." I continued. "Here, between the 
magnificent peaks of your breasts and the fertile valley and rolling hills below." I said as 
I lowered my hands to stoke her bulging buttock.

I looked up. Her head was thrown back. Her massive arms were up as she ran her hands 
throughw her hair. Her nipples were ready to burst threw the fragile cotton shirt. I moved one 
hand from her butt and slid it up under her T-shirt. I cupped her breasts and lifted it - very 
heavy. She moaned and arched her back.

Suddenly, she whipped the shirt off over her head and then crushed my face into her 
bosom. It was heaven, but with less air. She didn't let me up until I was ready to pass out. 
Her breathing was as heavy as mine!

I pressed on.

"Beneath this luscious belly," I now kissed her exposed belly button (an outy), "Is the 
most perfectly round and inviting set of hips I have ever seen. Every move they make 
stirs my loins." I was snarling now as I spoke.

She snarled back and mashed my face into her satin covered groin. She kicked a leg up 
over my back and onto the back of the couch. My hands ran rampant over her hips and 
butt, squeezing fists full of hard flesh. 

My nose between her legs sent her over the edge and she snatched at her shorts only to 
shred them with her bare hands. Pieces of satin dropped at her feet. I sank my tongue 
deep into her pie. April shuddered and shouted.

"And now for these massive legs..." I went on.

"Oh..." She moaned. "Don't bring me down talking about those tree trunks."

"I call them pedestals." I replied. "Worthy of displaying the riches, above. The reed-like 
stalks that pass for beautiful legs would snap under all this glory."

"True enough." She chuckled.

"The sight of them send me into fantasies of being crushed between them in a fit of 
ecstasy, or riding you around the city, piggyback, bouncing on your meaty rump."

April giggled again and said, "Hmmm..." in a considering sort of way.

"And these feet!" I almost shouted.

"What?"

"I've never noticed your feet before! They are magnificent!" I bent down off the couch to 
lick the one that was planted on the floor.

"You're not going to spend the rest of the night down there, are you? Because I've had 
that date before..." She asked.

"Of course not." I replied. But brand new fantasies were forming in my mind. "Maybe 
just a little longer..." I kissed her big toe nail - it was painted red.

"And maybe not until you tell me a little more about what you see in this." She snarled as 
she grabbed my hair, lifted my head and crushed it back into her muff.

I got busy with my tongue around her dripping quim and perky asshole, and drove her 
into a series of tremors and howls. Eventually she toppled like a mighty sequoia, onto the 
couch. She rode my face a trio of leg clenching orgasms. She almost popped my head like 
a grape between her mighty thighs.

She relaxed, covered with sweat and goop. "So that's what you see..." she panted.

"Don't interrupt." I said as I pulled off my shirt and pants. "I'm not done telling you about 
you yet."

"Oh my GOD!" She squealed as my bouncing rod came into view. "Tell me more, big 
boy!"

I dove onto her and she laughed as she sank my head between her tits. I humped for all I 
was worth for 20 minutes before she grabbed control.

She rolled us onto the floor and hammered down on me for an hour before she came 
again. Then she changed the way she rocked her hips and stoked me to a climax within 
five strokes of her own. While still rocketing through her own climax and forcing me into 
mine, she rolled back over onto her back with me clenched between her legs, arms, and 
breasts. It was the way I always wanted to die.

But she didn't kill me. She let up in time and I gasped for air.

"Wow." She panted. I raised and lowered with each breath she took. "So that's what you 
see in me..."

She positively glowed in the after shock of our love. Or was it the new found pride? At 
any rate, I was amazed as I looked at her and realized that she was now twice as sexy as I 
had previously believed.

So I planked her again.

And that was the start of our romance. She moved in with me almost directly (I make 
much more and have a nicer place).

She grew more confident and more beautiful every day. At 32 years of age, I felt as randy 
as a high school boy again. At work, writing code for an insurance company, I walked 
around all day with a stiff one in my business casual trousers. And at night, the first thing 
I did when I got home was molest my Amazon sweetheart; sometimes right on the 
welcome mat, just inside the door.

Her wardrobe was improving. She started wearing things that accentuated her hips and 
chest rather than trying to hide under drab, baggy clothes. One Saturday afternoon she 
stepped in front of the TV wearing a new white cotton sundress. I was lounging in a pair of 
boxer shorts, watching a ball game.

"What do you think? Do you like this on me?" She asked innocently. It hugged her 
breasts and clamped down around her waist. It billowed over her hips. I got up and 
walked around her once.

"Hmmm..." I said considering it for a moment. Then I jumped up on her butt and humped 
her ass crack through our clothes. She laughed as I pumped away, groping her massive tits 
until I came, rather quickly, in my shorts. I slid down off her back and landed on my 
knees behind her. From there I slipped under her skirt and stuck my head up under her 
ass.

"Wahoo!" she yelped as my tongue went up her butt. She kept laughing. "Can I take that 
as a yes?" She spread her legs farther apart as I wedged two fingers into her quim. I 
worked away under there until she came, too.

"The only reason I kept my pants on was to keep from ruining the fabric." I said as I 
crawled out under the front of the dress.

She dropped down on my back, crushing me to the floor. "Honey, you can come all over 
anything I own." she said sweetly. "Just give me the money to buy another if you ruin it."

"Then go buy another one of those dresses." I said with what little wind I could gather. 
"Because the next time I see you wearing it I'm gonna stain the tits."

"That sounds like fun." she snarled. "Stain them right now."

"But I just shot my load." I grunted. "Get up!"

"You've got more." she said, not moving. "I know you."

"Please!" I begged. "I'm tapped out."

"Maybe its in your other head." she laughed. "Maybe I should squeeze it out." She 
flipped her legs forward, still sitting on my back and pulled my head up between her 
thighs. Then she clamped down on it.

"Ouch! You're killing me!"

"Promise to come on my tits right now and I'll let you up." She said sternly.

She knew my fantasies by now and was playing one out spontaneously.

"Okay!" I gasped. "I promise to come on your tits!"

She got off of me and stood on her knees. I dropped my shorts and leaned into her chest. 
She wrapped her thick arms around me and helped me get a rhythm going. it took a while 
of my cock slipping up and down between her fleshy mounds covered in that soft cotton, 
but eventually I blasted an enormous load... on the up-stroke... and it splattered all over 
her face.

I stood back to admire my work. My come dripped from her nose and chin down onto her 
dress.

"Are you happy?" I panted.

She stood and walked toward me, backing me into a corner. Then, with her face covered 
in my juice, she crammed her tongue down my throat, smearing my come all over both of 
our faces. "You make me so hot I can't stand it." She snarled. And she picked me up and 
ran with me into the bedroom.

I never did get to watch that game.

In the weeks and months to come I lived out my big woman fantasies with the young 
wench. And she had some fantasies of her own. She liked being tied up and "raped," 
under the pretext that she was a savage jungle woman I had captured to bring back and be 
my slave. I told her that one should count as my fantasy, but she wouldn't hear of it. She 
was very specific about how she was to be tied up. I even went out and bought a four-
poster bed for the act.

She had another fantasy involving riding me like a horse, but I couldn't keep that one up 
for long. She usually took over being the horse an hour or so into things.

And that's sweet April in a nutshell. Perhaps I will write again and tell you what 
happened when her brother came back to town.