The Fat Girl
Copyright© George Watersmann. All rights reserved. Reposting prohibited.
Chapter 7
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - George is the new boy in class. He's rich, smart, good looking and lives alone with his doctor-father in the grandest house in town. He could date any of the cool girls in senior year. How come, then, that he only wants to be with the fat girl from the run down part of town?
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual First Pregnancy Slow School
Fran's self-confidence steadily grew, and no more so than when it was discovered during Phys Ed - a subject she had otherwise hated and dreaded for years - that she was nearly as fit as the elite athletes. She had also finally started to really lose weight, not just building up muscle mass. Her BMI came in at 29.9, so while she was still overweight, she was officially no longer obese. "Thank you!" she whispered in my ear when she had told me. "You made it all possible. I couldn't have done it without you. There wouldn't have been a point."
I felt like I was on the top of the world. "I am so happy for you and for us. I love you and I so wanted this to happen for you," I said with a lump in my throat.
Fran looked at me, drew breath to say something, faltered, and then got it out. "I love you too. I think I have for a long time. I am learning to love myself; that takes a little longer..."
Did I say I was on top of the world before? Forget that. This was the top of the world. I resisted the urge to tell her how easy she was to love. She was finding her own way and I loved seeing that happening.
My birthday is in late November, and Dad let me have a big splash for my 18th on the day - a Saturday. The entire class and many additional friends were invited. For once we had food from caterers - simply because so many people were coming, but we arranged it ourselves and Layla - big surprise - promised to come over to help. She would bring her kids, and when Jake heard that he immediately volunteered to help too. That didn't go down well with Lorraine who exclaimed that she expected to taken there by Jake despite the fact that they both live within easy walking distance from me.
Remembering my debt of gratitude to Elisa, and finding out that she was in the same class as Bobby - who was otherwise going to feel rather left out in the company of much older kids, I had invited her to come. "I'd love to," she gushed when I asked her. "And Bobby is a really cute kid. Quite the nicest boy in my class. I like him a lot!" she added, turning quite pink. Bobby, already taller than me, massively built and one of the coming stars on the school Football team, would have been mortified to be called 'cute', but I let is pass.
"Super. That's settled then. Will you do me a favor?" I asked.
"Anything!" she replied eagerly. "What do you want me to do?"
"Well, I want Fran to look her best - it boosts her self-confidence," I said. "Would you be an absolute honey and take her shopping for a really nice dress and shoes and what-not? It would be a real help - and you can obviously buy stuff for yourself too."
Elisa looked gob-smacked and even more so when I handed her a thick wad of cash. "Make me proud of her," I said and turned to go.
"George!" she called and I turned around. "I'll make sure of it."
We didn't skip our Saturday training 'just for a party' as I put it, but made it slightly less strenuous. Through Denise I had gotten Layla to pick up Elisa and they all arrived in the early afternoon so we could get everything in order. A good hour before the guests were due to arrive, the girls excused themselves and withdrew to get changed and ready. With five minutes to go (apparently being punctual is a big thing round here - I like that!) the girls came down the main staircase to the hall, and Bobby, Jake and I were completely stunned.
They were dressed in identical outfits - very stylish cream dresses with an intricate system of strings - and wore medium high heels. They really looked stunning. It was actually a small miracle finding something that three such different girls - Denise petite, Elisa tall and gangly, Fran, well, voluptuous for want of a better word - would all look great in, but they'd done it. I was so proud I was fit to burst, and I am sure Jake and Bobby felt something similar.
"You're catching flies, boys," my dad laughed. Bobby, Jake and I hastily closed our mouths.
"I think they like the outfits," Denise laughed.
"And how!" we exclaimed in unison.
"What happened here?" Layla asked - apparently she hadn't been in on the plan.
"Well, Fran and I met Denise when we went shopping and we decided to see if we could find a common theme," Elisa replied. "We all loved this dress, they had it in our sizes, and with the string-things it is very, 'eh, adjustable..." she made a vague hand gesture towards her chest and all three girls giggled. I learned later that was not the only thing the 'string-things' were good for. Right now, however, three absolutely gorgeous girls were there with three very proud boys to formally receive the guests.
As I mentioned, punctuality is an old-fashioned virtue that is observed around here and all our guests arrived over the next 15-20 minutes. Most had gone to the trouble of dressing up, but in my eyes nobody matched Fran and her two friends. There was a very awkward moment when Lorraine arrived. She shot daggers at Denise who was standing very close to Jake. "What is she doing here?" she hissed at Jake, "looking like a co-hostess."
Before Jake could say anything, Fran spoke up. "She is. Denise and Elisa are my very best friends and they have been helping us getting everything ready. As have Jake and Bobby." So there! Lorraine, jealous of her social standing, dared not continue the hostility at that stage, but I worried for later in the evening. In the midst of that worry, I did have time to rejoice over the fact that Fran had - more implicitly than in so many words - established her natural right to be considered the hostess through being my girlfriend.
There were buffets with loads of food and a bar. Officially no alcohol, of course, but in reality plenty of beer and mixers. "I'd rather the kids have beer strength drinks under my supervision than neat alcohol outside behind the shed. When you have beer or mixers, at some stage you need to go to the toilet and when you get up you know when you've had enough!" Dad said. But there was a strict ban on alcohol to drivers.
People could pretty much be all over the house. As Dad said to the guests in his brief but funny welcome speech "If a door's not locked you can go in," and then added "and if you don't want anyone entering while you're there, do lock the door." That caused laughs and mock-outraged comments about 'New England liberals'.
'The Cedars' has a huge old fashioned dining room which had been empty since Dad and I moved in; now it came to good use. A DJ had set up his gear and presto - somewhere to dance. And dance people did. I spent almost the entire evening dancing. I danced with Fran most of the time obviously, but also had a swing with a number of the other girls. Jake on the other hand spent the entire evening with Denise in his arms. He is admittedly a very good dancer, but he was glued to Denise in a close embrace during the slow dances.
Poor Lorraine did her best to attract Jake's attention and in a doomed attempt at making him jealous danced so suggestively with Simon that it was bordering on the indecent. To no avail. She finally gave up and left the 'dance hall' with Simon. I didn't see her again that evening and briefly wondered why she would commit the social sin of not saying goodbye. Only much later did I learn why.
Around 3 AM the last guests left. Layla and Bobby took Elisa home; I am sure Elisa's mother had only OK'ed her being out that late with the express proviso that she was chaperoned. Even so, Elisa and Bobby had a great time together and I think they established the foundations for the relationship they are still in to this day that evening.
Denise did not go home in Layla's car. Only a fool would have tried to separate Jake and Denise, and Layla is not a fool, so Jake - who was completely sober - collected his car and was permitted to take Denise home. That he was a gentleman and utterly trustworthy was beyond discussion; in fact a lot of us wished he was just a little bit more forward. "Give him time," I whispered to Denise just before they left. "There really is no hurry."
We were now only Dad, Fran and I left in the big house. Dad said his good nights and retired to bed. I turned to Fran. "Well Miss McNair, shall I take you home?"
"No!" she said. Before I could say anything she grabbed me by the hand and dragged me off up to my room. "Time for your birthday present" she said in a voice that immediately sent blood to my groin. She turned round, looked back at me over her shoulder and said "Aren't you going to open it?" and indicated the blessed straps on her dress. With shaking hands I untied them. The dress started sliding down Fran's body and in one graceful swirl she now faced me wearing only a set of incredibly sexy midnight blue underwear - miniscule lacy panties and an also lace-trimmed half-bra that only just kept her large firm breasts in.
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