Come on guys and girls, let’s have a show of hands. When you were in college did you pick your friends based on how they looked? Were there people who you’d talk to in class or when passing each other in the dorm but who you wouldn’t want to be seen with socially because you were concerned about what you thought your friends would say? It’s okay, you can admit it. If we’re being honest here, we were probably all that way to one degree or another and I bet a lot of you still are. So why do I leave my self out of that last statement? Well, let’s just say I had and epiphany.
I’m not going to tell you that I was a BMOC or some kind of a campus stud because I wasn’t. I was pretty outgoing, and consequently, knew almost everyone on our small New England campus. Depending on the day or the hour, I might be hanging around with the jocks playing basketball and flag football or drinking beer, the long hairs smoking a joint, the minority kids playing cards, or the preppies playing hackysack. I could also always be seen hanging around with the best looking, hottest girls on campus and it never looked like I was trying to get their attention. They just seemed drawn to me. The thing was, everybody assumed I was getting in their pants. Fact was, I wanted to but was really too naive to know how to get from being buddies to getting laid on a regular basis. The irony in the whole situation is that more than one of them told me she liked hanging out with me because she didn’t have to worry about me hitting on her and she could just relax and have fun without sex getting in the way. Great huh?
Anyway, that was the public me. But, like I said, I knew almost everyone on campus and that include the bookworms, social misfits, and, for the lack of a better way of saying it, the ‘normal’ kids who just didn’t stand out in the crowd. I was not and am not a snob and had no issue walking to classes or sitting in the dining hall with any of them. They were my friends just as much as the others, I just didn’t socialize with them much because, well I had a reputation to live up to.
And this brings me to Cindy. Cindy fell into the category of people I was friends with but did not socialize with. The reason was simple – at about 5’ 6” and 250 pounds she was considerably overweight. I always thought it a shame because she was quite pretty and despite her weight she still had a figure. She once described herself as having an hourglass shape – if each hour was about a day long. I’d always admired her for her brains and her ability with languages – she picked them up as easily as I could pick up a beer. I also liked her because she was good company, laughed easily and didn’t seem to take herself too seriously. She was a year ahead of me and we’d lived in the same dorm for two straight years so we had become pretty friendly.
Like just about every other college, the weekend social life at my school revolved around partying. Hanging out with as many of the different social cliques as I did, Friday and Saturday night usually meant making a tour of the various events until I either found the hot spot or stumbled back to my room, alone more often than not.
A few weeks into the fall semester, one of the dorms was throwing a party that promised to be the highlight of the weekend, complete with a live band and more to drink than the whole school could possibly hope to consume in the available time. Needless to say, it was the talk of the campus.
One afternoon before the big weekend, I happened to run into Cindy as I was leaving the library (yeah, I admit it – I was studying) and we walked back towards the dorm together. She was in a particularly good mood having just finished the outline for her senior thesis and was in the mood to celebrate for the weekend. She asked if I was going to the party on Saturday and I said yes. Then she asked if she could go with me because the other kids she usually hung out with were going away for the weekend and she didn’t really want to go by herself. At first I though of making up an excuse but something about the look in her eyes wouldn’t let me. Besides, like I said, we were friends and I don’t treat my friends that way so I said okay. She made a joke about “oh, goody, a date” and we both laughed, though mine was probably a little less enthusiastic.
I’m not going to lie here. I spent the night trying to think of how to deal with this unexpected turn of events. Call me shallow, but I was concerned with how people would look at me, the guy most often seen in the company of the hottest woman on campus, with a woman who was considerably overweight and who didn’t move in the popular social circles. In the end I decided that her friendship was more important and that if anyone had anything to say I’d deal with it then.
Saturday night came and I went up to Cindy’s room to meet her at the appointed time. When she opened the door I was stunned. Where her normal attire consisted of loose fitting clothes that hid her ample physique, that night I was looking at an entirely different person. She was wearing a very snug red V-neck knit top with the top buttons open to reveal enough cleavage to get lost in and a pair of tight fitting jeans that really emphasized her curvaceous butt. I could smell the just a hint of perfume in the air. With her slightly longer than shoulder length brown hair set loose from it’s typical ponytail and a little make up on her dark eyes, I had to admit it, overweight or not, she looked hot. She laughed at my shocked look.
“So I take it you approve?” she asked coyly, looking me straight in the eye.
“Approve might not be the best word.” I replied. “I don’t think I ever knew this side of you existed.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” she answered raising her eyebrow suggestively “Yet.” It was hard not to catch the implications in that single word.
“I’m ready to party tonight.” she said “Hope you can keep up!”
And with that we were on our way.
The evening went quite well. We got a couple of beers at the bar and mingled with my friends. I could tell by the looks on their faces that they were as amazed as me at the transformation from Cindy the bookworm to Cindy the voluptuous sex bomb. Clearly, she was enjoying the guys reactions as well, laughing and kidding with them. The girls were mostly okay to though I’m guessing they weren’t all that pleased that Cindy’s cleavage was winning the attention battle.
After a while she pulled me out onto the crowded dance floor. The band was great, playing a combination of R&B and danceable rock and roll and we must have danced for a half and hour no stop. With so many people in a confined space the room got hotter and hotter and so did Cindy’s dancing. Damn could she make that body move! And I wasn’t the only one who was noticing. Watching her shake her big butt and seeing her boobs bouncing in that tight top even a monk would have been tempted to break his vows. I noticed some of my buddies watching her and they smiled and gave me a thumbs up.
I'm not sure which of us started openly flirting with the other first but it wasn't too long into the evening that it became abundantly clear that we were both interested in the same thing - ending up naked in the same bed. Maybe it was the way she put her head on my shoulder and pressed against me during our first slow dance or didn't flinch when I let my hand slide down to caress her butt on the crowded dance floor. Maybe it was that she didn't object even a little when I brushed some crumbs out of her cleavage and off her rather ample tits as we leaned against the wall. Maybe it was the wink she gave me as she brushed 'those other crumbs' out of my lap as we sat outside getting a breath of air. Perhaps it was the constant innuendo in our conversation or the way she leaned over to give me a better look when she caught me staring down her shirt. Whatever it was, we soon left the hall and headed for her room.
No sooner had we closed the door than we grabbed for each other and began to kiss passionately (I think I'm still trying to catch my breath 30 years later!). Our hands were all over each other’s bodies, groping, squeezing, and fondling whatever we could reach. Slowly, I backed her towards the bed where she lay down and pulled me on top of her. It felt so good having all that soft flesh as a cushion, totally unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
After a few more minutes of kissing and petting, I pulled away and told her to get up. With a puzzled look she did as I asked. I told her to go stand in the middle of the floor and to slowly take off her clothes because I wanted to see her naked. From the way her eyes lit up, clearly she liked the idea. I knew she didn’t get a lot of male attention and I think that the thought that a guy wanted to see her body made her feel sexy.
Looking straight at me, she smiled and began to unbutton her top, slowly revealing her deep cleavage, red lace bra and soft pudgy stomach. Pulling the top off her shoulders, she uncovered what looked like acres of olive colored skin. Her tits were huge with large nipples that poked through the bra in their arousal. I was in lust. The bulge in my pants was getting downright painful!
Next came her jeans. Turning her back to me, she pulled down the zipper and with a suggestive wiggle, provocatively pulled them over her broad hips, down her ass and off of her legs. She was wearing low rise panties that matched the bra. Still bending over, she looked back towards me, shook her butt, and asked if I enjoyed the view. Silly question/obvious answer. When I reached out to touch her she laughed and gently slapped my hand away, clearly intent on teasing me more. I couldn't take my eyes off of her body. Even at her size there wasn't an ounce of cellulite to be seen. Just soft rolls of smooth flesh and curves to die for.
