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  • Reader, I fucked him.

    Or I tried to. What started out as curiosity, ended up, as it so often does, in tears and self-hatred. Not mine, I rarely cry, and it takes more than bad sex to make me weep. If I broke down every time sex wasn't a mind-blowing orgasmic rush, I’d be a wreck.

    We carry on talking. He’s downed nearly the whole bottle of whisky and he’s on his third pack of cigarettes. Yet he still seems lucid, funny even. Plus there’s the continual visual spectacle of just how his distended body works. I’m not repulsed so much as fascinated.

    Inevitably, the chat comes round to his size, but more as an abstract matter that we’re both considering from a distance, not than something that will weigh him down for life, but I can skip free from. He talks about his obesity as if it’s happening to someone else, or as if he’s considering a troublesome car or a malfunctioning piece of tech. Funny stories about clothes that don’t fit, diets that don’t work and doctors who stop caring. Nothing too uncomfortable, no fat rights or thin envy.

    So when he downs his last glass, and smiles over at me, and says,
    -Will you come home with me?
    I’m not as astonished or scared as I would have imagined myself to be if you had described the scenario to me several hours ago.
    -Sure, I answer. Why not?

    Although the reasons are multiple, are undulating gently in front of me.

    To see what it’s like, I tell myself. Half horrified at what I’m letting myself in for. Half impressed that I’m taking my principles to another level. And I am curious. I’ve been dying for a look at more of his flesh, to understand what’s going on under his prodigious, uniquely tailored clothes. To get under his skin. Because except for his hands that poke out of tight cuffs, and the neck and the head, it’s all hidden from view.

    And that’s it for this story.

    It’s not that I've got limits, but when I went into details for my friend, she told me to stop, to keep it to myself. And she’s usually my go-to for the explicit stuff. So, if you have the stomach you can follow it here. But it’s not a pretty sight.
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