Hi. My name is Michele. I'm here to tell you my story. One of them anyway. I'll start out by describing myself. I'm a mid forties obese short lady. I'm married to a loving man with great kids, but I'm sure you couldn't picture me with that description. I'm five foot one inch tall, and I wear a size 24. I have brown hair that reaches the bottom of my shoulder blades, and I wear glasses for me old brown eyes. I have a chubby face with feckles on my cheeks. My large C cups rest on my even larger belly most of the time unless they flop down under my arms. They're not perky like they once were. My nipples point down, and are about a half inch long. I need a mirror to see them since all I can see are the tops of my areolas which are a darker pink, and about three inches across.
My belly is large and has stretch marks from when I was pregnant. They are so slowly fading, and under it is my scar from the birth operation running my waistline just above my trimmed crotch. My big thighs go down to my fat ankles, and it all ends with my pudgy little size 6 feet. My husband says my toes are cute, but I can't see them to confirm. All I do know is that my pale white skin is blinding in full light. I've never been able to tan. Just burn and peel to be white again.
My husband is a loving man like I said. He's taller than I which isn't hard, but he's no six foot. His black hair is slowly turning gray, and his beard is mostly white these days. His belly hangs well over his belt, and his once muscular build has gone with my once thin frame. He can still mesmerize me with his sparkling blue eyes though. Those eyes have always made me so wet. He is the type of person that would do anything for you if he liked you so it wasn't a complete surprise when he asked if one of his coworkers could live with us until he finds a place.
He's never asked such a thing before, but it's his nature to try to help. We discussed it, and we agreed that he can sleep on the couch until he finds a place. Three months tops before he has to go. The only stipulation being that I too have to get along with him. He called his friend, and then told me that he's coming right over. It's only a few minutes before he arrives, and I'm greeted by the sight of an older man in his fifties standing in front of me.
He's over six foot tall with short brown hair that's receding. He has a thin wiry looking face with dark eyes. His clean shaven chin comes to a slight point before it dives down his neck. He has a slender build except for the small belly jutting sightly out. He's wearing a white dress shirt, and black dress pants like he just got done working. He's not exactly ugly either. He's actually handsome for a man his age.
"Hi there. I'm Greg. You must be the Michele I've heard so much about?"
"I hope it was good?" I joke shaking his hand.
He holds my hand smiling a coy smile. "Nothing bad so far."
My husband takes him around the house, and introduces him to the kids while I order pizza. I soon hear them talking in our bedroom, but I can't hear what they're saying. Then they both come down, and he's shown the main floor before coming back to sit on the couch beside my husband.
"Bob tells me that you're the final say here. Can I stay?" He asks me.
"I suppose. We can't have you sleeping in your car now, can we?"
"That was the plan otherwise."
"You'll be sleeping on the pull out couch though."
He agrees, and I let him know that there's a cabinet in the bathroom he can store his things. He brings in a bag of stuff, and my husband tells him the ground rules to clean up after himself, and he's in charge of his own laundry. We chat idly until bedtime, and then before I know it my alarm is blaring away. Six AM. Time to start the day. I slip on some shorts under my sleep shirt before I rouse the kids and make breakfast. Greg is laying there watching me as I walk by. Something about his just gives me the chills.
Maybe it's his beady brown eyes, or maybe it's his devilish grin he always seems to have? Maybe it a hint of arrogance that he emits? Maybe it's just that I don't know him? I'm not sure. All I know for certain is that he has a leering look, and it's concerning. I don't dwell on it since the kids and hubby are soon wandering down the steps. They all sit at the dining room table to eat before getting ready.
When they finish I begin to clear the table, and Greg insists on doing it. I tell him that I'm good, but he grabs the plates from me looking me in the eyes.
"Sit! I got this. I'm here to help."
He has a dominance in his voice that makes my sit without thinking about it. I just watch as he loads the dishes in the dishwasher, and starts a load to clean. My husband comes out of the bathroom ready to go, and calls the kids to leave. I give them all hugs and kisses as they leave, and then I turn to see Greg sitting on the couch watching me.
"Don't you work today?" I ask.
"No. I have to work Saturday instead. What do we have planned today?"
"I have errands to run, and then I have to work myself."
"Can I help with the errands at least?"
"No. There's nothing you can do."
I go up to my bedroom to dress, and then I leave him sitting there watching TV. I return just in time to get ready for work and go. They're all sounds asleep by the time I return home. The week continues on pretty much the same. I get up, make breakfast, he orders me to sit while he cleans up, and then I run errands until work. After a few weeks he takes us all out to supper to announce that he's taking a couple of weeks leave from work to concentrate on finding a place. We wish him luck, and thank him for supper.
"I really don't want to overstay my welcome, and you've all been so giving to me." He says to us. "I really would like to give a lot more back." He adds staring right at me.
His stare is unnerving to me, but I shrug it off. The night ends, and the following weeks he searches place after place. We barely see him until his time off is almost up. I have called out of work because I was feeling under the weather. My husband took the kids and everything else was postponed. Greg saw that I wasn't feeling the greatest so he told me to lay on the couch before they even left.
"I'm good." I say sitting in the chair.
"Lay down. Now!" He commands.
I feel myself quickly laying on the couch.
"What's all the shouting?" My husband asks as he passes by.
"Just just told her to lay down, and she didn't want to."
"You need your rest." He tells me while Greg smirks at me.
I don't argue. I don't have it in me. Instead I fall asleep. I wake a few hours later to see Greg standing over me staring at me.
"What? Why are you staring at me?" I say.
"Sit. Now." He orders.
I sit up. He hands me a dose of medicine telling me to drink it. Then he hands me a glass of water. I drink it all down feeling really thirsty.
"Lay down."
I lay back down listening to him in the kitchen before passing back out. Next thing I know I'm being nudged awake. I open my eyes to see Greg kneeling beside me. He's so close I can't focus to see him.
"Come eat. It's supper time. Get up."
He helps me as I stand, and walk to the table where everyone is sitting. Then after I sit he dishes out a big supper that he cooked. I wasn't very hungry, but it was good food. I returned to the couch where I sat nodding off the rest of the night only waking to drink more water. At about three in the morning I startle awake having to pee so bad. I get up, and make my way through the darkness of the house until I see Greg sitting on the pull out on his phone. I stagger past him, and sit on the toilet.
I barely sit before there's a knock on the door.
"Is everything okay?" He asks.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just going pee. Or trying to."
"Open the door."
"What? No."
"Open it! Now!" He commands quietly but sternly.
Before I realize it I unlock the door and he's standing in it staring at me with that evil grin.
"Feeling better?"
"Yes. Now can I pee in peace?"
"I ask the questions. If you have to go do it."
I try to ignore him, but my pee won't come out with him standing there even though I really have to go.
"Do it! Piss now!"
I hear the stream hit the water, and feel the relief. I'm scared now. It's like he's in charge of my body. I finish, and reach for my underwear, but he stops me.
"Not until you're done. Now go wash your hands like a good girl."
I pull down on my shirt hoping to cover my bare ass from him, but I realize that I'm just wearing a regular tee. There's no way it's going to cover.
"Go! Wash."
I get up walking quickly to the sink, wash my hands, and then return for my underwear.
"Turn your back to me when you pick them up."
I do as he says, and he watches as I yank them on as fast as I can. When I turn to leave he blocks my path.
"You have a very nice ass. Does your husband like it?"
I just stare at him in disbelief.
