"I am absolutely insane!" Karla argumentatively told herself. "There can be no other logical reason for this!" Nevertheless, there she was, in the club he had requested her to meet him at.
She was a full twenty minutes early.
She had on the type of dress he had requested for her to wear. Low cut. Extremely low cut. She could not even remember ever allowing herself to wear a dress that would dramatically expose seventy-five percent of her forty-four double d's. However, that dress was indeed gracing her body. She was very well aware of the reactions of the people in her immediate surroundings. There were lookers. There were watchers. There were gawkers. Once again, her body, as it had seemed to be doing for a few years now, was a matter of controversy to people. A slight but defensive smile was all she provided in retaliation.
Her body. Her two hundred seventy-five pound body. A body that in the five years since her divorce, had only been touched in any provocative way by her own 2 hands. However, tonight, tonight for some inexplicable reason, a reason she did not totally understand herself, she would finally allow her body to be touched by another human being, more specifically, a man. More than touched, embraced. Yes. She was going to willingly relish lovemaking, no matter how much she felt she would have to force herself to do so.
"How could I have possibly allowed this body to get so big?" She found herself in her usual self-pity shell. "Now Sweetheart," She mentally heard her mother say, "you need to quit your belly aching! Otherwise you are going to turn into a professional belly ache!"
"Yeah, yeah Mommy!" She insultingly replied. "I hear ya!"
Who was it that had caused her to come to such a low self-esteemed conclusion about herself, and why, how? Could she continue to blame her ex husband? The man she devoted sixteen of her years to? She started out so willing to be his life mate, his soul mate, his lover. During the first eleven years, it was such a joy for her to be such a woman. The last five years she found herself attempting to be that woman. Her husband had turned into such an unorthodox scumbag! The questions, the scenarios continue to irk her. I spent a combined total of fifty-nine hours and thirty-one minutes in labor pains to deliver his children, and he replaced me by contributing to the living wages of a prostitute? I spent hours with my legs spread open for him to take me, to fuck me. Nevertheless, he decided he would rather fuck a disease-infested streetwalker. Yes, her ex husband was to be blamed for the road she taken to become a professional belly ache.
No, it was not her ex. It was not her kids, who it seemed have been intentionally spending a lot less time with her. It was not her meddling mother. These were not the people making her become disenchanted with her very being. It is I. It is myself. It is I! Her voice resounded in her head. The one statement she overthrew as often as she possibly could. It could not be allowed to be a true statement. It would mean that she would have to ultimately face the one person who had blatantly allowed the self-pity to be presented and preserved. Karla. That was why she was here tonight. Tonight she was going to make her self-pity attitude...commit suicide.
Not without help though. She was here in this club, waiting on the one who was going to assist her in accomplishing this act. It was a club in a town that she so very rarely ever traveled to, in a neighborhood she would never be able to afford. She paid for the gas in the car to get her here. The new dress she bought today was instantaneously the most expensive clothing item she had ever owned. Was it all worth it? Was the cost going to be compensated? Yes. It would be. She knew this as a fact, not as an assumption. In order for her to keep and maintain any form of self worth in her own mind, tonight's plans would have to work. For the first time in five and a half years, a man proclaimed that he wanted to make love to her, passionately. She needed to; she earnestly desired to know if such an astronomical indulgence was, could really be possible to achieve.
She kept looking out the window for the van. She needed to see the red van he had described. The one with the fender bender on the front. That was the vehicle driven by the man she had thus far only communicated with in two forms, internet chat and an occasional phone session. In just a few precious moments that would take her hours to get through, they would have their first actual face-to-face, physical contact. Six months of conversing via email and chat on the SSBBW love connection chat room, had finally brought this moment on. Sometime within the next hour, she hoped she would be naked. She hoped Robert would be naked too.
She hoped and prayed that Robert was not a lie. That would be a fate she did not even want to contemplate. Oh gosh, the very moisture she was experiencing between her legs was real proof she hoped that Robert would be just as real in physical person as he was by phone or chat. Conversations of him insisting he got to taste her pussy. She squeezed her legs slightly at the thought. Talks about how she would love to lick the pre-cum from the eye of his cock. A cock he proclaimed was "Just millimeters shy of an exact 8 inches!" She chuckled at the joke. Tonight's venue would include a dick being engulfed by her mouth. Could she remember how it was done? And hopefully, oh dear God Almighty, she hoped she would once again have the sheer pleasures of having an orgasm with her pussy wrapped around that cock, instead of the piece of plastic she had been compromising with.
Whom was she kidding? Ugh! Men do not find anything stimulating about female elephants in human form! Shut up Karla! Just shut the hell up! A battle she had lost before. It was a compilation of an untold number of things that influenced her thinking. A consistent barrage of insults. The ever-popular view of the general public about what makes a woman sexy. She did not fit the category. Her family saying things 'in a nice non critical way'. Yeah, right. Of course, the most beneficial factor of them all, her hubby telling his brother - her brother in law - that he could not have sex with her anymore, because she was so heavy she suffocated him. He thought she was out of earshot. She was not. The damn fool!
This person, Robert never made any inkling of any such commentary. She could not remember the first day she talked with him, but she did remember why she talked to him. He had such an unusual funny screen name, 'memberofmsn.' He did not 'whisper', did not private message. She loved her internet, to a point. The internet caused a deeper wedge in her distrust of men. She, like so many of her female chat friends, was not amused by men constantly whispering a sexual favor, before she even said hi to anyone in the room. All she had to do was put the 'F' in her age/sex/location, and she was instantly bombarded with whispers along the lines of, "How big are your tits?" Robert, never whispered, however. She figured he had to be shy, even on the net. That would have been a good personality trait to have. That would have been a nice reason for her to communicate with him.
However, he was not shy, she quickly discovered. His flirtation, although it never really got off-color, did hint an indulgence. It was a continual reminder of his deep, keen admiration for big, beautiful women. He soon had many admirers himself . All the women loved it. Oh yes, there were a few men who had insisted on a same level of admiration for plump women, but Robert was the most genuine. That was a plus. He never whispered. He must have seen her picture, he was just being a good, kindhearted person, that was all. He did not do anything to hurt anyone's feelings. He really would not want to be in any form of a lovemaking session with a fat woman, she thought. He obviously whispered some of the other women, but, she concluded, her picture indicated she was not deserving of his friendship. She was just too big for any man.
Then one day, she found out the reason why he did not whisper her. It was an unexpected statement from a brand new woman in the chat room. She did not remember the first remark that caused memberofmsn to crack a great joke, but she did remember her next remark.
"NO MEMBER, but I have to say that I really appreciate the fact that you did not whisper me when I came into the room, like so many other men feel they have to do."
"Honey, I find it rude to intrude on someone who would not appreciate it!"
What had possessed Karla to type her response? Was it being caught up in a moment of contentment with what this person had to say, or was it just a curiosity of what he would say?
"Member, I wish you would be an intrusion on me!"
She sent it. A split second later, she regretted it. He would not respond to that. He would not respond to a woman who needed the majority of a couch to sit on, as her picture had indicated.
A familiar blinking blue, box was suddenly presented. This time, it was his name. She opened the message.
"Is that my invitation to whisper you?" it said.
"Yes", she wrote back.
"My name is Robert."
"Karla."
So it began.
Karla snapped back to the present when she saw a van approach. Was that it? Was that the van? It was red. It had a fender bender on the front. Was Robert the only passenger? Her eyes began to water a little, as she watched the vehicle pull into a parking space only two spots away from her sedan. What was that feeling? Oh no. She did not compensate for this. Her nipples were already experiencing that familiar stimulation. Between her thoughts and desires, they were over-sensitive. Robert had asked her not to wear a bra. He would not be disappointed.
Yes, it was a man getting out of the driver's side. Anyone else in the vehicle? No. Good sign. Very good sign. This night could really happen. She took a glance at her watch. Was it possible she had only been here five minutes? Wow. He must have the same eagerness for this as she. Another good sign. Did it look like him? He did appear to be at least five feet five. He did not have a mustache. The picture that was on his profile had Robert with a mustache. However, he told her yesterday, that he shaved it off, because he found that it got in the way of his love for eating pussy. Oh yes, this night was happening! The polo shirt, unbuttoned, yum. He was so handsome. The loose slacks worn at her request. She wanted to make sure his cock was easily accessible to her hands, no matter where his cock was in his pants, as long as she allowed it to stay in his pants. That was not going to be much time, she assured herself.
She made her way toward the entryway, as he stepped on the sidewalk. She wanted to let him know she was there, and already had a table for two. He entered.
"H-hi," she stuttered.
"Hell-lo?"
He returned her greetings warily. A very stern look down her V-neck, and a widening grin assured her of his liking, his wanting. She stood before this man, and in a panoramic moment, her vision of him envisioning her, she felt completely, sexually wanted.
"I am Karla!"
"Well, hello Karla! My, my, you are a fantastic looking woman here!" She heard genuine sincerity in his voice, but there was only one thing left to make sure this was real.
"My name is Bob!"
"Yes!" She shrieked. "It is you at last!"
"Umm, yeah", Bob smiled with a little laugh. "Me at last! Karla, I absolutely love the dress there. Actually, I really love the material it does not have, if you don't mind my saying so?"
"Oh gosh Robert! Do you really like what you are looking at? I mean I did not lie to you. This is the size of my body! Are you telling me you are not going to change your mind?"
"Change my mind? Uh, why would I want to do that? I love bigger women! And Lady, that chest size of yours is my major endorsement for that love!"
"Excuse me, you two love birds," a hostess interrupted, "but how many for your party?"
