Title: Eating Out of the Palm of My Hand
Featuring: Bobby Dean
Date: Sometime
Location: On a Nude Beach... Booooing!
Show: Victory XXXVII

Nude beaches…

I don’t much care where we’re going on this whole UTA World Tour thingy. Honestly, after looking at the list and not seeing Bangkok on it, I lost any and all interest. What the brass in the ole UTA don’t realize is Ladyboys LOVE wrestling.

Now, that’s not just some bullshit I’m pulling from my rectum, that’s a scientific fact! I did a study, an intensive study when I questioned about 100 ladyboys and not only did I ask them if they liked watching wrestling, I found out that they were all really good at wrestling!

Here’s a little side note, they were all much better than Amy Harrison, Sabrina Baker, and ole MVC, that’s for sure! I think it’s because they have bigger dicks that Harrison, Baker, and VC, but considering how uptight those hookers are, I cannot confirm 100%.

I’m digressing, I wasn’t originally going to talk about Ladyboys because people are beginning to typecast me, like it’s just a “Bobby Dean thing” or whatever. But you can’t type cast Bobby Dean, no sirree. I may be fat, I may be a lecherous older gentleman, but there are many, deeper, layers to this fat man that none of my opponents seem to understand.

For example, how many of you know that I’ve got a secret obsession with nude beaches?

I don’t see any hands raised, so I’m going to assume none of y’all knew that little tidbit.

Sadly, ladyboys don’t traverse the nude beaches as much as I’d like, so my pickings tend to slim down to just innies instead of outies. When Bobby Jean Dean informed me that our first stop was Rio de Janeiro, I was quite anxious. The weather was warm, the beaches were packed, and I paid a taxi driver a hundred bucks for info on one of the most exclusive nude beaches in Rio de Janeiro.

“Are you sure this is going to be a secluded beach?” I couldn’t help but ask, as the taxi driver looks at me with an evil smirk. “With lots of beautiful women?”

“Of course.” he replies, as he snatches the hundo out of my hand and quickly deposits it into his pocket. “Many, many, beautiful women, yes!”

I couldn’t get out of the taxi quick enough!


There is a slight problem with secluded beaches… You have to walk quite a lot to get to them! And apparently, getting naked in the parking lot on my way to the beach was a bit premature, at least, that’s what the father with three young girls said as they made their way to the public beach (which was in the opposite direction of the nude beach).


That’s the one word that kept flashing in my mind, over and over and over again.




All I wanted to see were some boobies, so I kept putting one foot in front of the other, following the trail as it criss and crossed and made me wanna Jump Jump.

Over a slight ridge I finally saw it!


There were a sea of women! I should say a sea of flesh, because just about every single woman was 300+ pounds! Now, I’m not a picky guy. I mean, look at me. Do I look picky!? So seeing a myriad of naked flesh rolls undulating like a wave of the ocean, well, let’s just say a certain part of my anatomy started drooling at the sight…

“YES!” I exclaim, leaping into the air like I was on the Mary Tyler Moore Show. “I’m in paradise!”

Fat girls and Ladyboys,

Chili dogs and ranch,

Doggies style and blowjobs,

These are just a few of my most favorite thing!

Sound of Music bitches…

Damn, now I got that stupid song stuck in my head.

Approaching the beach I can see that the ratio of men to women is vastly lopsided, in the ladies favor! I couldn’t believe it! I mean, normally when you think of a nude beach it’s the opposite, a whole lot of sausage and not a lot of taco. Walking through the lot of naked flesh , I couldn’t help but grin like it was christmas. Booby here, nipple there, bush there, pierced hood here, little pecker here, nice ankles there.

“Can I buy you a hotdog?” a rather large, and rather naked woman asks tentatively just as I was about to pass her by. Her offer causes me to give her a quick once over as she blushes. “I understand if you say no, I just thought you could be hungry in this heat.”

“Now why in the world would I want to eat a hotdog  with someone like…” I stop, giving it a quick thought as a devilish smile begins to emerge on my face. “You know what, on second thought, I’d love to eat a hotdog out of you.”

“Oh cool,” she pauses, mulling over my phrase, “Uhm, what do you mean?”

“What?” I ask clearly confused. “You’ve never had a guy eat a hotdog out of your snatch before?”

She shudders, either in delight or disgust, I’m not quite sure. Either way, she makes a hasty retreat, not once looking back.

“Weirdo.” I mutter at her departing back.

“Bobby Dean!” a person shouts out over my shoulder, rushing up to me with her flesh jiggling and moving even after she comes to a complete stop. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“You know me?” I can’t help but ask.

“Of course!” she says out of breath, either from the exertions of rushing over or she was star struck, I’m banking on the latter. “I love watching the UTA!”

“But how do you know me?” I can’t help but wonder, because according to Amy Harrison logic, a fan who watches UTA religiously shouldn’t have a fucking clue who we are.

“Duh!” she laughs, “How could I NOT know who the third best wrestler in the UTA is?”

I shake my head, getting rid of the asinine Harrison logic and get back to reality. This woman wasn’t bad looking, sure she was on the hefty side, but seriously a person’s weight doesn’t decide whether I want to slip her my salami. Plus, I remember the old lesson my best friend, Mikey Unlikely, gave me back in the day.

(DREAM SEQUENCE!!!!! Picture Bobby Dean waving his fingers up and moving his arms up and down ala Wayne’s World)

Mikey: Bobby, you know the difference between a fat chick and a skinny skank?

Bobby: A skinny chick is a cheaper date?

Mikey: Well, true, but not what I had in mind.

Bobby: Uhm, you can’t spin a fat chick on your dick?

Mikey: Also true, unless you have one of those fancy sex swings.

Bobby: No, (sigh) those have weight restrictions on them…

Mikey: They do?

Bobby: Yeah, I owe the Holiday Inn 1200 dollars to fix their ceiling.

Mikey shakes his head in wonder as Bobby frowns.

Mikey: Nevermind all that, and shut up. A skinny skank is all about her pleasure. She preened and primps and only cares about the outter beauty. Where as a fat chick skips all that nonsense and focuses on the important aspects of the relationships…

Bobby: (Interrupting) Like banana splits in bed?

Mikey: No, even better!

Bobby: (Looking shocked) NOTHING is better than banana splits in bed!

Mikey: How about blowjobs!?

Bobby: (clapping his hands gleefully) Oooooo! I LOVE blowjobs!


“Bobby? Uhm, heeellllooooo?” I’m pulled out of my daydream as the large woman in front of me waves her hand in front of my face, causing a nice reaction to her boobs.

“Oh I’m sorry.” I offer with a smile and a wink. “I was just reminded of a lesson my friend once taught me.”

“Oh?” she asks, at least I’m assuming she’s asking. You never can tell with a word like “Oh”, it depends solely on the inflection of the voice. “What was the lesson?”

“My friend told me that the great thing about large women is their dedication to a good blow job.” I deadpanned back, shrugging my shoulders as if I didn’t care if I offended her or not. Which was true. I didn’t care.

“He was definitely right about that.” she answers honestly, shrugging back at me, as if she didn’t care what I thought. Which was true, she didn’t. “But there’s more to us fat chicks than just BJs and butt sex.”

There is!?

“There IS!?” I couldn’t stop myself.

“Sure,” she answers smiling greedily at me. “We love chocolate!”

Maneuvering a fat flap is quite a bit of work. You have to get a firm grip around the base of the flap, and then shift to one side as quick as possible before I take my second hand and push the extra flesh that tries to fill the sudden void back to the side. Once I have the flesh suitably secured, I take one hand and remove a bag of M&Ms.

“Oh yummy!”

A group of women suddenly surround me, tongues whetting lips, hungry eyes locked onto my outstretched palm. I suddenly knew what the slab of beef at the Golden Corral must feel like. The girl I was talking to simply smiles and outstretches her arms in a “See what I mean” kind of gesture.

I rip open the bag with my teeth and tentatively spread out a few M&M’s in my open palm. With my hand shaking a tiny bit out of fear I hold out my hand as one of the women steps in and eats the chocolate candy with the hard shell directly out of my hand.

I had women eating out of the palm of my hand!


One after the other, just sprinkle a few M&M’s in my hand and suddenly another would step forward. The bag was completely gone in a matter of minutes as quite a few naked women walked away with satisfied looks on their faces.

“See,” the original woman says with a laugh. “Skinny women are too selfish to realize the finer things in life. They only care about looks, money, and status. So they get the guys who have washboard abs, big bank accounts, and egos the size of my ass.” It was quite a rotund posterior. “It’s all about what can you do for them, where as a fat chick just wants someone to pat their head and give them a treat every now and then.”

I nodded, not because she was right. Well, she was right, but she wasn’t just describing fat women, she was describing fat people in general. People like Amy Harrison treat fat people like they’re her playthings. The one thing she doesn’t realize is, there are a lot more of us than there are of her!

She thinks that I’m so anxious to get my beefy arms around her twig like body, that I should somehow be salivating at the chance to get in the ring with her. But the sad truth is, I couldn’t care less if I was in a match with her or not! Hell, I’d rather see my daughter Bobby Jean Dean in that ring, then waste my time on the little twig.

“What’s got you all ruffled up Bobbo?” the woman asks, sensing my sudden mood change.

“I can’t help but think that I’m wasting my time with women like Amy Harrison and Sabrina Baker.” I answer with a frown. “I mean, at least when I faced the Second Coming she could actually wrestle! But Harrison is a glorified stripper. She gets paid to shake her tits, bend over and rile the guys up, and she gets one victory and suddenly struts around as if she’s accomplished anything!”

“Wait, she won a match?” the lady asks doubtful.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” I answer honestly. “I’m just saying what I’ve heard through the halls.”

“You know what will cheer you up?” she suddenly asks, reaching towards her fat flap and maneuvering it aside.

“What?” I ask with rapturous attention to her hands and stomach, as she pulls out a bag of peanut M&M’s with a flourish. “Oh my god yes! I LOVE chocolate nuts in my mouth!”

“Hey, me too!” she answers with a grin. “How about we go back to your hotel and get some white chocolate nuts in my mouth?”

“They have white chocolate peanut M&M’s!?!?!” I about splooged in my pants, if I was wearing any. The mere thought of white chocolate M&M’s makes my mouth salivate.

“No, but you do…” she nudges me in the side, but when she sees that I still don’t get it, she casually reaches down and gently squeezes my sack.

“Ahhhh!” I say, still not really understanding. But hey, a woman asks you to go to your hotel and grabs a handful of your balls, you don’t really expect me to say no, do you?

Walking arm in arm with my new friend, I really should stop and ask her her name sometime soon… We’re suddenly stopped as a woman charges up to the two of us looking quite excited, and quite out of breath!

“I got the jumbo size weenies!” the woman from earlier shouts as she stands before me and my lady of the hour, a package of jumbo sized hot dogs in each hand holding them up for me to see.

“Huh?” I know, I know, smoooooth Bobby, real smooth.

“You know,” she says as if I’m retarded. “So you can eat them out of me!”

“Oooooh! That sounds like fun!” the woman on my arm exclaims happily.

“You know what,” I ask rhetorically.

“What?” the woman holding the dogs says to my rhetorical question.

“As much as I enjoy having women eat out of the palm of my hand, I much rather enjoy eating weenies out of their snatches!” I say with an evil cackle.

Arm in arm in arm, the three of us make our way out of the beach and towards the parking lot and then onto my awaiting hotel room. Amy Harrison wishes she could get guys to eat hotdogs out of her snatch!


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