Fuck ‘Em All!

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^^^June, 1972. In a nursing home outside of Philadelphia, PA^^^

“Oh, my God!”

Charles shouted those words when a woman unexpectedly bent over in front of him to pick something off the floor. She gave the eighteen-year-old a downblouse view of the largest breasts he’d ever seen. He stared at them with wide bulging eyes.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the young man’s face turned red and he regretted his outburst.

“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t believe I said that. I apologize, Ma’am. I shouldn’t have cried out, and I shouldn’t have looked.”

The chubby, thirty-something woman grinned and said, “It’s okay. It’s been a while since a man has reacted to me with such enthusiasm. I’ve put on some weight, and the girls have gotten pretty big. When I leaned over, they spilled out of my top. You’d have to be blind not to notice.”

^^^Earlier that morning^^^

Charles entered a nursing home run by the local church. He signed in at the desk and went to the wellness clinic.

“Hello,” he said to a woman at the desk, “I’m Charles, the new assistant for the visiting doctors. Today, I’m working with Dr. Harvey.”

“Hi, I’m Cindy,” she responded. “You’re the son of missionaries who live in China. I was told to expect you.”

“I lived there for ten years.”

“Your parents are still in China, and you’re back in the States to go to medical school?”

“Yes. I start college in September and, if all goes well, I’ll go to medical school after that.”

A short, bald man walked briskly into the room and said, “Ah, Charles, I see you’ve met our receptionist. Cindy, Charles will be helping the other doctors and me this summer. He’s getting some hands-on experience as well as a sampling of different disciplines.”

The two men went into the exam room. The podiatrist gave his new assistant a sheet of paper and said, “Here is a list of patients I’ll be seeing today and the scheduled procedure. Beside each name is their room number. Your job is to bring the patients to me and assist me.”

Charles nodded and glanced at the page.

The doctor said, “The residents have physical and cognitive limitations. Some have Alzheimer’s. Almost all of them have trouble hearing. Don’t assume you have the correct person because they are in the specified room or respond when you call out a name. Ask the staff. They will point out the right person.”

Charles nodded.

The bald man laughed and said, “There’s nothing magical about the list. If the first person isn’t dressed or hasn’t finished breakfast, bring me who is ready. I’ll see them in whatever order suits them.”

The eighteen-year-old left the room and got a patient. After the doctor saw her, he took her back to her room. He repeated the process.

By mid-morning, many of the residents were in the activity rooms.

Charles walked into the activity room on the third floor and saw a dozen people. Some were sleeping. Others watched a nature show on the television. Two women were folding towels. An overweight, middle-aged woman wearing a colorful uniform was watching over them.

Charles addressed her politely. “Hello. My name is Charles, and I’m getting patients for the foot doctor. He’s ready for Mrs. Schmidt; is she here?”

The attendant pointed to an old woman sitting in a chair and said, “That’s her in the pink blouse. We better put her in a wheelchair. She doesn’t walk well.” The big woman rose slowly as if standing took a great effort. She grabbed a wheelchair. Together, they got Mrs. Schmidt into it.

“Wait a second,” the older woman said breathily. “I need to put the foot pedals on. Otherwise, her feet will drag on the floor.”

She fetched the pedals and bent over at the hip to put one on the chair. Her scoop-neck top fell away from her chest and exposed her huge breasts.

Charles gasped loudly and stared wide-eyed at her boobs. The embarrassing words were out of his mouth before he realized that he’d said them.

“Oh, my God!”

He immediately blushed and apologized.

The chubby woman grinned sheepishly and said it was her fault. Charles studied her face and was relieved when it appeared that she wasn’t upset with him.


When the doctor went to lunch, Charles went to the employee dining room. He stood in line, got his meal, and went outside to a picnic table to eat in the shade of some large oak trees. It was a beautiful sunny warm June day.

He took a bite of his Reuben sandwich and heard a voice he recognized. It belonged to the aide whose bosom he’d seen. She came up to him and said, “I try to get out and enjoy the sunshine and fresh air whenever I can. May I join you?”

He nodded. She went to the other side of the table and put her tray down.

“My name is Betsy Summer.”

“I’m Charles Young.”

She sat, and they ate their sandwiches. She made a couple of attempts to talk to him. He responded with monosyllabic answers, and the conversation fizzled.

She chuckled and said, “You’re not much of a talker, are ya?”


“Are bonus veren siteler you being shy because of what happened earlier?”

Instead of answering, Charles’s face turned red.

She laughed and said, “Don’t worry about it. Dozens… no, probably hundreds of guys have seen my boobs. The best place to party around here is at the lake. When my girlfriends and I turned eighteen, we went there every chance we got and started what we called the ‘Boobs for Beers’ campaign. We’d flashed any guy willing to give us a six-pack.”

Charles’ face blanched with horror. Betsy noticed, laughed, and said, “Sorry, if I shocked you. We were young. Haven’t you ever done anything like that?”

Charles answered quickly, “No.” He looked aghast.

“Too bad. Sounds like you haven’t had enough fun in your life.” She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye and added, “For a second this morning, you made me feel eighteen again. Beautiful and desired. Revisiting those happier, carefree days was worth a moment of embarrassment.”

That broke the ice, and they had a nice conversation. Charles learned Betsy was thirty-six. She’d been married and divorced three times, and she had a child with each man. Her daughters were fifteen, twelve, and nine, and she called them Sissy, Boo, and Mouse.

Charles gave her a questioning look. The mother laughed and said, “They’re nicknames. Didn’t you ever have one?”

“Sometimes people call me Charley,” he offered.

She shook her head and, said “Sissy is the eldest. The others tried calling her sister, but it came out as sissy. My middle daughter loved to play peek-a-boo and insisted we call her Boo. My youngest was born small and has always been small for her age, so we call her Mouse.”

Her eyes teared up as she confessed, “My last husband broke my heart two years ago when he left me for a younger woman. I got depressed and ate to ease my pain. Now I’m in my mid-thirties, a struggling single mother, and forty pounds over my normal weight. As you can see, the majority of the weight went to my hips, butt, and boobs.”

Charles felt obligated to share. He told her that he was born in the States, and for the last ten years, he lived in rural China with his missionary parents, and he wanted to be a doctor like his father.

“Cool,” Betsy said. “What are some of the biggest differences between the United States and China?”

“For one thing, China is much poorer, or at least the part I was in. Our neighbors worked in a low-wage, state-run factory or were subsistence farmers. They were very conservative and family-oriented. The way American women dress, exposing their legs, midriffs, and cleavage, would shock the average Chinese person. The other thing that struck me when I got here is how many Americans are fat.”

His face turned red, and he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

She laughed. “I know I’m fat. Many of my countrymen are overweight too. You’re very fit,” she said, eyeing his toned body.

“I exercise, try to eat right, and apply the knowledge I’ve picked up from my father and my studies about the human body. Did you know there is a whole discipline called kinesiology that focuses on how the body moves? I’m fascinated by how our muscles and skeleton work together. Moving efficiently and painlessly can improve a person’s mood and self-confidence.”

“Can it help a person lose weight?”

“Sure. Movement is exercise, and we all know that burning calories helps a person lose weight. Misalignment or bad technique can interfere with a person’s ability to exercise, adding to their stress and contributing to emotional eating. With testing, we can identify problems and help with the process of losing weight.”

“I think we can help each other,” Betsy said. “Can I be blunt?”


“You aren’t very confident around women, are you? You have trouble looking me in the eye and talking to me. I’m guessing you’re even more ill at ease around girls your age?”

He grimaced and nodded.

“I can teach you how to approach and chat up a girl. Have you ever been on a date or kissed a girl?”

“No,” he replied sheepishly.

“I have an offer for you. How about I teach you how to get a girlfriend and in return, you help me lose weight. Deal?”

“Yeah…Sure. Deal!”

She smiled and said, “I get off work at three o’clock. What about you?”

“My afternoons are free to read, study, or whatever.”

“Meet me at the scale room on the second floor at three, and we’ll get started today.”


The denomination that ran the nursing home and supported his parents in China gave Charles the job of assisting the doctors and set him up in a tiny apartment in the basement of the nursing home. The little room had a twin bed, lamp, television, dresser, chair, and a desk. Attached was a small bathroom behind a curtain.

A little before three, he left his apartment and walked to the room that housed an electronic wheelchair-accessible platform scale.

Betsy bedava bahis joined him a few minutes later, red in the face from the brisk walk. “Sorry, I’m late. One of the residents spilled a drink and needed a clean shirt.”

She closed and locked the door, placed her handbag on the floor, and kicked off her shoes before she pulled her top over her head. She saw Charles fidget, and his face turned red. She smiled, pulled off the matching scrub pants, and said, “We both know how this goes. You need baseline info so you can track my progress. Weigh me and take my measurements.”

She unhooked her bra and shucked it off. Her freed breasts tumbled down to her stomach. “Whew. It feels good to get out of that contraption. Now I can breathe.”

Charles stared at her tits. They looked like droopy, over-filled water balloons, and her saucer-like areolas pointed to the ground.

She stepped onto the scale wearing a pair of granny panties. She read the scale and said, “165 pounds on my five-foot four-inch frame is the most I’ve ever weighed. I was 119 pounds when I graduated high school, and I wore a size 6 dress at my first wedding.”

She looked at him. He appeared mesmerized by her breasts. His face was flushed. She chuckled and said, “What? Never seen a pair of boobs before?”

“Ah. No. Well, not in the flesh,” he confessed.

“Measure me.”


“I’ve had friends who have been on weight loss programs, and the goal is to lose weight, become healthier, and get fit. In addition to being weighed, they had parts of their bodies measured, so the doctor knows when you’re reshaping your body and becoming more toned.”

“Sorry, you caught me off guard. I thought we’d talk about diet and exercise. I didn’t expect to see you topless and to need a tape measure. “

“Lucky for us, I’m a knitter,” she said. She went to her handbag and pulled out a tape and a small notebook. She handed both items to him, and he measured various parts of her body.

She snickered, lifted her tits, and said, “You’re supposed to measure under my breasts. Let me get them out of your way.”

He wrapped the tape around her ribs, blushing the whole time. When he finished, she released her breasts, and they jostled and quaked as they fell.

“You’re supposed to measure my boobs at the nipple. I don’t know how you can do that since my nips face the ground,” she said with a laugh.

“Ah. Ah,” he stammered before saying, “I think we have enough measurements.

She got dressed, and they went for a walk and talked.


Betsy began to make better choices about the things she ate. Monday through Friday after work, she and Charles met and exercised. They started slowly, mostly just walking.

They incorporated trips to the home’s exercise room to lift weights and use the machines as her stamina improved. During their walks, she schooled him. She taught him how to approach girls, engage them in a conversation, and understand how they think.

“You need to get past the fear, your anxiety, and nervousness,” she said. “You’re tall, smart, and attractive enough. You need to be confident, fun, and flirty.”

“I know, but I tense up and get tongue-tied around girls.”

“I’m giving you homework. I’m not asking you to talk to pretty teenage girls you don’t know. I want you to smile at, talk with, and compliment the women you already interact with. When you sign in in the morning, talk to Mrs. Randolph about the weather. ‘It looks like another beautiful, sunny day,’ or, ‘I hear it’s supposed to rain today.'”

He nodded.

“When you see Cindy at the wellness desk say something like, ‘Your hair looks nice today,’ or, ‘The color of your top looks good on you.'”

They both made progress. Betsy lost weight, but more importantly, the shape of her body changed. Charles learned he could look a woman in the eye and talk to her without freaking out or acting like an idiot.

They kept at it, and their workouts intensified.

On Monday, Betsy asked, “Did you go to the mall and talk with some girls?”

“Yes. I did as you suggested and asked simple questions like where a store was. No one slapped me or made fun of me. It went as you said it would. Some answered politely and went on their way. Others smiled and seemed willing to talk to me. I chatted with those.”

“Excellent. There’s no magical word or phrase that’ll make all women swoon. Some are not available, or you caught them at a bad time, or you’re not their type. It’s a numbers game. Our goal is to give you a chance. A baseball player can fail seven out of ten times and still make it to the Hall of Fame.”

Charles grinned and nodded.

They went for a jog. “I’m sweating like a whore at church,” Betsy said. She laughed and asked, “Can we swing by your place for a quick shower, and you can take my measurements there?”


They stopped at the employee’s locker room, Betsy grabbed her stuff, and they went to Charles’ basement apartment. She went into his bathroom deneme bonus area, stripped, and showered. She came out five minutes later with a towel wrapped around her. She dropped it and exposed her nude body.

“Not bad, huh?” she said proudly as she twirled for his inspection.

“Yes. You’re making great progress,” Charles answered.

Her body was becoming slimmer and firmer, and she had a more appealing silhouette.

His eyes focused on her furry brown bush, plump ass, and still large breasts, and he got an erection. He turned away from her and moved his cock to make it less noticeable in his running shorts.

Charles got out the tape, took her measurements, and wrote them down. He said, “The numbers are good. Getting better every week.”

“Yeah! I’m losing weight, looking, and feeling better! I can’t wait to tell my girls about my progress. Go take your shower,” she said.

He responded, “You should be proud of yourself. You’ve worked hard. Go home and tell your family.” Charles stepped into the bathroom, undressed, and washed. He returned to his room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh! I didn’t expect you to be here,” Charles said when he saw Betsy sitting on the edge of his bed in the nude. He averted his eyes.

“We’re both making good progress becoming the people we want to be. It’s time you moved to the next phase,” she said as she stepped to him, lifted his chin, and kissed him on the lips.

She tugged on Charles’ towel, and it fell to the floor. His dick rose to full staff as he stood there stiffly, in more ways than one.

She giggled and said, “You’ll have to kiss better than that.”

“I’ve never kissed a girl…a woman…sexually before.”

“It’s time you learned. Come, get on the bed with me.”

They lay on their sides, facing each other. Her soft breasts touched his chest, and his hard penis rested against her belly. She instructed him on the art of seduction and how to kiss and caress a woman. He stumbled, fumbled, and performed poorly.

She was patient, repeated her instructions, and let him kiss her lips, touch and suck on her boobs.

“Ohhh! Oh!” he cried out when he ejaculated on her abdomen. “Sorry!”

He tried to get up. She reached down, grabbed his pulsating dick, and jerked him off. “There, there,” she said gently as she milked his cock. “It’s okay.”

She held him until he lost his erection. She sat up, smiled, and said, “I’m going to clean up. We’ll do this again tomorrow.”

“I never expected we’d get physical.”

“I don’t do things half-assed. You’ll be girlfriend-ready when I’m done with you, and I expect to be wearing my size ten dresses by the end of the summer.”


The next week, Betsy and Charles worked out daily as usual. Each exercise session ended with a shower followed by kissing and heavy petting. On Friday, after a heavy workout, they showered separately and ended up in bed naked, fooling around.

“Ouch! Don’t squeeze my breasts so hard.”

“Sorry,” Charles said as his face turned red.

“I’ve been with enough men to know guys love boobs. We like men drooling over them, caressing and sucking on them, but you have to be gentle, very gentle. They’re very soft, right?”


“Remember they’re as delicate and sensitive as they are soft.” She chuckled and added, “If you ever want a girl to let you play with them, you’d better learn how to treat them tenderly. Try again.”

Betsy lay on her back, and Charles lay beside her. He carefully and lightly touched her breasts. He leaned down, placed the tip of his tongue on her right areola, and moved it in a circle.

“Mmmm. Nice. Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

Charles continued his gentle efforts on her other breast.

“Oh!” Betsy moaned as she ran her fingers through his black hair and pulled his head to her bosom.

Her musky fragrance wafted into the air and reached Charles’s nostrils. He followed the intriguing scent and put his head in her hairy pussy. He sniffed, nuzzled her labia, and licked her vagina.

“Oh! Good boy! Lick my pussy!”

Charles went to town. Like a pig searching for a truffle, he rooted around in her pubic hair until he found the source of her nectar.

“Oh, yes! You’re a natural. Born to eat snatch.”

Charles plunged his tongue into her cunt, and dug out the thick, slick, musky fluid. He feasted on her feminine flesh unrelentingly. She gushed; he swallowed.

“Oh, baby. Oh, baby. Oh! Ohhhh!”

She cried out and came on his tongue. She thrust her hips against his face giving him a fat lip. Her body spasmed, and she turned away from him.

“Wow!” Charles exclaimed.

He rolled onto his back, stroked his throbbed dick, and looked at Betsy. She laid on her side, and he saw her plump, pale ass. It beckoned him. He spooned his exercise partner, grabbed his aching cock, and slipped it in between her thighs just below her ass.

He arched his back, and as natural as water flowing downhill, his penis slid into her vagina. “Wow,” he called out again.

“Oh? Oh! We’re going all the way?” Betsy asked and giggled.

“Yes. We are,” Charles said in a confident, commanding voice. He fucked her for all he was worth which wasn’t very much. He quickly blew his load inside her.

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