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Subject: "Dysfunctional" (Part 1) by Rod Stiffener (mf,voy,preg)
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  Archive name: fun1.txt (mf,voy,preg)
  Authors name: rodsti@hotmail.com (Rod Stiffener)
  Story title : PUTTING THE "FUN" INTO "DYSFUNCTIONAL"
  PART ONE OF TWO

                ==          ==         ==
 This work is copyrighted to the author. No changes may
 be made to this story, and the author information must
 remain intact. This work may be copied freely for non-
 profit purposes only.
                ==          ==         ==

  *********************************************
  
  PUTTING THE "FUN" INTO "DYSFUNCTIONAL"
  PART ONE
  *********************************************
  
  Jake had only been in town for a couple of months. A
  bit of a loner, he had been drifting around picking
  up work where he could get it.  But now that he was
  on trial at the machine shop, he had some steady
  income and could think about putting down a few
  roots again.  Very different from working in
  trucking.  And he could start accumulating the
  wherewithall to get another Harley, to replace the
  one lost to bike thieves the previous year. No more
  Sidewalk Commando status for him.
  
  Through the machine shop he had met a few kindred
  spirits.  Customers who had brought in heads for
  porting work, cylinders for re-boring, and when he
  saw Harley parts come across the counter it was like
  the memory of his own lost cycle was haunting him. 
  He would go the extra mile for those customers, and
  soon it was being suggested that he should come
  and hang out, roll some numbers, blast the cobwebs
  out of the stereo system.  
  
  They went on runs, too. Not wearing colors, nothing
  like that.  Too much aggravation, you have to be
  prepared to put your life on the line if you start
  wearing colors.  But they got a buzz out of going
  places in groups, just for the sheer thrill of riding. 
  Jake would excuse himself from going on any runs,
  though.  He wasn't going to pack double behind
  anyone.  Getting back on his own two wheels was a
  matter of pride to him.  Sometimes, though, he
  would follow along later in his tintop, to bring a
  keg of beer and pick up any parts that might have
  vibrated loose on the way.
  
  He was a man of few words, and difficult to get to
  know.  But his machining skills made him worth
  knowing, to people who rode the older iron and who
  thought the newer Harleys were fit only for effeminate 
  stock-brokers.  
  
  Soon he was part of a circle of down-to-earth people,
  the kind who wouldn't hesitate to call a spade a fucking 
  spade.  Educated mainly in the University of Hard Knocks, 
  they looked forward to Saturday morning rides and
  Saturday night rages, taking pride in an ability to party
  all night and still be able to function at work the next
  day. Monica-gate did not bother them at all; to their
  mind, frequent blowjobs should be an integral part of any
  Presidency.
  
  Jake ended up on best terms with Steve, Frank, John,
  Paul, and their ladies who they changed like library
  books.  Except that Paul and Sharon were now an item.
  
  In fact Sharon was about six months pregnant, and
  quite large with it.  She was quite large anyway, being
  very broad across the hips with big buttocks and upper
  legs.  Real thunderthighs, complete with cellulite. He
  wouldn't call her obese though, in the sense of fat all
  over.  More like "pear-shaped", since her upper half was
  of normal proportions.  If she were to be described as
  having an hourglass figure, then you needed to imagine
  a pretty bottom-heavy glass.  She also had magnificent
  boobs that hung fairly low.  
  
  Jake had made these observations during some
  riverside barbecues they'd held when the weather was
  fine.  Her bathing costume struggled to keep everything
  in.  Especially now that her belly was distended, and
  her breasts had become larger than normal.  She had a
  lovely complexion; pale, white and generally pretty
  flawless skin. She had a nose a bit too big for her face,
  and full, pouty lips. The type of lips that someone once
  referred to as "cock-sucking lips".  He often found
  himself attracted to women who were not the usual
  fashion stereotype, especially if they had nice a
  complexion and nice breasts.  On the other hand,
  Barbie-dolls and Miss Universe types didn't do a lot for
  him.  Too unreal, he thought.  He liked "real" women. 
  Or did he just lack ambition?
  
  Her partner Paul was a little shrimp of a guy who acted
  big, probably because he had a complex about being
  small. He maintained a tough-guy image, with black leather 
  waist-coat and long beard trimmed to make him look like a 
  chip off the ZZ Topp. An okay guy, but with a harder edge 
  to him than others with less to prove.  
  
  And Sharon needed a bit of watching, as she didn't
  mind attention from other men.  Not just flashing her
  tits at truckers while on the highway either.  That was
  just par for the course.  In all her interactions with
  men, she always seemed conscious of the fact that they
  were MEN.  Flirty remarks, sexual innuendo, saying
  things like "Thank you hairy crutch" if a door were
  opened for her.  If no one were paying her any
  attention, then she would encourage some attention. It
  was as if she didn't feel valid as a woman unless there
  were always some bees buzzing around her honeypot. 
  
  Being the new boy in town and conscious that he
  should mind his manners, Jake would normally have
  just noted in passing that Sharon was attractive and
  left it at that. But she had this air of sweetness and
  vulnerability that tugged at him somehow.  And she
  always managed to convey the impression to all men
  that she was one women with a very positive attitude
  toward fucking.  Just how positive could she get, Jake
  couldn't help wondering?
  
  And Paul was not around for some reason, on the day
  that Steve celebrated his birthday.  The others all
  decided to have a night on the town. Sharon was
  especially looking forward to it because she had not
  been out on her own for a while, and Paul was strict
  on her about not drinking or smoking marijuana while
  pregnant.  
  
  Which makes sense, and she would probably have been
  all for it if he would only support her by abstaining
  himself.  But why should she be a martyr while he was
  still having a good time?  At times the rights of her
  unborn child would take second place to her one-up-
  manship with Paul.
  
  Jake's beat-up Chevy V-8 was having triple bypass
  surgery that week, so Sharon gave him a lift in her VW
  Beetle, painted a delicate shade of "nipple pink". The
  others all piled into Steve's car, so as to keep the
  amount of drink-drive convictions to a minimum.  They
  started at a bar, drinking bourbon except Sharon who
  stayed on orange juice.  She couldn't help joining in,
  though, when they went out to the alley to roll up a
  couple of numbers.  She was as keen as anyone to
  dangle off the end of a spliff or three while planning
  the next move. 
  
  After an hour or two spent "warming up" at the bar,
  they went on to a night club.  Sharon turned a few
  heads when she got onto the dance floor with Jake,
  wearing a dark red velvet dress and carrying a stomach
  that  announced her arrival about three yards before
  she got there.  But she loved dancing and wanted to
  enjoy herself, so he thought, why not?  The others
  stayed at the bar, while Steve found someone he fancied
  and started navigating her around the dancefloor.  So
  Jake mostly danced with Sharon but not always. 
  Another guy parked himself on the barstool next to hers
  and started chatting away with her.  
  
  He was a travelling business type from out of town and
  didn't know anyone, so was willing to strike up a
  conversation with anybody.  It was clear they were
  getting on like a house on fire, animated conversation
  followed by the odd slow dance out on the floor.  It was
  just in Sharon's line, to have two guys fluttering around
  her like moths.  The business type and Jake alternated
  the dancing duties, and next thing they all knew, she
  had a glass of bourbon in her hand.  This guy was
  buying her drinks for her, and at those expensive
  nightclub prices, she was too flattered to refuse. Paul's
  strictures about abstinence were going out the window
  tonight, as she was already a bit stoned from the joints
  smoked earlier.  
  
  The guy seemed to fancy her a bit, despite her obvious
  condition, and they were dancing kind of close.  At
  least, as close as her huge belly would allow. His groin
  was bumping right up against it as they danced.  Her
  belly had been bumping up against Jake's groin as well,
  especially on the slower numbers when couples get to
  go into a clinch.  If he had looked down, he would have
  seen a milky-white cleavage thrust up by a bra that was
  now a size too small, framed by the red velvet v-neck of
  her dress.  
  
  Friend's wife or not, that kind of thing is instant hard-
  on material, and in her condition any hard-on would be
  unavoidably pressed against her navel.  So Jake kept his
  gaze fixed over her shoulder and silently said "Down,
  boy!" to his stirring dick. When this other chap danced
  with her, he took no such precautions.  Jake could see
  him glancing down at her boobs from time to time, and
  she knew it but was enjoying the attention.  Jake saw
  no harm in it.  He supposed that she liked to feel
  attractive, and not just be treated like the Goodyear
  blimp.  
  
  After they'd been there about two hours Steve decided
  he was going to leave with his new-found friend, so
  that they could get to know each other better.  This
  broke up the party somewhat, as he was the reason for
  coming out in the first place.  The others went and
  caught a cab, to go home and give the stereo some
  exercise while they mellowed out. But Sharon told Jake
  that she wanted to stay and dance a bit longer. So the
  two of them went back out onto the floor. The friendly
  stranger had also gone, so it was now a party of two.
  
  They were both on a high by now, from the bourbon
  and the dope.  Her hand went around his back to pull
  him closer, so his crutch was constantly rubbing
  against her taut, distended belly. It felt good to be
  gliding over the dancefloor to those smoochy numbers
  the DJ's always put on in the later part of the evening. 
  Jake had one of her hands held in his, and every so
  often she would give it a squeeze.  
  
  His other hand was resting on her hip.  Any time that
  it moved slightly, it would slide the velvet of her
  dress up and down over her bare skin.  Looking down,
  he could see her eyes were closed, and she was just
  going with the flow of wherever he steered her.  Her
  ample cleavage was truly a vision of loveliness, and
  his half-erect cock would twitch every so often at
  the sight. Pressed hard against her, there was no way
  that she couldn't have felt it stirring into life.
  
  They hadn't yet really crossed the line of improper
  behaviour.  Sure, his semi-hardon was jammed up
  against her, but what could he do?  It was unavoidable,
  really.  He was sure she would understand his
  predicament.  Don't know if Paul would be so
  understanding, though ... .  
  
  The line began to be crossed at the moment when she
  started to swing her hips in time to the music, so that
  her belly was brushing back and forth against his cock. 
  This got it to almost full hardness.  If he moved away,
  she pulled him back again.  It appeared that she was
  deliberately trying to give him a hard-on.  She had also
  leaned forward so that her head was almost resting on
  his shoulder, and the change in body angle meant that
  his hand had now slid around onto one of her massive
  buttocks.  The rotation of her hips meant that his palm
  was slipping the velvet material back and forth across
  her backside, in little motions on a bodypart which
  experience taught him was definitely an erogenous
  zone.  
  
  They were now about as closely intertwined as it is
  possible to be with a heavily pregnant woman in a
  public place.  It looked like she intended to break some
  vows that no man is supposed to put asunder.  But it
  felt so good to be holding her that he did not want to
  pull away.  The fact that she was pregnant was neither
  a turn-on nor a turn-off, in fact it was pretty irrelevant
  at that stage.  She just wanted to be held, and he was
  happy to hold her.
  
  Jake was a fellow who always cultivated a gruff
  exterior, as did most of the males of his social
  background.  It made him a better poker player, but 
  didn't mean that he was a totally unfeeling swine.  Her
  air of innocence and vulnerability was getting to him,
  and from what he knew of their relationship he tended
  to side with her over Paul.  A stupid, dangerous thing
  to do, but he felt drawn to her and was starting to get 
  protective of her.  Not to mention aroused.  Down boy,
  dammit!
  
  Finally he said. "It's time we went."  Well, if he hadn't
  said that, the sweep-up people would have found them
  still there in the morning!
  
  She said "Okay," and hand-in-hand they headed for the
  exit.
  
  There was no conversation between them as she drove
  the VW Beetle homewards, except once when suddenly,
  out of nowhere, she said, "I've always liked big guys."
  
  He knew at once that this was an invitation to go and 
  view her etchings.  It was a clear reference to the fact
  that he stood at 6'1" and 220 lb, while Paul was a runty
  5'5" and 130 lb.
  
  But apart from that one simple statement about
  preferred male physique, she said nothing else and
  neither did he.  It was just assumed by both of them
  that they were headed back to her place.
  
  They pulled up in the drive and headed toward the
  darkened house.  She waddled in front of him up the
  steps, pulling her housekey out of her bag.  Inside, she
  turned on a single light for the hall and went straight
  down to the bedroom.  Her bedroom ... and Paul's too. 
  Jake could see a wedding photo in a frame, and a photo
  of the two of them seated on Paul's Harley.
  
  She stopped and turned, lit up only by the light from
  the hallway, and stood waiting.  He walked slowly in, 
  head spinning with thoughts of guilt, tenderness ... and
  horniness.  If there is one thing he can't seem to resist,
  it is being wanted.  It seems so ungentlemanly to refuse
  a lady.  Despite the danger of big time consequences if
  Paul ever found out, he knew that the moment they
  kissed he would be lost.
  
  And so it proved.  Those "cock-sucking" lips were warm
  and full, and swiftly enveloped his protruding tongue. 
  Her belly was once more rubbing on his crutch, while
  he put one hand on her bum again and brought the
  other up onto her breasts.  They were big and heavy,
  and even with the support of a bra they hung very low. 
  The nipples were huge, and could be easily felt through
  the layers of material.  He glided his thumb back and
  forth over one, and after a few moments felt it stiffen
  even more.
  
  Her mouth was open to his, soft lips crushed against
  him and tongues swirling around each other.  One of
  her hands came up and she brushed a fingernail over
  his nipple through the shirt material.  God, he loved it
  when his nipples were being played with!  There must
  be nerves running from each one straight down to his
  cock.  
  
  His hand on her backside tugged at the velvet material
  until the hem had come up and he could reach into the
  waistband of her panties.  Her wobbly arse cheeks were
  colossal, and soft like grabbing a handful of
  featherdown pillow.  He stroked the bare skin around
  her butt-crack, in the sensitive area by her anus.
  
  Time to see her naked.  He always enjoyed undressing a
  women, and liked to take his time to reveal everything
  bit by bit.  First he stood behind her and unzipped her
  at the back, then slid that dress up over her head.  This
  brought into view sensible cotton panties that were
  dwarfed by the size of her arse into looking more like a
  g-string.  There was seemingly acres of milky white
  cellulite-dimpled flesh around her bum and thighs. 
  Then he revealed her sturdy bra with its row of hooks,
  straps cutting into her sides under the weight they
  bore.  He left her there in her underwear while he
  dropped his pants and shirt, and freed his cock from
  his briefs. 
  
  He stood against her bum, with her buttocks pushed
  into his thighs and cock against the small of her back. 
  Reaching around, he played with a breast through the
  bra, running his hand over the thick material and
  feeling the heavy sponginess within.  The other hand
  made widening circles over the tight skin of her swollen
  stomach, round and tight as a drum.  He tried to reach
  around to her crotch but the stomach was too big and
  he could only reach the pussy hair at the top of her
  mound under the waistband of her panties.  Jake's hips
  were thrusting his cock in little fucking movements
  against the billowy flesh of her buttocks.  She was
  leaning back into him with her eyes closed, savouring
  the sensation of the little touches he was giving her
  here and there.
  
  Jake unhooked the bra and slid it forward until it fell
  away from her breasts.  He took their weight in his
  cupped hands and looked down at them over her
  shoulder.  The hormonal changes of pregnancy had
  made the nipples enormous, almost twice the normal
  size.  The areolae had darkened into a deep reddish
  brown instead of the more usual pink.  Blue veins could
  be seen criss-crossing the pale white surface of the
  breasts themselves.   Absolutely delicious.  He just had
  to get his lips onto those!
  
  But next, the panties.  He knelt behind her and eased
  them down, having to tug them out from where they
  had ridden up into her arse crack.  He leaned forward
  and bit gently into the quaking arse flesh.  There was
  just so much of it!  He rubbed the palms of his hands
  excitedly over the huge buttocks, trying to cover as
  much of it as he could.  
  
  Still kneeling, Jake turned her around.  In the shadow
  of her over-hanging belly was soft brown pussy hair,
  but it was hard to see much.  He said "Lie on the bed"
  and she slowly made herself comfortable, packing a
  pillow behind her and putting her legs up into a wide-
  apart "childbirth" position.  This exposed her
  completely to his view.  The same hormonal changes
  had darkened her inner thigh area, and made the pussy
  lips very thick and rubbery-looking.  He had never seen
  a pussy quite like it.  The lips seemed to pout outwards
  and hold her vagina open.  So open, in fact, that it was
  possible to look partway up it.  Everything looked
  bigger than what he considered to be "normal".

Continued in part 2...


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