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Subject: {ASSM} Leitrim's Fancy (FF, Rom, BBW)
Date: Thu, 26 Sep 2002 05:10:05 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Leitrim.txt" begin>
Leitrim's Fancy
GracieFemme
"Omigod Leety, I think I'm in love. Look at that heavenly
creature over there."
"Over where?"
"You must need new glasses, girl. That blond over there at
the tattooing booth, in the red tube top."
Leitrim scanned the row of booths, past the festival crowd
milling about in the street. There were booths offering
jewellery, life insurance, face painting for kids, Christian
Science, hemp clothing, custom-made belt buckles, hot-tub
installation, and, ah yes ... henna tattooing. The blond was
tall and leggy, with the build and face of a fashion model,
despite her trashy outfit.
"She looks straight, Sandy."
"Oh c'mon, you can't tell by looking at her, eh? And so what
if she is? It presents a challenge - getting a babe like that to
realize she's maybe not as straight as she thinks she is."
"Like Denise?"
"Denise was a psychopathic bitch. End of story."
"As I recall, Denise was confused about her sexual identity,
which turned you into an emotional wreck for three months."
Sandy shrugged. "No pain, no gain. I think I'm going to
get a henna tattoo."
"I thought we were going to get some lunch now."
"You go get lunch. I'll catch you up later." As she started
over toward the booths, she turned and winked at Leitrim.
"Maybe."
* * *
Leitrim continued up MacGillivray Street, mildly peeved with
her friend, looking for the Vietnamese food stand she had passed
a bit earlier. Sandy's behaviour didn't surprise her. Though she
knew Sandy had a sensible side as well, her friend had a definite
weakness for Barbie-doll types. And if Sandy's habit of pulling
these girls hadn't found her true love, it had, at least, found
her an active sex life. Sandy's bold manner and butch good looks
got her into bed, more often than not, even with straight girls.
Whereas Leitrim's more timid approach to dating had gotten her
three years of lonely celibacy.
Still no spring roll stand. Could it have been round the
corner, on Hammet Avenue? Leitrim paused to reconnoitre.
"Hi. Can I help you?"
"Oh, hello." Leitrim realized, with some embarrassment, that
she had been staring just over the head of a woman at the booth
directly in front of her.
"I think your hair's probably too short for a hair wrap, I'm
afraid." The woman appeared to be, like Leitrim, about thirty.
She was heavyset, seventeen or eighteen stone, with a friendly
face and sparkling hazel eyes.
"I'm sorry, for a what?" Leitrim, increasingly flustered,
struggled to pull her gaze away from the woman's breathtaking
cleavage, barely contained in a black leotard top. Though she
didn't like to admit it, Leitrim had her own weakness - for
full-figured, maternal types.
"A hair wrap. We're doing hair wraps here. You know, like
this?" The woman held up a long strand of her honey-coloured
hair, tightly interwoven with green and purple thread.
Leitrim began to back away politely. "That's all right.
Sorry, I was just looking for -"
"Wait. Um, I also do backrubs. Can I interest you in a
backrub instead?"
The woman stood up. She was wearing light purple sweatpants,
and was as nicely padded behind as in front.
"Well ... I ... thank you, perhaps just a short one then."
"You sound like you're from England." She felt the woman's
warm hands gently stroking her shoulders through her sweater:
more a caress than a massage. The intimacy of the contact sent a
thrill through Leitrim's body.
"Yes, that's right."
"Been in Canada long?"
"A couple of years now."
"Oh, so you're not just visiting then, eh? What brought you
over, if you don't mind me asking?" She began massaging more
deeply and slowly, and Leitrim's muscles slowly surrendered to
the pleasure of it.
"A job. I teach Gaelic languages and literature at U of T.
There aren't many of those jobs in the world."
"Cool! Like the T‡in Bo Cuailgne and the Ulster Cycle and all
that?"
"That's right. I'm impressed."
"I was really into Celtic and Norse mythology when I was a
teenager."
"Hmm. Me too, I suppose. I just never grew out of it," she
laughed. "So you're in the hair business then?"
The woman laughed. "We're just doing the hair wraps at the
festival to raise money for our school library. See?" She
gestured towards a poster beside the booth that Leitrim had
failed to notice. "I'm a teacher, in my day job. Elementary
school. My name's Marcie, by the way."
"I'm Leitrim. Very pleased to meet you, Marcie." She meant
it, too.
"Leetrin? Sorry?" Leitrim had to spell her name. "I don't
think I've ever heard that name before."
"It's unique, so far as I know. My parents named me after a
county in Ireland, where my family were from. Our lot got kicked
out after Irish independence. I'm sure they richly deserved it -
starved their Catholic tenants, probably. Nevertheless, Ireland
seems to be in my blood. Perhaps I'm trying to atone for the
sins of my ancestors. This backrub feels marvellous, by the
way." Indeed, Leitrim hadn't felt this turned on in ages. And
she began to wonder ... would she ever be able to give Marcie a
backrub in return? Would hugging Marcie's soft, heavy body feel
as good as it looked?
"Good. I could get at your lower back a bit better if you
could turn around in the chair - straddle it so you're facing the
back, that's right. Lean forward a bit." As if in teasing
response to her train of thought, Leitrim felt the warmth of
Marcie's big breasts resting against her back, sending warm fuzzy
tingles of excitement down her spine, right to her moistening
cunt.
"You must be giving me the deluxe treatment. I hope I have
enough cash on me to pay for this."
"The backrub's free. I'm just charging for hair wraps."
"But then ... why ... ?"
Marcie chuckled. "Because you were about to walk away, and I
wanted to meet you. Do you mind?"
"No. No I don't mind," Leitrim said quietly, blushing.
"That's very sweet. Could I make a donation to your library,
though? And could I buy you some lunch?"
"That would be ... oh, I'd just love that. That's very nice
of you. I have to stay at this booth till 3:00, though. But
maybe you could get something from one of the food stands and
bring it back here?"
"Splendid idea. Do you like Vietnamese spring rolls?"
"Oh. Actually, I have to stay away from Vietnamese food.
I'm very allergic to penis."
Leitrim coughed. "Did you say ... ? But, surely they don't
use the ... Er, exactly what animal are we talking about?"
"Animal?"
"Yes, the, er, penis of what animal?"
"The ... did you think I said 'penis'?" And then Marcie
erupted in a peal of giggles, till she was red in the face, her
belly and breasts shaking. "I said ... ," she struggled to catch
her breath, "I said I'm allergic to *peanuts*." Another fit of
giggles. "I stay away from penises too. But that's not an
allergy, that's just a sexual preference." Both women were now
howling with laughter, holding onto each other to keep from
collapsing onto the ground into hysterics.
"You see ..." Leitrim tried to explain between fits of
laughter, "in Britain we usually call them *groundnuts*. And so
when you said ..." Then she lost it again.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, the two women were sitting back at
Marcie's booth, sharing a large plate of samosas.
"That's quite an original coming-out line you've got,"
Leitrim joked. "'Not an allergy, just a sexual preference.' Oh,
and just for the record, I'm a dyke too."
"Well, your labrys ring kind of gave that away already dear.
Not to mention that cute haircut and that Euro-butch-intellectual
outfit you're wearing."
"Oh." She blushed. She took a deep breath. "Well, now that
that's established ... could I, er, could I please take you out
to dinner this evening?"
Marcie smiled. Then frowned. "I'm sorry, I have to see my
mum tonight. But tomorrow evening?"
"Yes."
"Whew!" Marcie grinned. "Let me give you my phone number.
Marcie Fallkirk."
* * *
It was early September, but already the trees in Fraser Park
were beginning to turn golden, and the air was cool. Leitrim
wore her customary black jeans and turtleneck. Marcie was
quietly stunning in a mint-green cardigan sweater and a purple
sarong. They hugged a bit stiffly when they met outside the
Tunisian restaurant Leitrim had suggested - a public display of
affection between two women would have been a bit reckless, even
in this moderately open-minded city.
As they ate broiled fish and cous-cous, Marcie told Leitrim
about the grade-three class that she taught, and the Masters in
education she was working on. Leitrim told Marcie about her
dissertation research, about the Welsh literature course she was
preparing for the following semester. They made running jokes
about not ordering dishes with penises. They discovered they went
to the same gynecologist, and had a couple of friends in common.
They talked about realising, both in their early teen years, that
they were attracted to other girls, or in Leitrim's case, to her
teachers. The conversation was easy and comfortable, an
unusually pleasant experience for Leitrim. Walking back through
Fraser Park, Marcie took Leitrim's trembling hand in her own. By
this time Leitrim had formed two clear opinions: (1) that she
really, really liked Marcie; and (2) that Marcie's immense bum -
the contours of which were clearly visible, jiggling through her
sarong as she walked - was inspiring an overpowering sexual
hunger in Leitrim. But in spite of this powerful attraction,
there was a knot of fear and inhibition forming in the pit of her
stomach: *What if she doesn't really want me like I want her?
What if I disappoint her?*
"I should warn you," Marcie said as they got to her flat,
"that I never kiss on a first date."
"Oh, well, that's all right, I didn't..."
"But I'm prepared to count our lunch yesterday as a date."
She frowned. "Leitrim, is something wrong? You seem upset."
"I'm a bit nervous. Sorry."
"I'm not making you feel uncomfortable, am I?"
"No, it's not you at all. Look, I can't explain this, but I
... I think I'd better go. I'm so sorry, Marcie."
"Yeah, well, me too."
* * *
For the next two days, a thoroughly despondent Leitrim shut
herself up in her office, snarling at any undergraduate students
reckless enough to disturb her. She was in the middle of dealing
with a young man from her History of Celtic Britain course, who
had had the gall to ask if they "had to know all that mediaeval
history shit for the final." Her office phone rang.
"Leitrim?"
"O my God. Marcie. Wait, just a second." Her heart was
pounding. She turned back to her student. "Yes, mediaeval
history will be on the exam. It's a bleeding mediaeval history
course, isn't it?" She slammed her door closed as he retreated.
"Leitrim?"
"Marcie. I ... I didn't expect I'd ever hear from you
again."
"Well, I had a bit of work tracking you down, seeing as I
didn't even know your last name."
"Sorry, it's Yeats."
"I know that now. I spent yesterday evening hunting the
university's webpages looking for you." She paused. "Leitrim,
what happened Tuesday night?"
"Marcie, I know I hurt you that night. I'm sorry. I don't
want to cause you more pain."
"I don't understand. Are you involved with somebody else?"
"No, nobody."
"Leitrim, I know I'm no beauty queen, but I had hoped ...
well, you seemed to be a little attracted to me. Was that just
totally my imagination?"
"Christ, I *am* Marcie. I'm extremely attracted to you. You
turn me on completely. That's the bloody problem. When I meet a
woman I really fancy, I just seem to freeze up. I get all
knotted up inside. Which is totally unfair to you."
Marcie paused. "Could we maybe meet and talk about it?"
"You really want to see me again, after the way I behaved
Tuesday night?"
"If that's all it was - that you just got a bad case of the
jitters - I couldn't hold that against you."
"Marcie, you're an angel. I've been so bloody miserable the
last two days. I ... I miss you, Marcie."
"I miss you too. Could we meet somewhere for coffee? Or
could I just come by the university and see you?"
"I was about to head home. Could you meet me there? I'm on
Camberwell and 117th, apartment 14-J."
"Camberwell and 117th, 14-J. I'll be there in twenty
minutes."
* * *
"I love your apartment. It's really nicely laid out, and
you've got nice big windows."
"Thanks. I made some coffee. Would you like some?"
"Yes, thank you."
They sat down on the sofa. Marcie took her cup and sipped
it.
"Are you feeling 'frozen up' inside right now?"
"Yes, a bit. I don't want to be."
"Is there anything I can say or do to help you thaw out?"
"I don't know. I'm afraid."
"Afraid of me?"
"No, of course not."
"Then what?"
"It's ... like I don't deserve you, and so either I'll do
something to bollocks things up between us, or God will punish me
by making me lose you ..."
"What kind of twisted religion does that idea come from?"
"My father's, I suppose. He's a leader of the evangelical
right wing of the Church of England. I suppose part of the
reason I emigrated from Britain was to get out of range of his
tirades."
"C'mere honey. Let me hold you." Leitrim snuggled into
Marcie's arms, resting her head on Marcie's shoulder.
"You feel wonderful," Leitrim sighed. She thought for a
minute. "My parents were constantly telling me that I was wicked
and sick, and that I could expect nothing but misery in a lesbian
relationship. So it feels like it's only a matter of time before
..."
"Look, Leitrim, what they told you was a load of shit. You
even tried make their predictions come true, by bolting the other
night. But it didn't work. I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Yes. Yes, you are," Leitrim laughed.
"And look at you: you've earned a Ph.D., you've got a
tenure-track job, you're a respected scholar, you've got friends,
you're gorgeous, you're sexy, you're clever, you're sweet.
You're a success on all fronts. Is that how your parents told you
your life would turn out?"
"No. You really think I'm all those things?"
"Of course I do." And her mouth fastened onto Leitrim's in a
long kiss.
"Christ, that feels good!" Leitrim whispered. Leitrim now
returned Marcie's kiss, and with a vengeance. She felt like a
child suddenly turned loose in a sweet-shop. Marcie's body was
so abundant, so warm and soft; she could feel Marcie's large
breasts pressing against her own. And the sensations of Marcie's
earnest lips against hers, Marcie's tongue eagerly dancing with
hers, sharing their very breath, not only thawed her out: it
positively vaporized her. When Leitrim's trembling hands reached
up and began touching Marcie's breasts through her sweater, both
woman groaned at the pleasure of it.
At last, Leitrim panted, "I want to see those big Bristols of
yours."
"Those big whats?"
"Bristols. You know ... breasts. Don't you call them that in
Canada?"
"Not that I've heard," Marcie laughed. "Well, then, would you
like to unbutton me? And should we maybe move into your
bedroom?"
* * *
Sitting on the edge of the bed, with trembling hands, Leitrim
unbuttoned Marcie's cardigan, which Marcie quickly shrugged off.
She unclasped Marcie's bra, and a moment later, Marcie stood
before her, offering her heavy, drooping breasts to Leitrim's
hungry mouth. Leitrim's mind took a back seat and her body took
over, kissing, sucking, licking, biting, pulling off Marcie's
skirt and knickers as well as her own clothes. At last, both
women were naked, Leitrim with her face buried in Marcie's wet
cunt, sucking, licking, gripping Marcie tightly by the hips, as
Marcie's hefty body writhed and shuddered through a series of
intense orgasms.
Then Marcie rolled on top of Leitrim, pinning her to the bed
with her weight, as their thighs intertwined and Marcie began
moving against her. Feeling the heat and wetness of Marcie's
vulva against her own throbbing, soaked clitoris, Leitrim came,
quickly but powerfully, digging her fingers into Marcie's
enormous, pillowy bum, her mouth capturing the soft, heavy breast
dangling in her face, sucking the stiff nipple.
Afterward, she opened her eyes and saw Marcie's face,
beaming, beside her. "Whew! That was ... wow! Are you OK,
Leitrim?"
Leitrim smiled back. "Give us a kiss, love."
Marcie obeyed, tasting her own juices on Leitrim's lips and
chin. Then she began kissing her way down to Leitrim's chest,
licking and sucking at Leitrim's nipples, whilst her fingers
began a light flutter over Leitrim's clitoris. She moved further
down, her tongue replacing her fingers: that quickly brought
Leitrim to another crashing orgasm.
"So," Marcie said at last, "have we taken care of that
freeze-up problem?"
"I dare say," Leitrim laughed. "I feel so good with you,
Marcie. Thank you."
"When I saw you strolling through the festival last weekend,
and you walked up to my booth, I said to myself, Now there's a
gorgeous little butch I wouldn't mind waking up next to."
Leitrim chuckled. "Did you really?"
"Mm-hm. And when I noticed you were staring at my, er,
'Bristols', I thought I might even have a shot at you. You were
staring at them, weren't you?"
"Yes," Leitrim blushed. "They're magnificent. It's ... hard
for me to say these sorts of things out loud. But you're whole
body is ... mmmm ... you're so soft and sexy, Marcie, like a
giant marshmallow. You're my sweet, sexy, big, wonderful
Marshmallow. I could just bury myself in your body for weeks on
end." And to Marcie's delight, Leitrim once again began kissing,
fondling, and nibbling at her big breasts.
"Oh, honey, you're doing wonders for my self-image. And I
love the way you say my name: Mahcie." They giggled. "And I love
that big, dark bush of yours. It looks ... powerful."
They kissed for a long time, not the passionate burning kisses of
a few minutes before, but sweet, long, getting-to-know-you
kisses.
Eventually, Leitrim sat up. "Do you fancy a drink? A colleague
gave me a bottle of Glenaoiden whiskey for my birthday, and I've
been saving it for a special occasion. "
"I'd love some."
Leitrim fetched the bottle and two glasses from her kitchen. "I
do love the sight of you naked in my bed," she giggled, pleased
at her own boldness. She poured out two shots.
"To beginnings?" Leitrim proposed. "Or rebeginnings, when the
beginnings got off on the wrong foot." They sipped their
whiskey.
"To thawings out." Another swallow. "Whew, I'm starting to
feel the whiskey warming my toes already." She turned to Leitrim.
"Can I ask for something, honey? Something sexual?"
"Sure."
"Don't be shocked. But, could you fuck me?"
"Isn't that what we just did? Not that I'd mind doing it
again ..."
"No, I mean penetration. You don't have a problem with that,
do you? I know it's a political issue for some dykes, but I love
the feeling of fullness in my vagina, and I can come so hard that
way. I brought my dildo and harness along in my purse, and I
know you could make me feel sooo good with them."
"You brought your dildo with you?" Leitrim giggled. "Well,
well ... I guess you knew we'd end up in bed together. Marcie,
I'd love to do anything that would make you feel good. But, I've
never used one before. I'm really not very sexually experienced,
Marcie; I hope I don't disappoint you, love."
"Don't worry about that darling. I'm no sexual adventurer
either, eh? But I really do want to turn you on. And I want you
to turn me on. I mean, you turn me on already - but I want to
come for you like I've never come before, y'know."
Leitrim laughed. "You're so fucking wonderful, Marcie."
"You're wonderful. You make me feel sexy, Leitrim. I've
been alone for a long time. I'm overweight. I'm not young
anymore. My friends are all paired off. I'd given up hoping I'd
ever find somebody. And you could easily have any woman you
wanted, Leitrim."
"Ssh. I want you. That soft, curvy body of yours takes my
breath away. You're not overweight at all. And ... what you did
tonight, helping me thaw out, helping me get over that guilt and
punishment thing - well, that was the sweetest, tenderest thing
anybody's ever done for me. A lot of femmes aren't as patient
and understanding as you are, Marcie."
Marcie grinned. "You wait right here."
As Marcie rolled out of bed, Leitrim felt another wave of
lust, watching her lover's chunky, well-rounded body, undulating
as she strode out to the living room. Marcie returned with her
purse, and then pulled out a dildo, harness, and a tube of K-Y
jelly. As Marcie poured more whiskey, Leitrim figured out how to
strap the clear purple dildo snugly against her furry mound.
Marcie grinned lasciviously at the sight. "You're soooo sexy,
Leitrim. So sweet and shy and bold and sexy, all at the same
time."
"To purple plastic dildos!" Leitrim giggled, as they drained
their glasses.
"OK, enough preamble. C'mere honey; I'm gonna lube you up."
Marcie squeezed some K-Y jelly onto Leitrim's dildo and began
spreading it along the shaft, as though she were giving her lover
a handjob. Seeing and feeling Marcie manipulating this plastic
object - the base of which was secured by the harness, resting
slightly above Leitrim's clit - had a unexpectedly powerful
erotic effect on Leitrim, as though she could actually feel
Marcie's slick fingers sliding over her living flesh. Then
Marcie lay back, lifting her belly, parting her thick thighs
invitingly. She groaned and shuddered as Leitrim guided the
dildo into her, enfolding Leitrim in her arms and legs, helping
her lover find the right rhythm, her hands excitedly kneading
Leitrim's shapely bottom, and soon Marcie began her ascent of
Mount Climax. Leitrim loved the sensation of sliding in and out
of Marcie's cunt, seeing Marcie's big, soft breasts and belly
quivering as she pounded into her, hearing her lover's excited
cries, being able to kiss her lover's face, her eyelids, her
breasts, as she thrust inside her.
"Wait. Stop," Marcie murmured. Leitrim froze.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No, I just want to roll over on my tummy. Can you fuck me
from behind?"
"Sure, love."
"My tummy seems to be getting in the way a little. You'll be
able to go in deeper from behind." Marcie tucked a pillow under
her, and lay down on it, drawing her knees up beneath her,
presenting her immense bum and open, glistening cunt to Leitrim's
rapt gaze. Hmmm, this position afforded some very interesting
possibilities too.
"OK, yeah, slide into me slowly. Oooh, yesss ... grab my bum.
OK, give it to me, darling. Harder ... harder ... a little
faster, oh sweet Goddess ... just like that ... just like that
... "
"Marcie, you're so fucking sexy, I want you ... I want you ...
Christ, I love your big arse! Come for me love ..."
"Oh yeah, just like ... oh babe, I'm gonna come! Squeeze my
cheeks tighter. I'm coming for you. Oh, Leitrim, I'm coming
sooo biiig. Sooo, ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhhh Leitrimmmmm,
yesssssssssssss!"
Leitrim, to her delight, felt several gushes of Marcie's
warm ejaculates against her thighs.
"Oh, damn," Marcie panted as Leitrim pulled out of her, "I
should have put down towels. Now I've soaked your bed... ooh, oh
my ... oh Leitrim, my God, what are doing? Oh, God, that feels
so good!"
Leitrim, emboldened with lust, had plunged her face down on
Marcie's arse, slurping and licking up as much of the liquid as
she could get, before nuzzling her face into Marcie's cunt from
behind, searching for more of the nectar. Loving the sensation of
Leitrim's tongue in her vagina, Leitrim's nose against her anus,
and delighting in Leitrim's show of ardent, uninhibited desire,
Marcie soon came again, with another small spurt, bathing
Leitrim's cheeks, chin and neck with more of her juice.
"My girlfriend's a gusher," Leitrim sang teasingly. "A big
sexy marshmallow with a liquid centre."
"Sorry about the mess."
"Sssh." Leitrim kissed her, her face slick with Marcie's
juices. "Thank you for that. Don't be sorry."
They changed the sheets and put down towels, then took a shower
together, where Marcie brought Leitrim to another gratifying
orgasm. Marcie, wearing one of Leitrim's blankets, toga-style,
rooted through Leitrim's kitchen, and fried up a couple of eggs,
with some bread and butter, kippers, and a pot of strong tea for
the two hungry women.
"This is lovely. This is the kind of tea I used to have when I
was a girl. I thought Canadians didn't know about teatime."
"My gran was from England. We'd go over to her house for tea
every Saturday afternoon.
"Ah. So you know all about taking care of Brits like me."
"Precisely."
"Marcie, are you applying for a certain job."
"If there's an opening."
"Marcie, you don't have to apply, you've got the job already. I
thought that was understood: I'm in love with you. I want us to
be a couple. I want to live with you."
"Good. Just checking, dear."
* * *
"Leitrim, hey, wait up girl."
Leitrim, heading out of the university's humanities library, gave
a look behind her.
"Sandy, hello."
"I haven't heard from you in weeks. Where've you been?"
"Oh, I've been rather busy lately ..."
"You look terrific. You look like you've just gotten back from
holidays or something."
"No."
"Well, guess what. You know that babe that I saw at the Fraser
Park Arts Festival, at the henna tattoo booth? Turns out she's
doing a Ph.D. in psychology here, and she's a dyke. We've been
seeing a lot of each other the last couple of weeks, and it looks
serious. Her name's Frieda. I'm so excited, I've been dying to
tell you about her."
"That's fantastic Sandy. Say, why don't you two come over
for dinner sometime soon."
"You ... cook dinner? As in going into the kitchen and
preparing food?"
"Marcie's a marvellous cook."
"Marcie? Who's Marcie?"
"Come over for dinner tomorrow night and you'll find out.
* * *
END
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