WG Story Drone
Well-Known Member
BBW, Sex, WG: A football star discovers love for a BBW . . .
When I completed my Junior year, they called me the champ because I was the head of the football team.
As well they should have. To them, and to myself, there was nothing more important than my athletic success. And my relationship with Crystal.
Crystal was the school hottie. The head cheerleader. The queen of everyone else’s drool. She was already modeling professionally. And she was all mine. When I first hooked up with her, it seemed great. The most admired and lusted after girl in the school wants me.
Not that I was surprised. Of course she wanted me…I was football captain. But…all the same, it solidified my standing as the most admired man on campus. And that’s ALL it did, believe me.
Although I was glad I was popular and I had a popular girlfriend, I wasn’t happy that summer. We were now both 18 and I was thinking about the future. Crystal was generally an unkind, snobby brat. Who was obsessed with sex, I might add. That wouldn’t bother most guys, but I’m not most guys. I don’t want to have sex four or five times a day. It just detracts from the experience for me.
As if there was any real experience. With her it was just in and out. No making love, no sensual anything, just straight sex. Again, I thought I should be happy with that, but as the summer was drawing to a close, I started to re-think that idea more and more. I had talked to her about it a few times, but she just made some crack about me not being a real man if I wasn't up to it.
It was at a friend's 18th birthday party, a few days after school started, that I finally got fed up with her. Every guest had gone home, and it was just the two of us. I was hugging her close and attempting to sleep (it was 3 AM) but she kept hitting on me. And nagging in a whiney voice.
“I’m horny! You’re the captain of the football team but you don’t have an ounce of testosterone in you, do you know that? I’ve talked to my girlfriends about you and they think you’re abnormal”
My head pounded with the dual pains of sleep deprivation and the fact that she was talking about me behind my back.
“We can do it again tomorrow before we go to school,” I pleaded.
But oh no. That wasn’t good enough. She had to get her needs met now. She lifted herself away from the sofa and started to remove her clothes.
“Come on and DO me you asshole!” she yelled. She beat her hands on my back, trying to get me awake.
Crystal’s figure was EXACTLY what Playboy and every other magazine said it should be. Rail thin, with huge tits. At first, she was totally sexy to me, but after a while…I started to not get as aroused by her anymore. I think that a lot of it had to do with knowing what kind of person she was, but there was probably something else there, too. I thought she was too thin, too thin to cuddle anyway. I kept thinking I would crush her under my muscular body.
I didn’t dare bring that up, not with her dieting obsession. And, even if she did gain a few pounds, I don’t think it would have mattered to me. She had made me feel like crap too many times now. I groggily sat up and pointed towards the door.
“Goodbye.” I said.
She looked puzzled.
“That’s it, its over with you and me.” I declared.
For a moment, she seemed to genuinely be confused as to why I would be saying this. Then, I could physically see her self-rationalize that it was my entire fault. She furrowed her brow, uttered a “Humph!” and gathered her clothes. I was asleep before she left the house.
The next day, I was determined to get another girlfriend, mainly to show everyone else that it wasn’t my fault, it was hers. I had left her, she hadn’t left me. I already had the perfect girl in mind: Lacy Porter. Lacy wasn’t exceedingly popular or attractive, so dating her would be a slap in the face to Crystal’s pride and vanity. Also, by showing the high school that I, Sam Miller, was going to go for a relatively average girl over Crystal would further damage her reputation. I knew it was vindictive and wrong, but I wanted to get her back for telling me that I was the one that was wrong.
That and the fact that Lacy was very different than Crystal. They were both very thin, but that’s about all they had in common. Crystal had tanning-both tanned skin, Lacy had library induced pasty skin. Crystal had wavy blonde hair, Lacy had straight brown hair. Crystal was stuck up, popular and not very smart; Lacy was humble, shy, and very intelligent.
I knew that there were basically two kinds of girls that hung out in libraries: those who wanted to be like Crystal, but they were too shy, or those who vehemently disliked girls like Crystal and didn’t buy into the whole “Cosmo is my Bible” way of thinking. I didn’t know Lacy well enough to see which girl she was, but either way, current events could be used to my advantage. Either she’d think I was taking her on a one way journey to popularity, or I was turning my back on being popular and wanted a girl who was more down to earth.
When I showed up at my classes the next day, the air was filled with the tension of gossip. I knew that the time was today, now. I had one day for them to think “They broke up!” The next day, it would be “She left him because…” and Crystal would supply as many reasons as she could think up. I had to act today to make it seem like I had been thinking about dating Lacy for a while and I was just waiting for the right time to break it off with Crystal.
When I met Lacy in the library, she was huddled in a corner, reading. I acted quickly, sitting down next to her and asking “What are you reading?”
She put the book down, looking up but seeing no one. Then, she turned to the right and saw me sitting next to her. Her face flushed for a moment, and she struggled to say something.
“Dying to Please…um, it’s a book about…um…” This was going even better than I expected. She’s like putty in my hands…
“Why do you ask?” She looked so horribly nervous.
“I was just curious. I see you reading here a lot, you know.”
She rapidly nodded.
“What other things do you like, besides reading?”
“Oh, I don’t know…uh, um…”
I interrupted her.
“What about eating a nice meal, dancing?” Oh, man. Somehow when I had pulled lines like this on girls before it just hadn’t felt this good. Perhaps it was because this girl had such low self confidence.
“Yeah, I like those things.” She turned away from me now. I could tell she was expecting some cruel joke about her spending all her time engrossed in books.
“How about it, then? Tomorrow night?”
“What?” For a moment, I thought I had been just a little too forward.
“That is, if you want to.” Her face wore a look of concern.
“Aren’t you dating Crystal?”
I shook my head.
“I broke up with her last night.” The look on her face changed, seeming to say “Why would you want me?”
“Ok…sure.” She spoke softly and slowly. I grasped her hand, and smiled at her.
I had planned it perfect. One day of gossip about Crystal and me breaking up, one day of gossip about me asking out Lacy, one day of gossip about how the date went. There was no cause or time for thoughts of why we had broken up. It was obvious…Lacy. The attention was all on her and I now; Crystal was yesterday’s news, tossed away baggage. She still had her status as the most beautiful girl in the school in most people’s eyes, but she couldn’t have the status of being able to get any guy now, and her precious spotlight was gone for a while.
After what seemed like forever, it was time for me to pick Lacy up. She was dressed in a somewhat conservative dress, and her face was heavily smeared with makeup. I thought she looked prettier without it but I appreciated her desire to look nice for me.
“You look amazing.” It wasn’t true, but it was the right thing to say. However, my comment caused her to deeply blush, making her to truly look amazing.
After 15 minutes of small talk in the car, we arrived at the restaurant and tried to engage her on a level she’d appreciate: and intellectual one. I wasn’t the biggest reader in the world (I preferred the rush of sports) but I had some knowledge.
“Do you usually like symbolic fictional novels, or do you prefer non fiction that directly takes aim at societal issues?” It was a totally fabricated statement, designed to impress her.
“You can get a lot from a symbolic book, but the people who can understand the meaning behind it are already aware of the issues that it raises. A non fictional ‘direct aim,’ as you call it, helps those who need to be helped, while a fictional symbolic story just validates the claims of people who already have the knowledge you are trying to give them.”
Woah. Woah! At first I felt totally overwhelmed. She had outdone me…but…I think I understood it, at least to some extent. The next few statements I said were honest, because I wanted to talk with her. She was so smart, and so interesting.
Eventually, I suggested that we dance. As we rose from the table, I noticed she had barely touched her food.
“Did you like your meal?” She nodded.
“Oh, yes, but I can’t eat too much.” I wrote it off as first date nerves and didn’t think about it for the rest of the evening. Soon, we were dancing, and my mind wasn’t thinking about food or symbolism, or even her. I was just taking the entire experience in. This was really meaningful, it meant something. It felt like it, anyway.
High School Champ
By Ghostly Spectre
By Ghostly Spectre
When I completed my Junior year, they called me the champ because I was the head of the football team.
As well they should have. To them, and to myself, there was nothing more important than my athletic success. And my relationship with Crystal.
Crystal was the school hottie. The head cheerleader. The queen of everyone else’s drool. She was already modeling professionally. And she was all mine. When I first hooked up with her, it seemed great. The most admired and lusted after girl in the school wants me.
Not that I was surprised. Of course she wanted me…I was football captain. But…all the same, it solidified my standing as the most admired man on campus. And that’s ALL it did, believe me.
Although I was glad I was popular and I had a popular girlfriend, I wasn’t happy that summer. We were now both 18 and I was thinking about the future. Crystal was generally an unkind, snobby brat. Who was obsessed with sex, I might add. That wouldn’t bother most guys, but I’m not most guys. I don’t want to have sex four or five times a day. It just detracts from the experience for me.
As if there was any real experience. With her it was just in and out. No making love, no sensual anything, just straight sex. Again, I thought I should be happy with that, but as the summer was drawing to a close, I started to re-think that idea more and more. I had talked to her about it a few times, but she just made some crack about me not being a real man if I wasn't up to it.
It was at a friend's 18th birthday party, a few days after school started, that I finally got fed up with her. Every guest had gone home, and it was just the two of us. I was hugging her close and attempting to sleep (it was 3 AM) but she kept hitting on me. And nagging in a whiney voice.
“I’m horny! You’re the captain of the football team but you don’t have an ounce of testosterone in you, do you know that? I’ve talked to my girlfriends about you and they think you’re abnormal”
My head pounded with the dual pains of sleep deprivation and the fact that she was talking about me behind my back.
“We can do it again tomorrow before we go to school,” I pleaded.
But oh no. That wasn’t good enough. She had to get her needs met now. She lifted herself away from the sofa and started to remove her clothes.
“Come on and DO me you asshole!” she yelled. She beat her hands on my back, trying to get me awake.
Crystal’s figure was EXACTLY what Playboy and every other magazine said it should be. Rail thin, with huge tits. At first, she was totally sexy to me, but after a while…I started to not get as aroused by her anymore. I think that a lot of it had to do with knowing what kind of person she was, but there was probably something else there, too. I thought she was too thin, too thin to cuddle anyway. I kept thinking I would crush her under my muscular body.
I didn’t dare bring that up, not with her dieting obsession. And, even if she did gain a few pounds, I don’t think it would have mattered to me. She had made me feel like crap too many times now. I groggily sat up and pointed towards the door.
“Goodbye.” I said.
She looked puzzled.
“That’s it, its over with you and me.” I declared.
For a moment, she seemed to genuinely be confused as to why I would be saying this. Then, I could physically see her self-rationalize that it was my entire fault. She furrowed her brow, uttered a “Humph!” and gathered her clothes. I was asleep before she left the house.
…
The next day, I was determined to get another girlfriend, mainly to show everyone else that it wasn’t my fault, it was hers. I had left her, she hadn’t left me. I already had the perfect girl in mind: Lacy Porter. Lacy wasn’t exceedingly popular or attractive, so dating her would be a slap in the face to Crystal’s pride and vanity. Also, by showing the high school that I, Sam Miller, was going to go for a relatively average girl over Crystal would further damage her reputation. I knew it was vindictive and wrong, but I wanted to get her back for telling me that I was the one that was wrong.
That and the fact that Lacy was very different than Crystal. They were both very thin, but that’s about all they had in common. Crystal had tanning-both tanned skin, Lacy had library induced pasty skin. Crystal had wavy blonde hair, Lacy had straight brown hair. Crystal was stuck up, popular and not very smart; Lacy was humble, shy, and very intelligent.
I knew that there were basically two kinds of girls that hung out in libraries: those who wanted to be like Crystal, but they were too shy, or those who vehemently disliked girls like Crystal and didn’t buy into the whole “Cosmo is my Bible” way of thinking. I didn’t know Lacy well enough to see which girl she was, but either way, current events could be used to my advantage. Either she’d think I was taking her on a one way journey to popularity, or I was turning my back on being popular and wanted a girl who was more down to earth.
When I showed up at my classes the next day, the air was filled with the tension of gossip. I knew that the time was today, now. I had one day for them to think “They broke up!” The next day, it would be “She left him because…” and Crystal would supply as many reasons as she could think up. I had to act today to make it seem like I had been thinking about dating Lacy for a while and I was just waiting for the right time to break it off with Crystal.
When I met Lacy in the library, she was huddled in a corner, reading. I acted quickly, sitting down next to her and asking “What are you reading?”
She put the book down, looking up but seeing no one. Then, she turned to the right and saw me sitting next to her. Her face flushed for a moment, and she struggled to say something.
“Dying to Please…um, it’s a book about…um…” This was going even better than I expected. She’s like putty in my hands…
“Why do you ask?” She looked so horribly nervous.
“I was just curious. I see you reading here a lot, you know.”
She rapidly nodded.
“What other things do you like, besides reading?”
“Oh, I don’t know…uh, um…”
I interrupted her.
“What about eating a nice meal, dancing?” Oh, man. Somehow when I had pulled lines like this on girls before it just hadn’t felt this good. Perhaps it was because this girl had such low self confidence.
“Yeah, I like those things.” She turned away from me now. I could tell she was expecting some cruel joke about her spending all her time engrossed in books.
“How about it, then? Tomorrow night?”
“What?” For a moment, I thought I had been just a little too forward.
“That is, if you want to.” Her face wore a look of concern.
“Aren’t you dating Crystal?”
I shook my head.
“I broke up with her last night.” The look on her face changed, seeming to say “Why would you want me?”
“Ok…sure.” She spoke softly and slowly. I grasped her hand, and smiled at her.
…
I had planned it perfect. One day of gossip about Crystal and me breaking up, one day of gossip about me asking out Lacy, one day of gossip about how the date went. There was no cause or time for thoughts of why we had broken up. It was obvious…Lacy. The attention was all on her and I now; Crystal was yesterday’s news, tossed away baggage. She still had her status as the most beautiful girl in the school in most people’s eyes, but she couldn’t have the status of being able to get any guy now, and her precious spotlight was gone for a while.
After what seemed like forever, it was time for me to pick Lacy up. She was dressed in a somewhat conservative dress, and her face was heavily smeared with makeup. I thought she looked prettier without it but I appreciated her desire to look nice for me.
“You look amazing.” It wasn’t true, but it was the right thing to say. However, my comment caused her to deeply blush, making her to truly look amazing.
After 15 minutes of small talk in the car, we arrived at the restaurant and tried to engage her on a level she’d appreciate: and intellectual one. I wasn’t the biggest reader in the world (I preferred the rush of sports) but I had some knowledge.
“Do you usually like symbolic fictional novels, or do you prefer non fiction that directly takes aim at societal issues?” It was a totally fabricated statement, designed to impress her.
“You can get a lot from a symbolic book, but the people who can understand the meaning behind it are already aware of the issues that it raises. A non fictional ‘direct aim,’ as you call it, helps those who need to be helped, while a fictional symbolic story just validates the claims of people who already have the knowledge you are trying to give them.”
Woah. Woah! At first I felt totally overwhelmed. She had outdone me…but…I think I understood it, at least to some extent. The next few statements I said were honest, because I wanted to talk with her. She was so smart, and so interesting.
Eventually, I suggested that we dance. As we rose from the table, I noticed she had barely touched her food.
“Did you like your meal?” She nodded.
“Oh, yes, but I can’t eat too much.” I wrote it off as first date nerves and didn’t think about it for the rest of the evening. Soon, we were dancing, and my mind wasn’t thinking about food or symbolism, or even her. I was just taking the entire experience in. This was really meaningful, it meant something. It felt like it, anyway.
