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Welcome to Thick Thighs, South Dakota

By Serif Tarkus

"Welcome to Thick Thighs, where the women have curves and the men pack heat!"

Every time I come back here, I see that same sign pulling in through I-90. It feels like some elaborate joke from some perverted town mayor. Slapped right in the middle of Long Schlong, Michigan and Milk Jug, Montana. But it's true, the women have the thickest curves this side of the Midwest. Thigh gaps be damned, you'd never see that here. If the women weren't sashaying with asses that quaked like jello, you knew they were from out of town. And men would be gawking at the sheer mass the women if it hadn't already been normalized for over a century.

. . .Maybe that was a bit of a lie. Not the women - no that's one hundred percent true - but it felt like sometimes there was an outlier they felt had to vanish. I should know. That was my hometown. Lived there for twenty-two years. Thick Thighs had an image to maintain, being a very. . . what should I say. Hetero? Yeah, It's straight as shit.

That's what made me, Sam Davidson, brown river otter with little to my name except that my parents moved here after getting married with only a modest income doing whatever odd jobs they could get. They were otherwise unknown to Thick Thighs. I wasn't much better. Even though I was born with the signature sheath and balls, though my physique surely questioned many a classmate's sexuality.

It wasn't good though, I'll tell you now. Have you ever stared into the eyes of a bull, red in the face after accusing you of, "tricking his dick," get ready to snap you in two just for having a fine ass? If Mr. Radtke, the school's only good teacher if you asked me, hadn't been out of his room to save me, I know for sure I would have been part of the concrete outside the school premises.

Stuff like that made it hard for me to make friends at all in my life. I was short, still being a mere five feet five inches to this day. My thighs flared out from my more than girlish hips like smooth hills. I was more than just a twink; I was absolutely stacked. My round ass looked globular to the rest of my body, jiggling nicely no matter how slowly I walked. My thick rudder tail helped compliment my figure in my opinion, being perfect for keeping my balance. This was me by the time I hit high school, mind you.

I say all this like I was proud of who I was, but it's hard to say that when no one else was. It's obvious looking back, kids being assholes is nothing new. But when the town motto is that the women have curves, it made sense why I was singled out as different.

There was one person though. It wasn't long, but I can still remember the face of Marcus. A fine, lean stallion for what it's worth, he had approached me one time during lunch to ask if he could sit with me. I was fourteen at the time, made shy by years of alienation. I didn't know what to say, so I just said sure and he sat down and then, well, things went their course. Being young teenagers, he was able to talk to me about what video games we were playing (we were both in the House of Sony, for anyone asking), and after that, he would hang out with me between classes. A couple of times he even went to my house. Man, the surprise on my mom's face when she saw me with another living being still lightens me up a bit today.

This was also the time where I started learning more about myself. Personally, like sexually, if you know what I mean. I never did research on when someone realizes they have the big homo, but it was here that I began to realize something about myself. Even though I actually liked being around women (though I never could for long, me being me.), I felt my gaze linger much more heavily on the boys.

It really struck me when Marcus came over for a movie night. You know those schlocky action flicks from the eighties? Not the good ones like Rambo or Mad Max, but the bad ones that came after only seeking to leech off the better ones? It was that type of marathon, and there was one movie in particular. I couldn't remember the name, but it was one of those cheap movies where all the "badass femme fatales" were somehow able to defeat the bad guys in little more than a bikini and some rags.

Marcus must have had the eyes of a horny eagle, because he could somehow point out every scene, every moment where some lady would let a nipple slip or some side boob would show. He really had the hots for the main lead, some femme fox that looked like she was taken out of Hugh Hefner's mansion. For all he was gushing for, I just gave a nonchalant shrug. While I could admire the women performing for their looks, I was more amused by the poor special effects and acting by any of the women themselves.

It was about four hours in though, that I made the worst mistake of my teenage career.

For some reason, my dumb ass thought maybe, just maybe I could make this work. I shuffled my butt a few inches to get closer to him, still distracted by whatever explosions I couldn't care less about. Then, without hesitation, I placed my head against his shoulder like some dumb couple. It sounds stupid to be ashamed of something like that, but to a teenager it might as well have been heresy against the highest order of God himself.

At first, he just looked at me strangely, but didn't pay all that attention to it. After a few minutes though, he shook me off, and I could still see the flush in his face. He prodded me on why I would act like that. I just shook my head, and we were quiet for the rest of the movie. Needless to say, he didn't stay for the rest of the night. We barely talked after that, and by the time we reached high school, we may as well have never been friends to begin with.

It was shortly after that when I reached my punk phase. That's right, the cringey shit. After losing the only friend I had, I just said fuck it, let's lean into my charm and see what happened. I was wearing one of those band shirts along with a black beanie and shorts that barely covered my ass when I caught that bull's attention. Never did the drugs though, despite all the encouragement those D.A.R.E. PSAs gave us. Instead, I had a pack of toothpicks I kept in my bag I would chew on in between classes. Along with the light purple makeup and a couple eye brow piercings, I made the transition to public outcast very well.

After eighteen grueling years of not knowing what to do with my life, my mind raced with all of my past mistakes. For a whole year I bounced around the idea of my own sexuality in my head. No matter what I did, people never talked to me. They said nothing good, sometimes bad, but it was nothing compared to the deafening quiet of being a shadow. I thought, what if I was never a guy to begin with, flirting with the idea that maybe I was a woman after all. I had a brief crossdressing stint, but it wasn't long until I decided who I was as a person. I knew I was attracted to men, but I still identified myself as one.

And that was what made the last four years of my time here in Thick Thighs absolutely miserable. No matter what I could do, I knew I would never fit in. I held a steady job working at the pizzeria, making pizzas in the back because everyone who saw me knew me for what I was. At least back there I didn't have to worry about any people seeing me, as they kept the back closed off well.

I decided to stay with my parents, helping them pay rent since it was already hard enough with them living there as is. I wasn't there much though, spending most of my time blasting Minutemen from my car speakers as I sat out in a grove a few miles out of town. For whatever reason, they were the band that resonated with me the most.

There was also this small underground club at the outskirts of town. It was called The Howlin' Wolf, I think because a guy by the same name had performed there, and so the name just stuck. The place didn't carry many visitors, but the energy was was oddly refreshing for a wallflower like me. I never danced much, but I liked to just stay at the bar area, just looking out at the others and think about what they were thinking.

It was here that I met him. He was from out of town, as I had never met him before that night. The man was a tall mountain of a blue dragon, with muscles that look like they could rip a man in two. No clothing could hide the massive pecs that man sported, and those large horns jutting from the back of his head like spikes surely made him an imposing figure. He noticed me sitting by myself and, probably feeling sorry for me, offered me a drink.

Seeing him come up to me without hesitation shocked me out of my usual stupor. Not knowing what to do, I was stammering while trying to come up with something to say. I could get off a, "sure," and such, but I was speechless when trying to come up with something nice to say back. I was a constant state of depression, and all of a sudden the studliest slab of dragon meat just falls right into my lap. What could I do!

Thankfully, he was also one to carry a conversation, and before long he had swept me off my feet and onto the dance floor. It was playing some electronic music, the names of which I lack the experience to tell you. But the energy coming from this man alone was enough to keep me going. The lights were a daze as I started feeling the bass vibrate through my chest. Before long I was chest to chest with the dragon, and I found myself caught in the moment.

It was an hour before he pulled me out, a smile wide across his face with a small sheen of sweat across his brow. I could only guess he was new to dancing as much as me. To be fair, I wasn't much better; stepping out into the cold shocked me with how drenched I was from being in that club. Thankfully my waterproof fur kept me from looking like a mess, instead giving me a shine like I was oiled up.

As we walked out from the club, the only source of light came from the soft shine from the street lamp and the cloud covered moon peeking overhead. He pointed towards his car, a nondescript black sedan parked across the road. It was when we walked there that he asked if I could stay with him at the hotel for the night.

It was here, folks. This was the moment I had been waiting for all my life. By some random act from God himself, I had found myself with someone who actually wanted me to be with them. Perhaps, I thought, I could even lose my virginity. I was twenty-two, and I knew none of my classmates were virgins by the time I graduated. Hearing this, I was all but lacking in grace as I rambled on how great it would be and maybe I could follow him behind. Before I could even finish, the dragon stopped me with a firm slap of my ass, sending shockwaves through my body as he beckoned me to just go in. Not wanting to disappoint, my lower half was still wobbling gently as I passed alongside to get into the passenger seat.

The hotel was only a few minutes ahead, so it wasn't long before we were in his hotel room. I excused myself to use the bathroom, if only to get a hold of myself so I didn't look like a fool. By the time I got out, my eyes bulged at the sight before me.

With nothing but a pair of black briefs creating a visible outline of his package, he had eased himself on the dingy hotel mattress in a way that gave me full view of his masculinity. His pecs were like two slabs of meat laid across a a brick wall of a man, with finely toned legs that created clear outlines of his musculature. Despite his briefs sort of covering his genitals, I could still clearly see the formation of two orange sized balls that bounced ever so slightly with each tap of his foot. His tail snaked around him off of the bed, flicking absentmindedly while he thumbed around on his phone.

Noticing me, he set his phone to the side and got up to meet me. I couldn't lie, my face was a pulsing red from the bulk of male facing. My clothes felt ready to just shed itself right then to meet this man. God, just thinking about it reminds me of the overwhelming male musk coming off this man.

He asked me if this was my first time, and he was actually surprised when I told him it was. Maybe it was flattery, but it did work in making me more comfortable. Grabbing the fur right above my rump, tingles swept through my body at every touch as he coasted his way down my bottom, only to ease back up the small of my back until I could feel every ounce of him across my body.

I couldn't take it anymore. Like some deprived beast, I forced him down onto the bed, giving me the more domineering position in the room. He must have expected that though, as his grin urged me even further. With surprising nimbleness, I started teasing the dragon as I undid each article of clothing I had. Soon enough, my strip tease me left me with my average size male parts on full display for the dragon, who gave a delighted whistle for my efforts.

I had slid off his briefs, revealing his massive foot long tool. Stuff like this I had only seen in pornos and read in smut, but it's a completely different experience seeing it firsthand. After some brief making out, I told him it was time to get down to business.

He was rather supportive in getting me through the motions. Cupping his balls in one hand, I started making soft strokes across his penis before breaking things off by slowly taking it in my mouth. Soon enough, I was able to get all twelve inches of his dick down my throat. Pretty impressive considering he was about as thick as a soda can. His musk flooded my nostrils, making me a hazy mess as suckled his dick like I was under a trance.

His dick was hard like an iron rod at this point. Shocking me awake, he gripped the back of my head, slamming me down with enough force to make me gag. I had to grip his lower body just to keep myself in position. I could feel his orgasm coming at any moment, his hands working like pistons to keep my mouth as a makeshift fleshlight.

Then, with a forceful grunt, I felt blast after thick blast of dragon seed splurge from his dick before setting down in my stomach. It didn't seem to end; minute after grueling minute was spent steadily nursing his dick while my stomach rounded out into a sizable paunch. However, he did finally slow down, and after pulling me off, surprised me with an extra coating of white across my face.

We played around much longer after that, taking turns pleasing each other like we had been separated from our bodies our entire lives. And for me, it may as well have been the truth. When I went down on that man, it wasn't just because I was a horny mess (Though that isn't to say I wasn't!), but all my life, I had never seen anyone give me the time of day to even appreciate me as I were. I didn't know if I had to change my life just to meet the needs of this world, or if there really wasn't any way for me to feel complete. As it turns out, sometimes you just have to meet that one person that sees that spark in you in order to make yourself feel whole again.

We talked long after the night was through. He was staying for a few days to get away from the bustle of city life. As it turns out, he was a writer, and wanted to get some inspiration by taking to the folks living in the many towns across the area. I gave him a tour of Thick Thighs, which is to say I took him away from town to show him the field I hung out at to get away from everyone. I shared him my love for the Minutemen, an act he didn't really know much about, but was happy to share his love for different music as well.

Maybe I should say why I was writing. It's been a couple of years since that night, and I'm glad to say that Terry, that blue dragon, and I have been together since then. I moved out from my parents, and I live with now in Sioux Falls, still working odd jobs while he pursues his own career. I still don't know what to do with my life as a mid twenty-something, but Terry suggested I pick up an instrument for a hobby.

It would make sense of me to say that I have Thick Thighs to blame for being a big mess up for so long. But I sometimes think of a specific Minutemen song, saying I am the truth, I am the cesspool. A lot of that is just blue collar folks venting their frustration, but as a frustrated person, I see this as validation. I speak for the truth of those against me that talk down to me like the cesspool, and I prove that I can take what they throw at me! But I never would have come to that realization on my own. Sometimes, you need someone to confirm it for you.

So, you know what? Welcome to Thick Thighs, where the women have the curves, and the men pack heat. And sometimes, the boys can be curvy too. I should know, I lived there.