The Mature Maid Who Fulfilled My Dirtiest Fantasy

The first time Yolanda came to work at the house, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was the fattest woman I’d ever seen in person, and to me that meant something. In my family and among the people around me, the only things that were abundant were eating disorders, women skinny to the bone, ribs showing and hollow faces. Seeing a woman that big, with so much soft, plentiful flesh, was downright fascinating to me.

Or maybe it wasn’t new. Since I was a kid I’d carried that taste around, that very specific fantasy of fucking a fat woman and not letting go.

In high school I had an overweight classmate whose uniform skirt came up high enough to leave her cellulite-covered thighs on display, and that got my cock hard as a rock. I watched porn in that genre almost every night. The hand jobs I gave myself with those videos left me sprawled on the bed, empty and satisfied at the same time.

Yolanda came to help with the cleaning and everything else. Our usual maid was on leave after a bad fall, and she was the one who recommended her. “A Bolivian woman I trust completely,” she’d said.

The day she showed up she was wearing black leggings and a T-shirt that was supposed to be loose but clung to every fold of her body.

Truly enormous. Cellulite patterned her legs beneath the tight fabric. Her skin hung from her arms and her belly drooped forward. Her tits were so big they rested on her stomach. She wore a bra, although it was as if she didn’t, because you could make out her thick, hard nipples under the T-shirt.

A round face, a neck hidden in a double chin, a button nose, and brown eyes. Her black hair fell straight to her waist.

And the ass. As wide as her hips, a map of pits and cellulite moving with a life of its own with every step she took. One chair would never be enough for her.

While my mother explained the tasks to her, all I could do was look at her and try to hide the hardness rising in me.

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye too. Maybe because I was too obvious. I didn’t care.

It was like that throughout her first month. Every time she showed up in those leggings, it got harder and harder to hide what she did to me. A lot of the time I had to lock myself in my room, spy on her through the security camera on my phone while she cleaned, and jerk off fast thinking about her.

I called her Maxi, short for Maximiliano. Sometimes “changuito,” like they call kids over there in Bolivia, I guess. And I guess I used to think of it because of the age difference. She had two kids my age, and I had just turned twenty.

That only made me hotter: the idea that she could be my mother. My fat mother.

***

One afternoon, while she was scrubbing the kitchen, I was sitting on the counter with my laptop. From her angle she couldn’t see the screen: porn of fat women, volume on barely audible, while I watched her clean in leggings tight enough to choke her.

The fabric was wedged between her enormous ass cheeks. I don’t know if she was wearing a thong or nothing at all, but it looked like she had nothing on underneath. In my head I imagined burying my face between that ass, swallowed up, while in the video a guy fucked a fat woman doggy-style and her cheeks bounced like waves.

I was so hard I couldn’t even stand up from the stool. I was wearing soccer shorts, and the tent in them was so obvious that if she turned her head she’d notice right away.

—Maxi, can I ask you something? —she said without stopping wiping the counter.

—Of course, Yola, go ahead.

—Why do you always look at me like that?

—Like what?

—Like you want me. Like you’re looking at me now.

My face must have been a picture, because I felt her blush too. I didn’t know what to say, and my silence told her everything. She laughed.

—Oh, changuito. You’re not going to tell me I turn you on? Me? A fat old woman?

—You’re beautiful, Yola —was all I could get out, my voice breaking.

—You think so?

—Yes.

—Even though I’m a fat old woman?

—That makes it better.

—How? You like fat girls, Maximiliano?

I didn’t know how to answer that either. But by the tone she was using with me, by how she’d set the rag aside, I understood it was the moment. The chance to fulfill what I’d been jerking off to for weeks.

—Yes. They turn me on.

She opened her eyes, surprised, as if she hadn’t expected such a direct answer. Then a smile appeared on her face that you don’t forget.

—You’ve never been with one, have you? —I shook my head—. I can tell. You spend all your time watching fat-girl porn like me.

—How do you know that?

—You’re not subtle, changuito. The other day I walked past your room and the door was open. I saw what you were watching on the screen.

—Oh... does that bother you?

—No, Maxi. It doesn’t bother me. I like punks like you too.

If I’d been hard a minute before, now I was a steel bar.

—I’m not that young.

—You’re twenty and I could be your mother. Does that get you hard too?

—Yes, Yola. You have no idea how hard I am right now.

—Let’s see. Show me.

***

It was time. There was no turning back. I got up with difficulty from the stool and planted myself in front of her, leaving the tent in my shorts fully visible. She dropped her eyes to my bulge, bit her lip, and smiled. Without wasting a second, I pulled it out.

I’ve got a good dick, if I may say so. Not the longest, but thick enough that more than one girl had complained. White, with a broad pink head, heavy, loaded balls. Too loaded, considering I’d already jerked off that same morning in her name.

—Uff, changuito. You’re even better than I thought.

—You were thinking about my dick?

—Yes. I told you I like punks like you. What do you want us to do?

—I want to fuck you. Badly.

—And if I split it with my fat ass?

—That’s what I want. To tear each other apart.

—Oh, Maxi, you’re turning me on so much. I’m going to give you your fantasy. But this doesn’t leave this kitchen, okay? And then delete the camera recordings... or keep them for yourself, so you can keep jerking off to me.

When she started taking off the worn-out work shirt I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Her body was exactly as I’d imagined: pure soft flesh. Her belly sagged, etched with stretch marks and cellulite. The bra barely contained her heavy tits. When she slipped it off, the nipples dropped dark and thick, just like the rest of her.

Then came the leggings, almost see-through. I wanted her to give them to me, to smell them, to jerk off with them on my face. Same with any used thong that had gotten lost in the biggest ass I’d ever seen in my life.

Her pussy was fleshy and shaved, to my surprise. Partly hidden by her belly, but visible from where I was standing. Milk-white skin, marked by stretch marks and a patch or two of pigmentation.

I started sweating from heat and desire. I needed to get inside her as badly as I needed to breathe. To smell her, knead her flesh, feel those huge thighs squeezing me.

—You like it, Maxi?

—I need to fill you up, Yola.

She laughed hard, her whole body shaking with it.

—That bad, you little punk? Come here. First I want to suck your dick.

***

It took her forever to get down on her knees in front of me. You could barely make out her knees. But when she grabbed my cock and took it all the way to her throat in one go, I saw stars. From the angle I was at I could only see her tits swaying, the rolls, her ass resting on her heels.

She sucked like a pro. You could tell from the years, from the difference with any girl my age. She ran her tongue all over the shaft, then swallowed it whole, pulled it out, licked my balls, and took them into her mouth, leaving them dripping. She went lower still, almost grazing me with her tongue where no one had ever touched me before.

—Do you like it, Maxi?

—Jesus. The way you suck me, you fucking bitch.

—Do your little girlfriends suck you like this?

—None of them. You’re perfect, Yola.

—This dick is perfect, changuito. As fat as me. Makes me want to tear it off by sucking it.

—I’m going to put it all in you.

—In my fat little cunt?

—Yes. Right now. I can’t take it anymore.

I had to help her get up off the floor. With every movement, the rolls and all that body of hers swayed, and I couldn’t stop looking at her. She came closer, grabbed my face with both hands, and devoured my mouth. I hadn’t expected it, but I kissed her hard, all tongue, teeth knocking, saliva. My hands roamed over her body, grabbed her tits and let them go to watch them bounce. Just with that a little liquid leaked from the tip of my cock.

I sucked on them, played with them, and Yolanda moaned and yanked my hair.

—Come on, punk. Lick my pussy.

***

Getting between her legs was like diving into the sea. Her huge thighs opened up and welcomed me when, with my help, she lay back on the kitchen floor. Anyone who came in could see us, and that only made us hotter.

Her pussy was fleshy, dark, abundant. I stroked it with my whole open hand, because that was the only way to cover it. I slapped it several times with my palm, and she cried out and squeezed her tits.

I had to pry her open with my fingers to find her clit, the only small thing on her whole body. I licked her the way she had licked me, flooded her with saliva, fingered her, and nibbled on her hard clit.

—Ay, Maxi, that feels so good when you lick me.

—You like it?

—I love it, you little shit. Now the ass, come on. Put your tongue in my asshole, I want to feel it.

She grabbed her thighs and pulled them up to her chest, leaving everything on display. I’d never eaten anyone’s ass before, and the idea of breaking my cherry with her drove me insane.

—I want to fuck you there, Yola.

—You want to put your dick in my fat ass?

—Yes.

—Okay. But first give me tongue.

Having to open her flesh like layers was the best part. I never thought a woman could have stretch marks back there, and she did. I dove in like into deep water. I ate her like it was my last meal, not giving a damn about anything, because the taste drove me crazy. My tongue went all over her, I poured saliva into her, went in as far as I could. Her cries confirmed she liked it.

—Ay, Maxi, the way you eat me. You’re beautiful, changuito.

—I’m going to let me put it in here, fat girl. It looks like it’s all used up.

—Yes, yes. Put it all in me. Break me open with that dick of yours. You’re driving me crazy. You’re a pig just like me.

***

I didn’t have a condom and I didn’t care. I knelt in front of her spread thighs and shoved it in all at once.

I didn’t know if the scream was from pleasure or pain, but my cock sank in deeper.

—Ay, Maxi, slow down!

—I can’t, Yola. I want you so bad. I need to break you open.

—Come on, punk. Do it, then. Break me open with that beautiful dick.

It went in and out without any effort. She was so open and so wet that it was pure pleasure. Hearing her moans, her insults, the filthy things she told me while that huge body of hers writhed beneath me, got me closer and closer to the end.

My hands couldn’t encompass even one part of her whole. Spread-legged, with the cellulite and rolls spilling out, she looked exactly like every hand job I’d ever given myself.

—What a fucking fat pig you are. How much I jerked off thinking about this moment. I dedicated every one to you, Yola. You’re my fantasy.

—I know, changuito. I know you like looking at me, how fat I am. That’s why I wore the light-colored leggings, so you could see my ass bouncing and imagine this.

—Then get on all fours. I want to see it bouncing against me.

With my help she managed to turn over and get on all fours. Her body was trembling. Inside I was laughing: if my friends saw me fucking the fat maid at home, they’d laugh their asses off in my face. But my cock loved it. It stayed rock hard when I drove it back into her all the way to the hilt.

Her ass bounced against my hips. I fucked her hard, ignoring her complaints, with rage and desire mixed together.

—I’m going to fill you up, fat girl.

—Yes, you little punk. Fill me up. I know it drives you crazy fucking an old woman who could be your mother, right? Dirty boy. Let’s see you fill me up.

—What ass? Look at what you’ve got. You’re so fat I can’t even get my hand around it.

—Uff, yes, my love. Talk to me like that and you’ll make me come.

—Come while I fill you, come on.

—Aaaah, yes, Maxi!

I came so hard it overflowed onto the floor. The almost poetic image of the fat woman on all fours with the result dripping between her ass cheeks left me empty.

***

We didn’t say anything while we pulled ourselves together. She went back to cleaning and I locked myself in my room. The next day she didn’t come. Nor the day after that. She’d quit, and that left me feeling a little off. Maybe it was guilt, maybe shame. All I know is I kept the camera recordings, and even today, some nights, I jerk off in Yolanda’s name, my favorite former fat maid. Or the only one.