Taking the Plunge
~BBW
Background: There was once a time in my life where I tried to suppress my attraction to BBWs/SSBBWs, or even smaller, chubby girls. I had been aware of such attractions for a long time, but for many years was too image-minded to surrender to these. This story is a semi-true (mostly true with a few embellishments) account of the days leading up to and the immediate results of my first attempt to approach a BBW.
I like to write/post in small installments. I hope you'll tune in!
Also, this story is more about thought processes than anything else. As such it is mostly vanilla. But there will definitely be a "climax" too!
Day 1: "Her"
The morning crowd at the University Memorial Center was beginning to thin out. Despite this the room was still too noisy to focus. I closed the cover of On War and leaned back in my chair.
You ready? Dan asked me staring down at the book.
My gaze moved from the ceiling to my colleague who sat across the table from me. Fuck no. The problem with Clausewitz is he is too damn wordy. You have to read every sleep-inducing sentence three times to even get a clue what the hell he is saying. How many words does it take to say, All warfare is based on deception?
Thats Sun Tzu, Steve. Rich said without looking up from his copy of the Boulder Daily Camera.
I stared at Rich blankly. What the fuck ever. I said with a dismissive laugh. Anyway I dont know why we even read Clausewitz. What makes him so special? He wasnt even a combatant commander.
Rich put down his paper and considered my point. As he did I looked past him and noticed her.
Wow, that is one massive girl.
She was about 58 and probably at least 380 pounds. Her jeans wrapped around two massive thighs, which transitioned upward and outward into a large butt; large even for a girl her size. Her belly shape was round and curved nicely outward, tapering beneath her massive breasts. A V-neck sweater revealed several inches of cleavage, and even at the slow pace at which she walked her breasts gave a noticeable jiggle.
I continued my split second inspection of her upward, above her breasts and to her face. She was scanning the room for an empty table. She bit her lip as she realized she would have to share. I took in her face in a moment. She was just north of plain, perhaps even pretty. But on the university campus there were so many beautiful girls the only thing that made this was stand out was her weight.
Yeah, but Im sure she has a great personality.
Its probably because Clausewitzs writings were the most concise and consolidated. Rich answered my question. I had already abandoned that conversation and was focused on Her. Rich folded his paper and said to Dan, We need to roll.
I dont think anyone should ever accuse Clausewitz of being concise. Dan said as he stood.
Yeah, probably not. Rich agreed. He patted my shoulder. Steve-O! Were out. Well see you this afternoon.
I waved passively as they made their way out of the dining area. I hadnt taken my eyes off of her, and she was just now setting her tray down at a table where one very fit girl in yoga pants scanned her phone.
I watched Her as she politely asked to share a table, and watched Yoga Pants look up and reluctantly agree. They were one table away. She put her tray of pancakes on the table and slid her backpack down her shoulder and onto the floor. Yoga Pants stared at the new arrivals tray, then did a split second scan of her new companion as she slid into her seat.
Are you sure you need to eat all that? Yoga Pants asked. I smirked in amusement at the question.
This is what I eat every morning.
I can tell. Yoga Pants said in disgust. She made eye contact with me over Her shoulder and conveyed to me a look of complete and utter contempt. I smirked again.
Yoga Pants exhaled heavily in visible disapproval and stood up, collected her bag and made her way away from the table. My anonymous query, whose back was to me, watched her leave then shook her head. Then she pulled a book from her backpack and simultaneously flipped to a page while beginning her meal.
Yoga Pants is right. That fatass doesnt need to be eating that much food every morning.
I purposefully tried to think mean thoughts. I forced my mind to focus on what not to like about this girl, whose name I didnt even know. It didnt matter that I didnt know a thing about this girl. How smart she may be (was that a calculus book she was studying?) was completely irrelevant. That she was a person with feelings was even more irrelevant. She was a fatass who looked to be on the brink of devouring a tray of food that could have fed Yoga Pants and four clones of her. And THAT was the only salient point.
I needed to get out of there. I stood and collected my bag and made my way toward the door. I paused and gave one last look over my shoulder, just in time to watch her take a large bite of pancakes.
Sucks to be those pancakes.
A sophomoric thought if ever one existed. If pancakes were self aware, would they prefer to be eaten by someone like Yoga Pants instead of Her?
I would if I were a pancake.
I had no good reason for thinking what I thought. And for a brief moment, I was a little ashamed of myself. I was no better than Claire at that point: being mean for the sake of being mean. I thought I was better than that at this point.
But worse than my thoughts was the genesis behind them. At least to this image conscious, fit and athletic 24 year-old. And that was something sooner or later I would have to face head on. Because the truth was my thoughts were a defense mechanism.
The truth was I thought she was beautiful.
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