Entry Two: Mr. Pain.
Dear readers: First, I would like to answer some comments left on my last story. Yes, that is how the events naturally occurred. Of course, I omitted random events and facts in the effort of flow, but yes, I was a 22-year-old virgin when I met C. I also hated every single thing about myself. I have no idea where these notions came from, but I honestly believed that topping the scale at over 300 pounds, no one would ever want to be with me. I thought big women should take whatever they were offered because the chance would likely never come around again. Please take note that it was my own cowardice and embarrassment that lead me to never pressing charges, not the NDA that I signed. That document, which I later found to be completely fraudulent, would never hold up in the court of law. I simply was too scared to go through the he said she said process at my small liberal arts school.
Now, with all that being said, I can tell you in full confidence that being with the politician, no matter how horrendous the final act between us, probably saved my life. Walking out of that hotel room, I made a promise to myself that I would never be that girl again. I would never share myself with another person until I liked myself enough to show some self-respect. It was in that moment that I made a commitment to change every facet of my life. I had four months before I took flight to the land of my ancestors to go to graduate school—I was bound and determined to set foot on the Emerald Isle a whole new version of my self.
When I walked into Ireland's oldest and most prestigious college, I weighed 85 pounds less. A whole summer of working out for hours a day and eating a several calorically restricted diet brought about a change in my shape... It also brought about a change in my self-confidence. With my chin length perfected curled deep red pageboy haircut, MAC makeup, and a whole new and sexier wardrobe- I hit the clubs and pubs with a vengeance. I was living life and loving every minute of it- that is until I ended up in the hospital, and before I knew it, on a plane back to the U.S. for surgery.
And that, boys and girls, is how I came upon my hottest high school crush, while filling a prescription, in my hometown grocery store.
Mr. Pain.
E. and I had been great friends for a few years in high school. When I first moved from my major metropolitan home city to a small rural county in the country after my parent's bankruptcy, I thought for sure I was going to die of pure boredom. Back then; my style was more dark and dangerous than anything else. With my elephant bottom JNCO jeans, fishnet sleeves, sarcastic tees, and coffin backpack- I was surely going to make a statement walking into the small country school for the first time. Luckily for me, the country is full of kids who want nothing more than to be different from everyone else. E. was one of twenty students at my school who looked like me, listened to music like mine, and hated "conformity" (yes, while dressing and talking just like one another). E. was one of my three best guy friends, he was also the subject of every schoolgirl fantasy I could envision. He was a track god, lean and mean with an exotic look from his Hispanic mother. I use to go to his house and buy five-dollar joints, just so I could hang out with him one-on-one. Of course, I never told him that I liked him. Couple that with the fact that by Junior year I had become more focused on getting into a good college than hanging out and getting stoned, and you can see why after he graduated, we never saw one another again.
That is until I was walking through the aisles of the grocery store and I saw E. standing there, contemplating one bag of chips over another. Spurred on by my new look and resounding confidence, I went up behind him and said, "Well, if you have the munchies- always go for the cheesy option."
Turning around he said, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mi—.... Red?"
Instantly, I felt a wave o pride that he did not recognize me off the bat. Most people from H.S. don't upon first glance; so much about me has changed, right down to my newfound ability to make eye contact.
"Got any smoke to go with those?" I asked while fluttering my long lashes.
"Sure, back at my place, wanna go spark up and catch up?" he responded.
With that I picked up my prescription while he checked out and before I could even contemplate what was happening, I was following him back to the house he shared with some work buddies. All along the drive I kept playing to possible outcomes in my head. One, we would chill, find we had nothing in common anymore, and then I would go home and take care of myself wishing things would have turned out differently. Or, two, I could make something different happen. I could stop being irrationally afraid of rejection and just go after what I could never have in High School. I could do the ultimate former fat girl move—hook up with someone who never saw you as you were before. In all honesty, isn't that the fantasy most big women have in their heads... 'If I could just get skinny person X, Y, or Z will finally notice me?"
We ended up on his couch, watching some comic book movie while he rolled us his trademark fatty. We chatted a bit, reminiscing good times, horrible teachers, and recapping the last seven years since we had seen one another. After two hours of smoking and talking, I figured the night would turn out like option one. But, to my surprise, he looked at me while passing the J and I felt a spark.
"So... I have to tell you Red, you look fucking sensational. I love what you did with your hair." He said with smoldering eyes.
Gathering up all my courage I responded, "Thanks, E. You look pretty damn good yourself."
And that is all it took. We collided into a mass of writhing tongues and groping hands. E. surprised me by taking my bottom lip and biting it between his teeth. The moan that escaped me was nothing short primal. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes with amusement.
"Like a little pain do we?" He asked.
"I... I don't know. Honestly, you are only the second person I have been with and the first guy—well he was rough, but I can't say I really liked it." I answered embarrassed.
"Trust me Red, there is a difference between pain for pleasure and pain for power. I personally love the former, so have at it." He said while leaning in to reconnect our lips.
I took what he said and mulled it over while kissing him in earnest. I loved the feeling of his teeth clamping down on my lip. Did that mean that I could enjoy a level of pain with sex? I wondered if I was always like this, or if C. had caused this within me do to my introduction to sex. I was determined to simply act and not overthink. Who knew if this was a one time thing? And, if it were, why would I waste a single moment second guessing myself? I began to kiss him more savagely. Mimicking his earlier actions, I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and bit down, gently at first, but then I heard him groan, and in response, I doubled the pressure of my teeth on his soft flesh. His hands came up and gripped my ringlets, pulling roughly, but not rough enough to cause discomfort. I found the act extremely hot so I took to sucking and biting his neck. We broke long enough for him to take off his shirt and I continued my tour of his body by focusing on his nipples.
