Poppie’s Filthy Neighbor Revenge
When the Stick-Figure Bitch’s Husband Came Knocking
Darlings, gather ‘round while your favorite vintage pin-up BBW spills the tea… and the cream. This one’s pure no-limits nastiness, told just the way it happened, through my own painted eyes. Pull up a chair, light a cigarette, and let’s get filthy.
✦ Screenplay-Style Scene ✦
INT. POPPIE’S KITCHEN – LATE AFTERNOON
Sunlight slices through the lace curtains, catching the soft rolls of my belly and the heavy sway of my breasts as I pour myself a glass of something strong. I’m in nothing but a sheer pink babydoll that barely covers the goods, stockings rolled down to my knees, lipstick already a little smeared from earlier daydreams.
POPPIE (V.O.)
That skinny witch next door, Laura, had it comin’. Always lookin’ down her sharp little nose at me, callin’ me “that fat pin-up tramp.” Last week she leaned over the fence all smug and said, “My husband would never look twice at a woman built like a butterball. He likes ‘em slender. Not… you.”
Oh honey… challenge accepted.
I didn’t plan it. Not exactly. But when the doorbell rang that sticky summer afternoon and I opened it to find Laura’s husband standing there, tie loosened, eyes already locked on the deep valley between my tits… well, fate’s a filthy little bitch sometimes.
✦ Screenplay-Style Scene ✦
INT. POPPIE’S LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
He steps inside. The door clicks shut. I don’t bother covering up. My soft thighs brush together as I walk ahead of him, giving him the full view of that big, jiggling ass he’s been pretending not to stare at for months.
HUSBAND
(voice low, hungry)
Laura’s out for the afternoon. Said she was goin’ to some garden club nonsense. I… I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about what she said to you.
POPPIE
(turning, pressing my soft body right against his hard one)
And what did the little stick-figure have to say, sugar?
HUSBAND
That I’d never look at a fat woman. Jesus Christ, Poppie… look at you. That soft belly, those heavy tits, those thick thighs that could crush a man… Laura’s built like a goddamn broomstick. Flat as a board, cold as ice. She won’t even suck dick. Says it’s “eewwwyyyy.” Can you believe that? My own wife turns her nose up at a man’s cock.
I laughed, low and dirty, the way only a real woman can. Then I dropped to my knees right there on the living-room rug, yanking his belt open like I owned the damn thing. His cock sprang out, already rock-hard and leaking, and I wrapped both soft hands around it, stroking slow while I looked up at him through my lashes.
POPPIE
Poor baby. Married to a woman who thinks sucking cock is “eewwwyyyy.” Meanwhile I could swallow this whole thick thing and still ask for more. You wanna know what a real woman does with a cock like this?
I take him into my mouth in one long, wet slide, humming around the shaft while my tongue swirls. Spit runs down my chin. My heavy breasts swing free as I bob, one hand cupping his balls, the other reaching back to slap my own ass just so he can hear the meaty smack.
He groaned like a man who’d been starving for years. Hands buried in my hair, hips starting to rock. I let him fuck my throat until tears streaked my mascara, then pulled off with a filthy wet pop.
“Laura’s never gonna know how good this feels, is she?” I purred, standing up and bending over the arm of the couch, that big soft ass presented like a gift. “Go on, sugar. Tell me how boring she is while you ruin this fat pussy.”
He doesn’t need telling twice. Thick cock splits me open in one hard thrust. My soft body jiggles with every slam. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room. I’m already dripping down my thighs.
HUSBAND
(pounding deep, voice ragged)
Fuck… you’re so wet… so soft… Laura’s dry as dust. She just lies there. Never moans. Never begs. You’re takin’ every inch like you were made for it. Look at this ass bounce… Jesus, I’ve wanted to bury myself in this soft body for months.
POPPIE
(moaning, reaching back to spread myself wider)
That’s right, baby. Fuck the fat neighbor while your skinny bitch is off pretendin’ she’s better than me. Tell me how much better this soft pussy feels. Tell me how you’d rather come home to these tits every night.
He did. Oh, he did. He bent over my back, one hand reaching under to maul my heavy breasts, the other spanning my soft belly as he railed me harder, spitting filth about how Laura never let him near her ass, how she complained if he got too rough, how she’d never in a million years let him paint her face with cum the way I was about to beg for.
I came first, hard and loud, that big body shaking, juices soaking his balls. He pulled out, flipped me onto my back on the couch, and shoved right back in, folding me nearly in half so those soft thighs framed his face while he pounded me through another orgasm.
HUSBAND
Gonna fill this fat cunt up. Gonna send you back to your side of the fence dripping with me while Laura sits next door thinkin’ she’s won.
POPPIE
(grinning, legs locked around him)
Do it. Breed the neighbor your wife called fat. Make me your filthy little secret.
He buried himself to the hilt and unloaded deep, pulsing thick ropes inside me while I clenched and milks every drop. When he finally pulled out, a thick river of cum spilled down my soft ass crack onto the couch cushions.
I stayed there, legs open, showing him the mess he’d made, while he fixed his pants with shaking hands.
“Next time,” I whispered, voice pure velvet filth, “bring your wife’s favorite lipstick. I want her to see the shade on my tits after you’ve painted them.”
He left looking like a man who’d just tasted freedom… and pure, soft, no-limits sin.
And me? I sat there in the afterglow, fingers trailing through the cum still leaking out of me, already planning the next round. Because once a real woman shows a starved husband what he’s been missing… well, darlings, they always come back for more.
Feeling extra filthy after that story, sugar?