Club Belly
Even before the wheels of the C-130 Cargo plant touched the tarmac of Little Rock Air Force Base the all on board knew where there destination would be that night. After three months acting as a peace keeper on the Sinai Peninsula some rest and relaxation was in order, The department of Defence shared that sentiment and saved the crew a spot in the cargo hold of the huge plane.
Little Rock, Arkansas isn’t the first place one would pick to go on vacation, but they took what they could get. None of the soldiers returning from the mission in Egypt were particularly excited about there destination, but the crew, having been there on numerous occasions told them the fun that was to be had in the city. Being that they had to full weeks of leave at their disposal, they would have a blast.
The pilots told them about bars where the college girls went. The flight medic told them about night clubs the college girls went to to dance. The loadmasters told them about stipclubs the college girls danced at to pay tuition. A few officers on board settled among themselves to go across the Arkansas River to a little soulful place named club Prost.
That night the dark tall and slender Lieutenant James Lee prepped himself for his first taste of American civilization in what felt like years. He walked out of the officer quarters where his partners were waiting just as there ride was pulling up. They climbed into the car, and headed to club Prost. It was a Friday night and streets of downtown flowed more violently with people than the Arkansas river that ran parallel to it.
They walked into the gritty looking brick building. An oriental rug graced the floor beneath a wooden pool table. A DJ proceeded over the happenings controlling the atmosphere with music. Liquor flowed freely here and women were in no short supply, but then again men weren’t either. The men stood on the walls, played pool, and sipped from their cups appearing unconcerned. They understood it was a competition to be sexier, manlier, cooler, sophisticated, refined even more than any other man in in the room. That is if they wanted a women’s attention. While the women looked unconcerned with the matter, they did take notice, and were in competition of their own.
While James had the swagger that his military bearing afforded him, and the physique to complement it, he still wasn’t top dog in the room. That title went to the known hustlers in the room. The girls seemed to gravitate towards them. Dancing sensually amongst each other, not acknowledging the presence of the men whose attentions their bodies were demanding. He accepted that he would have his work cut out for him tonight until he caught a pair of eyes gazing towards him.
Across the room with the hustlers dancing with a her friends was a girl that was best described as fat. Her set on him again it was obviously no coincidence. She wore a jean shorts that exposed her massive jiggly thighs and hugged her more than ample butt. A tight black tank top that that was stretched by a large belly that protruded out in front of her, partially exposing her dark bronze tummy, the tramp stamp on her back. Her long black hair hung down attempting in vain to conceal the large hoop ear rings in her ear. All of this topped off by a red polo baseball cap.
The girl whispered to her friend and pointed towards him. The friend looked towards him smiled and giggled. He liked this opportunity. She seemed to have a group of friends that he and his friends could hang out with. Under the pounding beat, screaming rant of a rapper, and through the flashing lights, she looked at him again. This time he motioned her to meet him at the bar. She whispered something to her friend and obliged.
He stood at the bar when she approached he motioned for the bartender. “Get whatever you want” he told her. She approached the bar and casually placed her hand on his chest.
“blue motorcycle” she whispered to the bartender. She looked up to his eyes. “Thank you babe, whats yo name”.
“People call me Tye” he lied. “Whats your name?”.
“My name is Tierra” she said grabbing her drink as he paid the bartender. “But people call me Shunta”.
“Well its great to meet you Shunta” he said holding out his hand to shake her. She looked him in the eyes grabbing his hand. Instead of shaking it, she pulled him towards the dance floor. He followed without arguing. She lead him to a sidewall pushed him against it, turning around she began to grind on him. She was a heads length shorter than him but her massive butt was somehow high enough to reach his crotch. She casually sipped on her drink keeping him occupied with the soft feeling of her giant butt teasing his manhood.
Three songs went by, and to each she gyrated her hips to the beat. Throw her bottom back against him. As each song ended he expected her to walk away. Complain about being tired, and go back over with her friends. She wasn’t going any where she had pined him betw
Even before the wheels of the C-130 Cargo plant touched the tarmac of Little Rock Air Force Base the all on board knew where there destination would be that night. After three months acting as a peace keeper on the Sinai Peninsula some rest and relaxation was in order, The department of Defence shared that sentiment and saved the crew a spot in the cargo hold of the huge plane.
Little Rock, Arkansas isn’t the first place one would pick to go on vacation, but they took what they could get. None of the soldiers returning from the mission in Egypt were particularly excited about there destination, but the crew, having been there on numerous occasions told them the fun that was to be had in the city. Being that they had to full weeks of leave at their disposal, they would have a blast.
The pilots told them about bars where the college girls went. The flight medic told them about night clubs the college girls went to to dance. The loadmasters told them about stipclubs the college girls danced at to pay tuition. A few officers on board settled among themselves to go across the Arkansas River to a little soulful place named club Prost.
That night the dark tall and slender Lieutenant James Lee prepped himself for his first taste of American civilization in what felt like years. He walked out of the officer quarters where his partners were waiting just as there ride was pulling up. They climbed into the car, and headed to club Prost. It was a Friday night and streets of downtown flowed more violently with people than the Arkansas river that ran parallel to it.
They walked into the gritty looking brick building. An oriental rug graced the floor beneath a wooden pool table. A DJ proceeded over the happenings controlling the atmosphere with music. Liquor flowed freely here and women were in no short supply, but then again men weren’t either. The men stood on the walls, played pool, and sipped from their cups appearing unconcerned. They understood it was a competition to be sexier, manlier, cooler, sophisticated, refined even more than any other man in in the room. That is if they wanted a women’s attention. While the women looked unconcerned with the matter, they did take notice, and were in competition of their own.
While James had the swagger that his military bearing afforded him, and the physique to complement it, he still wasn’t top dog in the room. That title went to the known hustlers in the room. The girls seemed to gravitate towards them. Dancing sensually amongst each other, not acknowledging the presence of the men whose attentions their bodies were demanding. He accepted that he would have his work cut out for him tonight until he caught a pair of eyes gazing towards him.
Across the room with the hustlers dancing with a her friends was a girl that was best described as fat. Her set on him again it was obviously no coincidence. She wore a jean shorts that exposed her massive jiggly thighs and hugged her more than ample butt. A tight black tank top that that was stretched by a large belly that protruded out in front of her, partially exposing her dark bronze tummy, the tramp stamp on her back. Her long black hair hung down attempting in vain to conceal the large hoop ear rings in her ear. All of this topped off by a red polo baseball cap.
The girl whispered to her friend and pointed towards him. The friend looked towards him smiled and giggled. He liked this opportunity. She seemed to have a group of friends that he and his friends could hang out with. Under the pounding beat, screaming rant of a rapper, and through the flashing lights, she looked at him again. This time he motioned her to meet him at the bar. She whispered something to her friend and obliged.
He stood at the bar when she approached he motioned for the bartender. “Get whatever you want” he told her. She approached the bar and casually placed her hand on his chest.
“blue motorcycle” she whispered to the bartender. She looked up to his eyes. “Thank you babe, whats yo name”.
“People call me Tye” he lied. “Whats your name?”.
“My name is Tierra” she said grabbing her drink as he paid the bartender. “But people call me Shunta”.
“Well its great to meet you Shunta” he said holding out his hand to shake her. She looked him in the eyes grabbing his hand. Instead of shaking it, she pulled him towards the dance floor. He followed without arguing. She lead him to a sidewall pushed him against it, turning around she began to grind on him. She was a heads length shorter than him but her massive butt was somehow high enough to reach his crotch. She casually sipped on her drink keeping him occupied with the soft feeling of her giant butt teasing his manhood.
Three songs went by, and to each she gyrated her hips to the beat. Throw her bottom back against him. As each song ended he expected her to walk away. Complain about being tired, and go back over with her friends. She wasn’t going any where she had pined him betw
6 years