chapter 1

I met him just a few hours ago. It was a balmy summer evening out in the city, and he was the first person I laid eyes on when I walked into the bar. Despite being a busy night, he was easy to make out from the crowd. He sat at the bar, taking up nearly three stools by himself. He was working on a platter of chicken wings, one of those plates that was meant to serve four people, greedily sucking every bit of meat from the bones and washing it down with beer. The way he dug into his food won me over, how he used his thick, meaty hands to tear into each burger, licking the sauce from his fingers with the delicateness of a man who knew food better than anything else.

I'd always had a thing for bigger men, but was shy about my slightly-less-than-normal desires. I had dated a few big guys in college, the biggest being some 350lb former athlete that had let himself go a little bit. They'd all been good experiences, but I was tired of being with men that were ashamed of their bodies. I craved a big man who loved his size, who was proud of it, who wanted to flaunt it and show the world that he loved to eat. But it seemed that most men were embarrassed of their size, and I had begun to grow dismayed that I would never find the right man for me. But then I saw him, and all that changed.

It was him that had made the first move. He had seen me eyeing him from across the bar, him that had invited me over to sit with him. I was shy at first, but began to open up after a few drinks. He was remarkably easy to get along with, and we hit it off instantly, soon talking and laughing as if we were old friends. It was him that invited me over to his place for more drinks, after he'd polished off four pitches of beer and several platters of fried food. He'd even offered to cover my tab.

His apartment was impressive, if a little messy. He obviously made good money, living in an upscale building downtown. I was struck at the plates and fast food bags that seemed to be everywhere in his apartment. We'd sat down and enjoyed a few more drinks together before I'd made some sort of half-hearted excuse to go to the bathroom and collect myself.

And there I stood, in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure I looked good enough for him. I had to stand on my tip toes to see myself properly. I was always on the small side, even for a woman. I weighed barely a hundred pounds last time I checked, and my body reflected that. My chest was small and dainty, and my waist was thin. My heart pounded in my chest at the possibility of getting with this guy, trying desperately to convince myself that he was into me despite every part of my brain saying that I wasn't good enough for such a stud. I told myself not to worry, to just relax and try to have a good time. How could I have known that I was about to have one of the most memorable nights of my life?

With a deep breath, I opened the bathroom door.

He was there to greet me.