chapter 1On the day my boyfriend dumped me, my life took a different direction.
We'd been together since I was 17 and I had crushed on him since I has 15. I had done all the girly things you do when you're that age. I wrote Lucy "Smithson" with hearts arounds it. I rolled his surname over my tongue, grinning at the fantasy of marrying him and having his gorgeous babies. I played with myself at thought of him pressed on top of me.
At that time he hadn't known I existed, but I made efforts to go to house parties he went to and by the time I was 17, he knew who I was and liked what I had to offer. Being naturally a bit plumper than the other girls in my year, I had boobs big enough to draw any man's gaze and distract from the fact I had a bit of a tummy. My arse was big too, but in a good way and I had the hourglass figure guys of that age crave. In fact, keeping other boys away was my biggest problem when it came to meeting Andrew. Twice, I was close to getting off with him, but both times I got so drunk that I ended up snogging someone else. However, jealousy is powerful and, after I snogged his best mate, Andrew sought me out.
He was everything I wanted as a 17 year old. He took me out for meals, bought me chocolates, took me shopping and, without anything to compare it to, I thought the sex was amazing. There was no need to wait for his parents to be away, as they were loaded and had fitted out the upstairs of their garage as a flat for Andrew. I say 'garage', but it was a stand-alone building that was bigger than my parents' house. It had three double wide garage doors for Andrew's father to store his six cars and the upstairs was big enough for two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen.
My parents didn't mind that I spent most nights at Andrew's. Staying at his meant that I wasn't eating from their fridge or stealing Dad's beer. I had a serious appetite and had been known to indulge in midnight feasts, which luckily hadn't had much of a noticeable affect on my figure, as my teenage metabolism burnt through the calories pretty quickly. Andrew actually loved that I could eat as much as him and he would cook for me every night I stayed over. I would sit on the sofa, watching Netflix, eating up everything he gave me, drinking vodka and coke and then, when I was half asleep, he would slide his hand over one of my breasts and give it a little squeeze. This was always the start of his foreplay.
The first time Andrew and I had sex, I had tried to be wild and twisty like the way the woman do it on pornhub, but by the third and fourth time I realised that Andrew wasn't really bothered about me moving about. He was happy for me to lay back and let him do his thing and I was happy to let him. Sometimes I would go on top, but not in any bouncing energetic way, I would just rest my arms on the pillow, cover his face with my hair and let him pound me until he came. That is not to say that I didn't come too, but that was usually when he went down on me, which he seemed to enjoy just as much as fucking me.
Every morning was a full fry up, with bacon, sausage, fried bread, eggs, black pudding, beans, buttered mushrooms. Every night it was a big meal followed by late nights snacking on cholocates. The sex was not exactly adequate exercise and I started packing on the weight.
At first I was in denial, then I tried to hide it. I wore baggy clothes, turned off the lights when we fucked and sucked in my tummy when he saw me naked. However, I couldn't hide it for long and it didn't matter, because Andrew wanted me to gain weight.
"You know, Lucy", he said when I didn't finish a meal he had made me. "I don't mind if you put on some weight. We're a couple now, you don't have to stay skinny. I actually like girls that aren't stick thin."
The fact that I was far from stick thin was not lost on me. There was no way I could be described as skinny. If anything, looking back at it, I think people were being pretty generous back then. I was already fat when Andrew met me. The chubby end of the fat spectrum and definitely gaining.