Fat Man Oil Refinery And Big Tits

Rob worked as a safety engineer for a major oil refinery in Texas.

Oil is big business everywhere, especially in Texas. With everything bigger in Texas, not surprisingly, Texas has the biggest and the most oil refineries in the United States. Surely, in the way that Jed Clampett of the Beverly Hillbillies struck it rich when finding oil on his land, I'm sure that many who live in Texas have similar stories of striking it rich after finding oil on their lands.

"Eureka! Oil! I'm rich," said a Texas resident finding oil while planting a tree in his backyard.

A huge stockpile amount, Texas has the most oil reserves in the United States by far. No other state comes close. Texas has three of the top four, biggest, oil refineries in the United States. North Dakota has the third largest oil refinery but is a far distant second to Texas for having the most oil reserves.

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Author's Note:

Rob asked me to write this true story about his life as a more than 400-pound, fat man. Standing 6' tall, he was morbidly obese. If he didn't lose the excess weight, too much weight to carry around on his medium sized frame, assuredly, one day sooner than later, he was going to prematurely die of heart failure.

A wakeup call, this story is about a man determined to change his life after his friend prematurely died from drinking, smoking, and overeating. Because of his long hours at work, he made excuses that he didn't have the time nor the energy to exercise. During his time off, all he wanted to do was eat, sleep, play video games, and watch porn. The last thing that he wanted to do was to exercise. Even with him weighing so much, he didn't take losing weight seriously until he was in danger of not passing the company mandated, medical exam and losing his job.

A huge bonus, after finally finalizing the divorce from his wife, mostly from the stress and from not eating, a miracle, he lost 160 pounds. Instead of just losing weight, just as important as his weight loss, if not more important, he found Jodi, his true love when he least expected to find her. As is always the case, when he least expected it to happen, as if an arrow shot by Cupid struck him by surprise, love had a way of hitting the bullseye of his heart. An added bonus, unlike his small breasted ex-wife, Jodi had big tits, huge, double D, cup breasts.

'I love her big tits,' he said while watching her walk by him.

Determined to lose even more of the excess weight, where he never exercised before, he started exercising now and continued exercising, if not for himself, he exercised for Jodi. He cut his food intake way down. Still, having an occasional beer while watching a football game, he dramatically cut down on his drinking, too. The hardest thing for him to do, smoking since he was 18-years-old, after seeking the advice of his friends on how to do it, and after trying the patch and hypnosis, just like that, he stopped smoking, cold turkey.

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Fat Man, Oil Refinery, and Big Tits

Rob is a man who appreciated big breasted women, an understatement. He loved women with big tits, especially petite white, women, and sexually aggressive, black women with big tits. Undressing them with his eyes while imagining them topless, as if they stood before him without their clothes, he couldn't help himself from staring at their big, bra, clad breasts through their clothes. There was just something about seeing a busty woman that got his motor running and gave him an erection.

'Wow, look at her. She has big tits, huge melons,' I thought to myself while passing by a woman on the street and seeing another woman in Wal-Mart who had big tits, too.

My life dramatically changed when I lost a significant amount of excess weight. A real-life changer, a revelation, never expecting such a reaction to peeling off the pounds, I was no longer invisible to women. I was suddenly popular with women. Going from over 400 pounds to 240 pounds, and eventually down to my goal weight of 180 pounds at my wedding, I looked sexy instead of scary.

I work long hours, 12 hours a day and seven days a week before getting a day off after three-weeks. I don't mind working the long hours. I look forward to staying busy.

Divorced and with no one in my life and with nothing better to do, at least I was earning a lot of overtime money. A blessing in disguise, working took my mind off of my loneliness, my depression, and my overall misery. Further, no longer wasting my hard-earned money on cigarettes and beer, I was saving my money to buy a house and a new car instead.

Besides, if I wasn't working, a total waste of time, I'd be watching porn or playing video games. Nevertheless, even though watching porn is unproductive time wasted, unable to help myself, I loved watching porn of big breasted, topless women. I loved seeing the big, naked breasts of mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts, cousins, grandmothers, mothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, friends, neighbors, and co-workers undressing and posing topless before the camera.

'Holy Hell. Look at the tits on her. She really has enormous breasts,' I thought while staring at a topless woman on his computer screen.

# # #

I loved seeing naked women on nude beaches. I love watching videos of men groping women on the subway, on a bus, on in an X-rated cinema. I loved watching videos of men peeping on women while they dressed, undressed, and showered. I loved watching oops videos where women suddenly lose their tops and were topless while riding a rollercoaster or sliding down a waterslide.

'Tits, especially big tits, I just loved tits,' I thought while watching porn videos of topless women.

Calling up women on Google's images, seemingly, every female actress has pictures posted of her naked breasts. Seemingly, women aren't as embarrassed exposing their naked breasts as men are sexually exciting seeing women's naked breasts. Thank God for the internet. I can't count how many breasts I've seen while surfing the world, wide web.

To me, there's nothing like a woman with big tits. In the way that they walk pose, and move, there's just something about a big breasted women that I love, especially when they jump up and down while jogging or skipping rope. Women are not as shapely and sexy unless they have big breasts.

One of my favorite kinds of videos, I loved watching two women with big tits catfighting and stripping one another topless. Sons, sons-in-law, nephews, brothers, and/or cousins spying on their relatives undressing was another one of my favorite porn videos. Whether to truckers on the highway or to pizza delivery men when dropping their towels, I love videos of women flashing their naked breasts to unsuspecting men.

With some men attracted to women's asses and other men attracted to women's legs, I had a thing for big tits. As long as they're not sagging down to their waists, I love big tits, the bigger the better. When not watching porn, I play video games.

Playing video games for hours, I own all of the incarnations of The Legend of Zelda, Super Mario, and Grand Theft Auto. Accustomed to playing the older games, too sci-fi for me, I don't care much for the newer video games.

I'm more attracted to petite women with giant breasts than I'm attracted to tall women with no tits. I love the Dolly Parton type of woman. Never having had sex with a black woman before, a bucket list that I yearned to do, and a sexual fantasy of mine, I'd love to have sex with a black woman, as long as she had big tits. With many white women paling in comparison when it comes to sex, I read that most black women were more sexual and were more willing to do sexual things that many white women wouldn't do. A real prude, my ex-wife was one such woman.

# # #

"Pardon," asked my ex-wife one day before we were divorced. She looked at me as if there was something wrong with me when I was do different from any other, normal guy who wanted sex?

Already copping a shocked attitude in response to my question, as if I had stripped her naked in front of my friends and ordered her to have sex with them, she looked at me as if I was crazy. To be honest, I would love to have stripped my ex-wife naked in front of my friends and watched her having sex with them. She looked at me as if I was perverted and maybe I was to think that she'd blow me and allow me to cum in her mouth.

I could count the times that I had sex with my wife on one hand since we were married several years ago. Always making excuses why she couldn't I didn't have sexual intercourse with me, until nearly a year after we were married. And when we finally had sex, as if she was embarrassed for me to see her without her clothes, we always had sex in the dark. I should have divorced her then.

Not very willing for sex, ready for sex, nor sexual, when it came to sex with my wife, as if we were strangers instead of husband and wife, sex was a taboo issue with her. Something that I wished I knew before we were married, my wife was a prude. Having never seen her topless or naked, she undressed in the bathroom and dressed in the closet. Instead of wearing sexy nightgowns, covered from neck to ankle, all of her nightgowns were long, flannel ones.

"You want me to do what? You want to stick your penis in my mouth," she asked while looking at me horrified? "You want me to blow you," she asked while taking a step back and shaking? "You want me to suck your dick," she asked while taking another step back and looking as if she was about to be sick?

She looked at me incredulously as if disbelieving what I asked her do.

"If my blowing you isn't enough, then, you want to ejaculate cum in my mouth and watch me swallow? How dare you ask me to do that? What's wrong with you to ask me to do that? I'm your wife and not some street whore."

She made a face as if she already had a mouthful of cum and was about to vomit instead of swallowing.

"Well, that will never happen," she said making another face as if swallowing something sour while shaking her head from side-to-side.

As if identifying me to the police as her rapist, she pointed a long, manicured finger at my face.

"You know that I don't suck cock. You knew that I didn't suck cock when you married me. And now that you're a morbidly obese, fat man, a monster of the man that I married, you expect me to blow you? How dare you ask me to do such a disgusting thing? I'll never get down on my knees in front of you and suck your prick."

Shaking her head from side-to-side again, she looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

"That's gross. That's so gross. That's disgusting. That's so disgusting. What's wrong with you to not only ask me to do that but also to expect me to do that? That's where you urinate," she said while looking as if she was going to be sick again.

# # #

We played the staring game. She stared at me without talking and I stared at her in silence. I wondered what she was thinking. Whatever she was thinking, she wasn't thinking good thoughts about me.

"That's what prostitutes get paid to do. I'm your loving wife. If you want a blowjob, hire a prostitute or go to a massage parlor. Just don't tell me about it," she said. "I don't want to know," she said with a shudder.

She looked at me with sadness while I looked at her with hurt.

"I'm your wife," she said again as if I needed to be reminded of making that mistake in marrying her. "I'm not some whore that you pick up on the street or in a bar. I'm not a woman that you bend over a pool table, lift my short skirt, pull down my panties, and fuck me in front of everyone. I'm not a woman that you put a heavy hand to my shoulder and another heavy hand to the back of my head and stick your dirty and germy cock in my mouth."

She looked at me as if there was something wrong with me when I was just a guy who wanted a blowjob from his wife. If there was anything wrong with anyone, it was her. I'm the normal one and she's the prude.

"I'm done discussing this. I'm not sticking that dirty thing in my mouth. And move your hand away from my ass," she said slapping my hand away from beneath her nightgown and from fingering her naked ass. She squirmed away from me. "That feels uncomfortably weird, I don't like you trying to fuck my ass with your finger. That's disgusting," she said making another face. "What's wrong with you? That's so gross."

# # #

Even with me living and working in Texas, having only gone there twice, once before it was renovated and again after it was renovated, I went to a strip club in Dallas called the Clubhouse. Some kind of clubhouse. Actually, this clubhouse was my kind of clubhouse. I've never been to a clubhouse like this before. There were naked strippers everywhere. Even the servers were naked, totally naked, and if you're reaching out to grope one of the stripper's tits or asses, you had better have a $20 tip in your other hand. Otherwise, a bouncer will show you the door.

With parking $10 and a $20 cover charge, drinks were $12 to $20 with, $20 tips to dancers, and $500 for a bottle of champagne with a two-bottle minimum, a night out at a strip club could be very expensive. The VIP room was even more expensive, much more expensive. Lap dances, of course, were extra but I never had a lap dance. Looking at me as if I was diseased, no stripper wanted to sit on my lap.

Yet, what made the parking, cover charge, and the expensive drinks palatable, Texas has totally nude strip clubs. I especially liked this particular strip club because it was high end, the atmosphere was dark enough not to be recognized, and the strippers were sexier and prettier than the women were at other less costlier clubs. Even though I didn't have any interaction with the strippers, with them all naked, they gave me plenty of fodder to masturbate over them later. I always left there rejuvenated and happy that I'm a horny man instead of feeling like a pervert sneaking in and out of a strip club.

Texas has a multitude of strip clubs, especially in the Houston and Dallas area, but Las Vegas has a lot more. Oddly enough, second behind Vegas was San Francisco. Unless they're gay and lesbian strip clubs, it was odd that San Francisco would have so many strip clubs. Surprisingly, Portland, Oregon is third with the number of strip clubs that they have per 1,000 residents. I would have figured that New York was higher up on that list.

Only, where other strip clubs may have lower cover charges and cheaper drinks, the Clubhouse was a classier club to attend. Now that it was under new management in 2019, everything was new and high end, especially the chairs. They were much more comfortable. With my pockets bursting with six-hundred-dollars in one-dollar bills, I was ready to have some sexy fun with some hot, naked women.

Going there as a fat man before I lost all of that weight, I liked everything about the Clubhouse except that the strippers paid me no never mind. Where they walked up to other men and asked them if they wanted a lap dance. As if I was invisible, the strippers walked by me and ignored me. Seemingly, in the way that my wife rejected me too, they rejected me because I was too fat. No woman wanted to be engulfed by a four-hundred-pound, sweaty, and heavily breathing, fat man, especially not my wife.

# # #

That was then and this was now. Now that I lost 160 pounds of my more than 400-pound girth, instead of avoiding me, something that women never did before, women are starting to notice me and look at me. Unaccustomed to the sexual attention that I suddenly received, they smiled at me, flirted with me, and sexually teased me, too. A whole new world opening up to me that I always imagined but never knew existed, finally taking a second look at me, seemingly, women liked what they saw.

Instead of seeing a fat, depressed, angry, and lonely man, they finally saw me for who I really am. They saw a kind, sweet, friendly, and gentle man with a big heart and a good sense of humor, too. Hopefully, they saw me as an attractive man and, someone not just wanting to be their friend, but they saw me as their potential lover. Now that women are noticing me, instead of hiding at work or hiding at home watching porn, masturbating, and playing video games, I'm out and about looking for women to love and women to love me.

Unhappy with the way that I looked in the mirror naked, I was tired of looking like the late, Orson Welles, famous for his 1938 radio broadcast of War of the Worlds, an adaption of H. G. Wells, War of the Worlds fame. I was tired of looking like the late, Marlon Brando of The Godfather fame, especially when they were both at their heaviest. Looking older than my age, perhaps because I seldom smiled, I was tired of looking as fat as the late, John Candy and as fat as John Goodman when they were at their heaviest. Unless he's rich, no woman wanted to be with an angry, fat man.

Now, that I lost all of that weight, with me lighter on my feet instead of trudging heavily around, I'm always smiling, joking, and laughing. Instead of looking older than my age, I look younger than my age. Now, I more look like the actor/comedian, Kevin James, or so I've been told that I do.

Instead of feeling unhappy about the way that I look, I'm proudly happy with my slimmed down appearance. Doubting that I could lose all of that excess weight, I'm as proud as I am happy with the new me. Moreover, judging by the sexual attention that I'm suddenly receiving from women, seemingly, they're happy with my appearance, too.

Having slimmed down to nearly half my size, I still have a way to go. Getting down to my final weight goal of 180-pounds, not so easy to do, I'd like to lose another 60-pounds. Yet, not downplaying my weight loss accomplishments, I haven't weighed 240 pounds since I played high school football as a linebacker. Abusing my body with food and too little exercise, after hearing about a much younger, overweight friend who died of a sudden heart attack, I'm a changed man.

'I don't want to prematurely die. I want to live longer,' I thought while looking at myself in the mirror. 'I'm too young to die. I have a lot of life left to live. I have a lot of myself to give to some woman, a busty woman, a woman with big tits.'

High on my agenda and at the top of my bucket list is finding a woman to share my life. Only, with me working so very many hours, 12-hours a day, 7 days a week, 84-hours most weeks, before I get a day off, I don't have the time to look for a woman. When I finally have a day off, too tired to go out to party, all that I want to do is to sleep. Never getting enough sleep, especially when working so many hours, sleep has been a necessary but an elusive luxury.

I don't have the time to date. I barely have the time to exercise. All the time I have is taken up by working, sleeping, and eating. With the stress of working long hours, and binge eating, is it any wonder why I gained so much weight? Add to that being alone, lonely, and depressed, with overeating plenty bad enough, I'm lucky I don't have a drinking problem, too.

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Fortunately, for me, a real, sexual distraction, I work with three, sexy women, Jodi, Charlene, and Taylor, who consider me their friend. Friend? If they only knew what I was thinking when with them, undressing them with my eyes, they wouldn't consider me their friend. They'd think of me as a lecher.

If they only knew what I was thinking when not with them, masturbating over them while imagining them naked and having sex with me, they'd never think me as their friend. They'd think of me as a horny pervert who couldn't be trusted to be alone with them. Yet, with the three of them so beautiful, so sexy, so shapely, and so busty, I can't stop myself from staring at them.

Yet, hoping that we may share the same, sexual appetite, perhaps, one day, now that I appeal more to the opposite sex, they'll consider me more than just their friend. Maybe, they'll consider me as their potential lover. With me not having had sex in such a long time, I'd do any one of them, any two of them, or all three of them separately or at the same time.