*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual behavior are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned.
*.*.*
His first job was as an instructor at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. When he waddled into the classroom, glasses sliding down his nose, brown hair greasy, pimpled skin shiny, most of the students assumed Richard Gerrard was another student. Having earned his Master's degree from CalTech at age twenty, he wasn't much older than the majority of the students in his first classroom.
"My name is Mr. Gerrard. You will address me as 'Mr. Gerrard' or 'Sir,'" Richard Gerrard said in a surprisingly strong voice. "I do not take attendance. If you are here, you will learn. If you are not here, you will not learn. It is as simple as that. I do not give out gold stars for perfect attendance. I do not give make-up tests; if you miss the test, you miss the grade. Only in the most extreme cases will this rule ever be set aside. Hospitalization, death of a spouse, parents, sibling or child. The flu? Not an excuse. Wear a diaper and I'll put the wastebasket near your desk for you."
"Are you serious?" a stunning young blonde asked, beautiful blue eyes goggling at him.
"Yes ma'am, I am. And I hope you are too," he snapped.
Those that took notes, asked questions, studied said that Richard Gerrard was the best teacher on the ULD campus. Those that did not study, take notes, ask questions said he was the worst, even worse than Professor Huxton, the campus's most hated Mathematics teacher.
When PC Nation needed someone to head up their Data Center in Elgee, Louisiana, they interviewed Richard Gerrard and no one else. He cut his teaching to just three classes and discontinued his servitude as student advisor. This freed up his afternoons and evenings to run the Data Center.
Richard Gerrard ran his data center the same way he ran his classrooms. He had no patience for slackers, he had no patience for incompetence. The Data Center went from being a satellite office to being the primary location for PC Nation.
Richard was paid handsomely. The university even offered to pay for Richard to study for his doctorate. And PC Nation paid Richard to go to their other locations and train their staff in an effort to bolster the smaller data centers. He was admired for his intelligence and feared for his administrative style.
But, by the time Richard Gerrard was twenty six years of age, the five foot seven inch man weighed three hundred and seven pounds. Walking from car to door of the data center had him gasping for breath. He often suffered dizzy spells. Even on the coldest of days, his face was constantly covered in a sheen of sweat.
Dr. Farbacher sat the young man down and put the facts in front of Richard. He let Richard know he was pre-diabetic, his cholesterol was off the chart, his blood pressure was through the roof, his heart couldn't keep up with the strain.
"One more candy bar? One more pork chop? You're gone. Richard, when's the last time you did a sit up. When's the last time you did a push up. These are rhetorical questions because I know you've never done a push up or sit up," the kindly doctor said.
Richard stoically nodded, then waddled out of the office. He attacked this problem just as he had every other problem. He ate a half gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a package of Oreo cookies. Then Richard Gerrard happened to look in the mirror and hated what he saw.
By the time Richard Gerrard returned to ULD for the fall semester, he weighed two hundred and forty seven pounds. He had cut his greasy hair to a severe buzz cut and had threw out his tee shirts and no-name jeans for button up shirts, polo shirts, and khaki slacks. Lasik eye surgery took care of the need for coke bottle glasses also.
Some of his female students began sitting in the front of his class, leaning forward to give him glimpses down the fronts of their blouses, leaning back to give him glances up their skirts.
Richard was used to this from the girls that were not doing so well in his classes. He was used to this from girls that hoped to trade sexual favors for a good grade. But some of these girls were carrying A's in his class. They didn't need to trade sexual favors for grades.
At the Data Center, some of the female staff found reasons to pop into Richard's office. Whitney, the cute receptionist sat up a little straighter when he entered the lobby of the building. She would thrust her substantial chest out as she greeted him in a breathy little voice.
Richard continued the diet and exercise program he'd learned at the 'Fat Farm' in Arizona. He continued to bring his sister along when he bought clothes, to get the female slant on fashion.
"Mr. Gone afternoon, as Richard shopped in Burns & Burns Supermarket, an attractive blonde woman pushed her cart up next to him. He did not look over as he was busily looking for something among the confusing array of boxes on the shelves.
"Is that, Mr. Gerrard? That, it is you, hi!" the attractive blonde gushed.
"Yes ma'am?" Richard said politely, confused.
"Hi! Oh, you probably don't remember me, well, how could you? I flunked out of your Information Analysis class," the woman gushed, touching his arm.
Now, at age twenty nine, Richard weighed two hundred and twenty pounds. Much of it was muscle though. He wondered when he'd had this beautiful woman in his class; surely he would have remembered breasts as large as those, legs as long, eyes as blue.
"Momma, I get this?" a miniature version of the woman said.
Richard looked down at the eight or nine year old girl, at the sugar laden cereal the child wanted. The woman didn't even tear her smile from Richard as she grabbed the box and tossed it into her grocery cart.
"Yeah, had you, oh my God, eight? Nine years now?" the woman blathered. "Then when I found out I was PG with Rachael..."
Richard now looked at the woman, stunned. How could she remember him from eight or nine years earlier? He had been a fat blob with greasy hair, severe acne, and thick glasses.
"So, you still teaching?" the woman continued to prattle.
"Yes ma'am, three classes a semester," Richard said, beginning to push his cart away.
"Well, you look great," the woman said, now pushing her cart to keep pace with him.
"Momma, we need get them grits," the girl interrupted.
"Listen, I'll let you get back to your shopping," the woman said. "But, uh, how about we get together? Get some coffee or something, huh?"
"Uh yeah, uh, sure," Richard said.
The stunning blonde reached into her purse and pulled out a card. Richard took the card and said a polite 'good-bye.'
As he shopped, he puzzled over how, he glanced at the card, Amber Truesdale had recognized him. Even his momma's next-door neighbor had not recognized Richard when he'd returned from the sunbaked Arizona facility.
He did not call Amber quickly enough and she called him at his ULD office the very next morning. Without her daughter to interrupt her, Amber chatted merrily, letting Richard know she'd been in his very first class, had failed, had dropped out of college and had married Robert Truesdale.
"That's why you didn't find my name when you went back, looking through your records," Amber tittered. "I was Amber Goodwin then."
"Didn't look," Richard thought, but didn't say that out loud.
"Anyway, married life just wasn't for Robert, so it's just Rachael and me, two girls on our own," Amber continued prattling.
"Ms. Truesdale, I've got a class to get to," Richard cut into her happy clamoring.
"Yeah, I'm supposed be working," Amber agreed. "Ever eat at Dusty's?"
"Been a while," Richard agreed, thinking of the unhealthy menu of the diner.
"Well, that's too long!" Amber let out a playful whine. "See you about um, seven?"
"Um, sure, okay," Richard shrugged.
Amber's breasts were on display when Richard slid into the seat across from her. There was no sign of Rachael. Through the meal, Amber did most of the talking.
Amber agreed to go with Richard on a bike ride through unincorporated Pinoak the next Saturday. She showed up dressed in skintight shorts and top, with a bicycle that showed absolutely no sign of ever being used. Again, Rachael was not with her.
The first time they had sex, Richard was hooked. Amber managed to swallow his fat seven inches down to the root. She swallowed all he shot into her mouth. She rode his face to a screaming orgasm, then let him ride her to another three screaming orgasms. Then Amber rolled onto her hands and knees and asked if Richard had any lube for her ass.
Four months after their chance meeting at Burns & Burns Grocery store, Amber and Rachael moved in to Richard's home. Richard had Amber help him in furnishing Rachael's room. He also went out and bought the things his sister told him an eight, almost nine year old girl would love.
But Rachael was an unhappy child. The girl seemed to go out of her way to antagonize Richard. She spoke quite disrespectfully to her mother.
"Oh, she's just upset over the divorce. Give her time," was all Amber would say.
Two months after moving in, Amber told Richard she was pregnant. Richard went out and bought an engagement ring. Less than a year after their chance meeting, Richard and Amber became husband and wife. Rachael's animosity seemed to intensify now that her mother and Mr. Gerrard were married.
"You're not my dad," was a common phrase whenever Richard tried to talk to the child, or when he asked her to pick up after herself, or when he ordered her to watch how she spoke to her mother.
Two months after their marriage, Amber lost the baby. To Richard, Amber seemed quite complacent about the loss of their baby. After a week of recuperation, she smiled and suggested that they try again.
Richard and Robert, Amber's first husband were cordial with one another. Most of the time it was Amber that dropped Rachael off at her father's apartment. The few times Richard did drop Rachael off for her weekend with her father, Richard made a point of getting out of the car and greeting and shaking hands with Robert.
"Why you do that?" Rachael spat at Richard when he picked her up after a weekend with Robert.
"Do what?" Richard asked.
"Talk to my dad," Rachael sneered. "You know he hates you, right?"
"How he feels about me is irrelevant," Richard shrugged. "He's your father. I'm your step-father. We're both a part of your life. So, it's vital that we get along."
"You're not a part of my life," Rachael grumbled.
It was a Thursday evening when Amber fixed Richard a vodka and tonic. She'd even fixed a lime wedge for the glass. Richard looked up from the book he was reading and regarded his wife silently.
He could hear Rachael's stereo jangling and clanking something she called music. The only other sound in the house was the quiet whirr of the air conditioning, the hum of the refrigerator. Amber had asked Richard to fix that hum, but Richard had confessed that he had no clue how to do such a Herculean task.
"Baby, you know I love you to pieces, right?" Amber said as she took a seat on the beige leather loveseat.
Richard said nothing. He sipped his drink and nodded with approval; she usually put far too much tonic into the drink. This one had just enough tonic to cut the harshness of the vodka.
"I uh, well, I, you know, there's something I've always wanted to try, you know?" Amber said, blue eyes searching his brown ones deeply.
Richard still said nothing, regarding her. He could hear Rachael singing, or attempting to sing along with the insipid warbling of some androgynous singer.
Amber grew impatient with Richard's silence. She frowned, almost angrily. He took another sip of his drink.
"I uh, well, I guess I'll just come right out and say it," Amber finally declared.
