The Blind Date

Chapter 1

At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I had some choice words to describe my sister. She was meddlesome, overbearing, and an utterly inept matchmaker. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her immensely, but I hated how often she set me up on blind dates. I’d told her a million times that they made me uncomfortable, and that they never ended well. “What kind of luck are you having?” she’d ask. “Please, let me know if you come across Prince Charming on Grindr.” She insisted that I needed to date more, so she fixed me up constantly—this time with a coworker from her office.

My sister said she could just feel, deep in her bones, that this would be different than the others. I had to admit, she was much more adamant about me going on this date than any of the ones before.

This happened every month or so. She’d call me up to tell me she had found a gorgeous guy who was dying to meet me. With my sister’s half-truths and omissions, they probably were dying to meet me, until they saw me in person. My sister was tall and carried her weight in all the right places, even after having two kids. I was carrying some extra weight myself, and I was by no means a mother of two.

I was about 6’1” and chubby. I had hooded eyes with dark brown pupils. My eyebrows were thick, and I’d been told they made me appear angry at times. I was broad-shouldered and carried a great deal of weight in my middle. I had a gut that protruded in front of me in a semi-solid sphere. I knew how I looked, like a guy who knew how to pack it away at the dinner table. That assumption would be correct. I loved cheeseburgers and beer. I loved pizza and cheese sticks. I really loved chicken wings, with extra lemon pepper and mild sauce.

So, I knew why I was fat; it had come as no surprise. I just hadn’t expected dating to be so hard considering I’d gotten plenty of ass when I was in college. But then again, that was over fifty pounds ago. I steadily gained fifteen or so pounds every year I was in school, and to be truthful I didn’t get that much ass on campus my last year, when my weight became really noticeable. I’d become a stereotype, the ex-athlete who kept the appetite, but not the workout regimen.

Alas, in post-collegiate life, my fat stomach and man-tits repulsed every shallow guy who felt they’d been tricked into going out with me by my sister. My sister made jokes about Grindr and Jack’d, but I stayed away from dating apps. From behind a screen guys could be really cruel. The blind dates lasted an hour tops, we’d exchange false statements about meeting up again, and I’d always end up feeling lousy.

I’d been single for a long time, only ever having one serious boyfriend my sophomore year of college. I was only twenty-three, so my solitary existence shouldn’t have weighed on me so heavily. I didn’t need a boyfriend right now—but wants and needs were two very different things.

But here I was, preparing for another night of disappointment. I must’ve been a masochist. It would be the only way to explain why I continuously put myself through this torment. I put on a pair of olive-colored jeans in a size forty and a grey long-sleeve, trying to hide my 260-pound body. It didn’t do much to camouflage the curve of my stomach. I laughed at my reflection, patting my gut in self-deprecation. “Let’s get this over with, fat boy.”

I pulled into the parking lot of Dee’s Soul Food Joint. He had chosen the venue. I hated that I even bothered to show up. But I wasn’t going to not show up. That would be incredibly rude, and would ruin any chances I had of getting laid, right?

I got out of my car and made my way to the entrance. I was told to look for a purple tie, idea courtesy of my corny sister, also known as Little Miss Romance. I spotted a guy wearing one and made my way to a table in the corner.

I couldn’t believe how gorgeous he was.

Maybe there was someone else wearing a purple tie. I looked around quickly, trying to make sure I wasn’t about to introduce myself to some random guy who had no intention of locking lips with another man. He was way better than all the other dates my sister had picked. He had dark eyes. His lips were full. He had dreadlocks pulled back by a headband. I wondered how long they were when they were able to hang freely. My hair was cut short on the sides, in a faded style, with about four inches of black curly hair on top. He stood up and smiled.

“You must be Edwin Simons, Shelby’s brother.” He was a little shorter than I was.

“Yes, but you can call me Eddie,” I said. “I don’t know what my parents were thinking.” He laughed at my small joke, smiling at me.

“Well, I’m Stephen,” he said. His name was pronounced similarly to Stephanie. “Are you hungry? I’m starving.” I doubted he was hungry. Was he making fun of me? He probably was.

“I am too,” I said, actually ravenous from a day of light eating, as to not look too ridiculously chunky on my date. This place had a buffet for dine-in patrons while also offering to-go and delivery options. We made our way to the buffet line and he began to pile food onto his plate. I took small portions here and there. I was showing incredible restraint.

I glanced at his ass a couple of times and was amazed at its full, round shape. He had the fattest bubble butt on a guy his size I’d ever seen. I could feel myself getting hard. We went back to our table and he began to put it away. I couldn’t believe such a svelte guy could—or would even allow themselves—to eat like that.

“The food here is really good,” he said, biting into a forkful of collard greens. “Though I’m probably biased considering my parents run the place. Best soul food this side of the city.”

“Damn, that’s awesome,” I said. “I had no idea. How long has the place been open?” I was feeling more comfortable. I ate a large forkful of macaroni and cheese.

“They opened when I was about ten, so they’ve had this spot for fifteen years or so.” He was eating at a pretty consistent pace, and I found it kind of arousing. I’d never been on a date with someone who ate so freely. “I still help out around here from time to time, even though I’m at the office so frequently.”

“Oh yeah, so you work in insurance and the restaurant business.” He was pretty impressive. I was afraid I was starting to like him too much. If this date ended like all the rest, I’d be more than devastated.

“So, what do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a salesperson—in a clothing store,” I said, a little embarrassed. I had a degree in marketing, but I hadn’t found a position in my field. I feared he’d think I wasn’t accomplished enough.

“Cool,” he said, smiling encouragingly. “That means you must get some pretty legit discounts, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said nervously. I looked down at my plate, wishing I’d had the gall to pile it high like he had. “I’ve got to ask. Are you surprised by how I look?” He gave a raspy laugh and my cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Pleasantly,” he said, licking his bottom lip seductively. He swallowed slowly. “I like a guy with a little bit of weight. I always have, and you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve gone out with, exactly how Shelby described you.”

“You’re the sexiest guy I’ve ever been out with,” I exclaimed. He laughed again, even raspier than the first time.

“I was shocked you didn’t get more food though. Aren’t you hungry?” He glanced towards the buffet, then back to me. “I know you want some more, a big guy like you. I’d hate to have to tell my folks my date didn’t like their cooking.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, standing up quickly. “I’ll be back.” I walked off towards the buffet again. Was he really into me being fat? I’d heard of that being a thing, but I’d never considered myself part of that scene. I never thought I’d meet someone who was. I perused the selections much more carefully this go-around, releasing my inhibitions and getting everything I was avoiding the first trip.

When I returned to the table I started eating bashfully, but with his encouragement, I was shoveling food into my mouth more confidently. Everything tasted so good, and his presence was making this one of the most erotic moments of my life. He had finished his own food and sat watching me. Every so often he’d speak, saying things like, “I bet you’re enjoying that,” or “Damn, a man that can eat is even sexier than I ever thought.” He encouraged me to get another serving, and I did. I got even more than before, hoping to impress him. I slowed but ate all of that too.

He moved to sit next to me, which shocked me. He was being really forceful and being pursued so adamantly was new to me. He reached his hand under the table, and under my gut, and skillfully unbuttoned my pants. I looked at him, surprised at how forward he was being. “You good?” he asked. He looked at me, licking his bottom lip again. I felt my full gut push forward even more with the newfound looseness. I nodded approvingly.

He put his hand up my shirt, slowly rubbing my stomach. I loved that feeling. His hand was warm and strong. I never in a million years would have thought I would enjoy having my fat played with. Involuntarily, a slight moan escaped my lips.

“We should probably pump the breaks,” he said, laughing nervously. “I’ve got some stuff I have to help out with here. I’ll give you a call, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, afraid he might not call. “I look forward to hearing from you.” He laughed, and I realized I sounded like I had just gotten to the end of a job interview. After that he walked off towards a room in the back and I got up. I looked around in my stupor. An elderly couple gave me some side eye but continued to eat their peach cobbler. I made my way out of the restaurant and towards my car. I drove home dazed, praying Stephen would call me. I really hoped he would. I’d never felt so attracted to someone.