FAT SEX. Two words which some people think should never be combined. But sometimes they are...birds do it, bees do it and even us fatties get down and dirty sometimes.
Ever since that eventful night years ago when I lost my virginity to the Rabbi's son (seriously), I've been a little bit obsessed with fat sex. He was fat, I was fat. Our bodies slapped together in the most horrifying fashion. After dishing the dirt to Lindsey about it we decided to do a little investigation on the topic of Fat Sex. We even found out about something called family assisted sex, for those who are very, morbidly, morbidly obese. Amazing. People actually have to have friends and family come over in order to hold rolls, legs, etc., away so that the man can penetrate the woman. I don't know what happens when a man gets too fat? How does one hold a man's pannus up so that he can be with his girl? But, I digress.
Sex was something that was difficult for me at first because of my body. I was in constant fear he would see my body and be completely grossed out. I would never get on top. I would take my clothes off under the covers. It took me a while to realize a very important thing about fat sex: If a guy is dating you, or has at least taken you out for dinner, he's expecting, well, at least wanting sex. No guy in the history of guys has ever told a woman to get off of him because her thighs are too big. He might not talk to her afterwards, but he is not going to pass up the opportunity for sex because of it.
I remember being so deathly afraid of being on top of a man because he would see my body or that I would crush him, that it took me a long time to muster up the courage to do so. Obviously, laying down makes your fat belly flatter, your tits stand at attention, etc. But, being on top sure makes the guy happier and your boobs actually look nice that way too.
The sounds that are made during sex are not one's that are the most...flattering. The slapping, bumping and groaning all sound sexy in the moment, except when you realize that it's your bellies making those noises...especially when you're starving afterwards and your stomach growls.
The last boyfriend I had lived with his brother. I'd usually go over to his house when my class got out and we would hang and then naturally, get busy. While we were going at it one night, his brother walked in on us and saw me in all my glory. Flab Galore. Body flapping in the wind. Normally, I would have died of embarrassment. It's one thing to let someone you want to see you naked see you, but when a person who you don't want to see you naked does...it's humiliating. But, for reason I didn't care. Maybe because it was at the end of the relationship? I don't know...but that poor boy must have gotten an eyeful...and a very important lesson on how if there is a foreign car in the driveway...KNOCK ON YOUR BROTHER'S DOOR BEFORE BARGING IN!
I think the greatest paradox in my life is how much confidence I have out of my clothes. I know that I do a good job (is that nasty to tell all of you?), and I think that since I know I'll be doing a good job, it doesn't matter what I look like naked. He may even think my rolls and bellies are attractive...but if he dare tries to touch my belly...he's in serious trouble...