Big Goth Women Rule My World

Transcript

I guess if you put a gun to my head, it would be hard for me to tell you when I got interested in bigger women with a darker side. I don't know, some people call them goths, I don't know. Ever since I was a kid, I always recall being attracted to something about the way those females dressed in all dark, dark makeup, the outfits, the clothes, the attitude.

I certainly didn't follow along, I don't know, and I never really got into that whole culture myself, but there was an underlying attraction. Every now and again, I might find a partner who shared those interests, but up until right now, until I met you, well, things changed. I've said this before, I also had an aversion for the extremely fit, overly fit people.

I like something to hold on to. You can keep your anemic people. No thank you, I don't want anyone who starves themselves, I like regular ass people.

Now how did you come into this picture? That's a tough one, but when I saw you, something about you, well, I guess it doesn't matter. I guess to fast forward through all the bullshit, I guess we became friends and I was in a predicament.

I needed to pick up my car from a mechanic, but I needed a ride and I was embarrassed to ask anybody else. You and I had been talking about something completely, completely different. You asked me about that car.

When I explained to you the situation you offered, well, opportunity, well, I figured I needed to repay you for that wonderful favor. We ended up going out to lunch and as it turned out, we had a great fucking time. I got to go out with the goth girl.

I was ecstatic, I couldn't have been happier. I don't even know what to say. And now, and now here we are, I'm sitting here, literally sitting here on my couch.

We were watching something on TV and you've excused yourself. You wanted to go get some water or something. I heard the light on the bathroom go on momentarily.

I thought to myself, it must take a lot to deal with all that dark makeup on your face. I mean, you look beautiful with or without, but it must take a lot of work and a lot of effort and I applaud it. I don't think I could ever do that.

And suddenly I hear the switch turn off and you are, for the first time now, coming into my view. I hear movement coming down the hall and then I see black nail polish and your pretty fingernails, two hands on the floor and then your forearms and your dark, dark hair. You are, for the first time, on all fours making your way towards me.

That black tight top, the black suspenders, that red pleated skirt, the black stripes, black stockings and high heels, black everything, your hair, black pigtails. Your tits sway from side to side as you move towards me before you find your place right between my knees. I'm still in shock, a bit confused about what's going on here.

I sit up straight while you lean in. You rub your cheek up against the bulge in my pants. I can't help but let a small groan escape from my lips.

It fills you with more than you need, maybe more than you thought was possible in that moment. More than I thought was happening here. I don't really know what you're all about.

I know you're a really, really nice girl, perfect and if I'm being honest I've sat here, I've stroked my cock thinking about you sitting on top of it numerous times. But here you are. Are you some kind of a dominant bitch? Are you one of those submissives? I don't know much about all of that.

But all I do know is that skirt is hiked up quite a bit. Through the reflection of the picture across the room, I can see your black panties and You're on all fours in front of me, your cheek against my thigh, those big, big dark eyes matching dark eyeliner, eye shadow looking up at me. You're here for me.

You bury your face into the fabric of my crotch and you inhale deeply. I do the same. You're scent, it's intoxicating.

I feel myself starting to salivate. Meanwhile you start kissing the fabric of my jeans, separating yourself from what you perhaps assume is the closest thing to what religion might look and feel like. You're already on your knees.

You look like you're ready for some sort of worship. I watch your tongue extend from between the contrasting white lips of your black mouth. You lick them, look up at me, and those eyes, those eyes destroy me.

With both your pretty hands on my belt buckle, you simply ask me, can I, can I, can I, Daddy? I am without words. I want to say something, but I am frozen, intoxicated by your beautiful face, watching the lines of your neck, your collarbone.

How pretty, pretty your eyes are. The bangs of your hair, it's amazing. Again, I'm picturing you sitting on top of my car, thrusting deep inside of you, over and over.

Your dark lipstick. I realize my head slowly moves up and down. I can see the black nail polish on your fingernails moving as you start to unbuckle my belt.

I see a smile begin at the corner of your mouth. Your eyes, long eyelashes start to bat. Your lips twist.