Okay! Let's face facts. I'd love to be slimmer! I know a lot of people feel that way; but, I've also faced the fact it ain't gonna to happen. I try to diet and it doesn't work. Because it doesn't work, I get depressed and I quit the diet. Now I'm even more depressed and then I start to eat all the things that aren't good for me. Of course, that makes the depression even worse. Don't get me wrong, it is not as if I'm some behemoth or something ... I'm just, well ... Rubenesque ... voluptuous ... pleasingly plump. However; I have between 15 and 20 pounds I'd love to lose! Get the picture?
Nevertheless, considering the extra pounds I carry, you would think the horn dogs with twangers would leave me the fuck alone! But NO! Seems like every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to take me down ecstasy alley; they think I will be an easy lay. I politely tell them no, and they keep pestering me. Moreover, you know, that really gets old after while. Like what part of NO can't they understand?
All right, time to get off the soapbox. By now, I hope you get the idea, I am comfortable with myself. Mostly I feel good about my weight and I do enjoy being a woman. I like myself. I feel all in all I'm a happy, well-adjusted woman. I'm just the short side of 5'9" with long wavy black hair and big brown eyes. I've been told I'm attractive and as far as the age thing goes I became untrustworthy two years ago, (that means I'm over 30). Height/weight charts say I should be somewhere between 130 to 150 pounds and I'm at 150.
I have what is called "peaches & cream" skin and I have a waist and there are bumps and round parts where I'm supposed to have round parts. Part of my weight seems to be in my breasts as they are sized 36 DD; that and because my nipples get really hard, really large, really quickly, brings me a bit more attention then I would like at times. My bottom is also well shaped and a lot of men do stare at me.
A few months ago, I met a man two years older than me whom I've been seeing. Steve is cute with a great sense of humor, most of the time. We started having sex after about the third or fourth date and I keep waiting for him to get a clue. I know so far I really sound like a bitch, but is it really too much to expect when we have sex for me to get something out of it too ... besides getting more horny? Steve seems to think just 'cause the train is in the station, it's my fault I didn't get on. (Those were his words.) Well, to tell the truth, most of the time because the train is so small, I don't even know the train is in the station, let alone it was time to get on.
Outside of the bedroom, as I've said, Steve is a fun person to be with. We do interesting things and go interesting places. He seems to be reasonably intelligent, with an interesting sense of humor and he is a very handsome man. However, when it comes to understanding women and their needs in sexual matters, he just is clueless. We have had several conversations and all that happens is he gets pissed and stomps off with his little feelings all hurt.
He expects me to give him oral sex anytime he wants, but he has also told me that women smell "fishy" down there and he absolutely refuses to have oral sex with any woman. One time we were in a hot tub together and he played with me for quite some time. When we got out, I asked him to eat me ... figuring I was as clean as it was going to get, but he still refused. Needless to say his little "Jonny" hasn't been sucked on by me ever since.
One evening we'd been to dinner and clubbing for a while when we returned to my place. Since Steve still lives with his parents, (he wants to save up money to buy a house), we have sex at my place all the time. Usually there is some foreplay before we get down to his "train in the station" routine, but this time he wanted his train in the station as soon as we were naked. He pushed me down on the bed and was poking around with his pecker. A couple of times I asked him to stop since I was still rather dry and his entry was painful. By the time I could tell him a third time to stop, he'd already climaxed. For some reason, for me, that was the last straw. I got out of bed, whipped the top sheet off of him and pointed at the front door as I told him to get out.
"Come here baby ... I'll make it good for you..." and he reached out his hand for me.
I had my hands on my hips, pissed at his attitude and the way he had just used me. "Are you willing to eat me to make it up?"
He screwed up his face and shook his head as he told me, "Fuck no; you know how I feel about that. But you can come give me a little suck and help me get it hard so I can help you cum."
That was the last straw. Mr. Steve was history. "Get out!" I screamed.
"Don't fucking give me 'but baby'. Get out. Sex is not a one-way street. I have had it with your selfish ways ... now get out."
Steve got up and tried to put his arms around me. "Come here baby ... I'm sorry."
As he put his arms around me, he tried to fondle one of my breasts. I pulled away from him as I told him, "Get out. Keep your hands off me and get out!" Steve reached out and grabbed my arm and as he spun me back to face him he pulled his hand back and before I could react he slapped me across the face. It knocked me to the ground. Sobbing I crawled over and picked up his clothes. After I was standing I threw them at him and quickly ducked into the bathroom before he could hit me again, making sure he heard me lock the door behind myself.
Steve started to apologize. He told me he was really sorry. He said he didn't mean to hit me and that it was an accident. He kept saying how sorry he was that he'd hit me and promised me it would never happen again. I thought to myself, "You can bet on that buster!" He tried one more time knocking at the door, continuing to beg me to forgive him and please open the door. I told him if he didn't leave at once I would start to scream until the police showed up. It was quiet for a few minutes and then I heard the front door open. I heard him scream back into the apartment, "I'm leaving cunt ... and I am not coming back ... never! So fuck you, you fat bitch." The door slammed.
I came out of the bathroom and threw myself on my bed, sobbing. I was so tired of his abuse. I was tired of being horny after we had sex. I was just tired of trying so hard to make the relationship work. As far as I was concerned at that moment, men were pigs. I hated anything with a cock.
As I lay there sobbing on my bed, I heard a soft knock at the front door. Thinking it was ass-hole Steve coming back for some reason I went to the door and shouted out, "Go away. What part of 'I never want to see you again' don't you understand?"
Again there was a gentle knock at the door, but this time a female voice spoke back to me, "I'm not who you think I am. My name is Alice and I live next door. Please open the door."
I thought about opening the door and I was so upset with the evening I didn't even realize I was still naked. Finally I opened the door a crack and saw a woman whom I judged to be a couple of years older than myself. "May I come in please?" She asked.
"Why?" I softly asked.
"I heard what just happened and I wanted to make sure you were OK. Please let me come in for a moment."
"I'm okay. Please go away."
"No. Please let me come in. I can see your face. Just let me come in for a moment so I can see if you are really alright. I'll just stay a moment and then leave. I promise." I stepped back and let her step into my apartment. As she came through the door, she stopped for a second and I was surprised at the way she looked at me; and at that moment I realized I was still naked. I quickly excused myself and ran to the bedroom to get something to cover myself. I didn't want to take the time to get dressed so I just picked up a sheet off the floor where I had thrown it when I uncovered Steve. I wrapped my self in the sheet and returned to the front room. As I entered the room I apologized for my previous lack of attire when I answered the door. The woman gave me a little grin and remarked, "Not to worry dear, actually I loved the outfit." And she winked at me.
I didn't know what to make of her comment and I stared at her. Her return smile was so warm and comforting and something about her made me feel totally safe having her in the room. "I'm sorry you overheard what just happened." I offered.
"If you don't mind, can you tell me what did just happen?"
I motioned for her to sit and I sat in the big easy chair. I looked at this woman for a moment, wondering why she bothered coming over. She was taller than I was, and had very long blond hair, which was piled, carelessly onto the top of her head. Her eyes were an interesting shade of green and she was a big woman, not fat, but just big all over; taller than I am and more statuesque. As I looked her over, the term "Earth Mother" seemed to come to mind. If it had been the '60's, she would have been considered a hippy. Due to her size and how lovely her face was, she was a very striking woman.
I considered her question and finally I answered her question with one of my own, "Why do you want to know? Why would you be so interested in what happed to me? I'm just a stranger?"
"As I said, my name is Alice," She paused and smiled before she continued, "Alice Kaplan. Actually it's Dr. Alice Kaplan. I teach Physiology at the university and I'm very active with the battered woman's clinic and the way the guy left here, I was worried you might be hurt." Her smile was warming and I don't know why, but I stared to cry again.
.... There is more of this story ...