chapter 1

“Actually, there are a lot of things I miss about being fat,” she said calmly with a smile as we made our way into the entrance of the restaurant. I hadn’t seen Maureen since we’d graduated college five years earlier, and boy had she changed. “There was always so much pressure on me to lose weight,” she went on to say. “I never really stopped to consider how it would feel to literally drop down to half my size.”

When I first met Maureen back in college she was indeed quite heavy. She easily could have been considered the biggest girl on campus. You couldn’t miss her as she wobbled her way across the quad, her thick thighs rubbing together, her big round tummy and big boobs bouncing up and down with each step. She had a sweet face, with two big brown eyes the size of saucers, and a warm smile that always seemed to be present upon her soft and supple looking lips. She was beautiful then — and she was still beautiful, but it was hard to believe that this was the same person. She wasn’t exactly what most people would consider “thin.” She still had curves, a generously rounded backside, and a well endowed bust that sat atop a small paunch of a belly. To say that it was a dramatic change however would have been a gross understatement.

“How does it feel?” I inquired as I held the door open for her.

“It’s hard to explain,” she said. “I mean imagine one day you woke up and half of you was just gone. You’d feel like you are literally half the person you used to be.”

“I guess I can understand that,” I said.

We put in our names in with the hostess. There was a short wait, so we took a seat upon a bench near the entrance. The aroma emanating from the dining area was heavenly; I knew we both couldn’t wait to sit and eat.

“It’s not just that though,” she said, continuing her thoughts as she took her seat on the bench. “I think there was really a part of me that enjoyed being big and soft. There was something about it that made me feel extra feminine — even sexy.”

“I get it,” I said to her as I took a seat next to her. “I really do.”

“Do you?” she quizzed.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I’ve actually always found full-figured women to be really sexy.”

“Really?” she said, looking and sounding quite surprised. “See, I never would have guessed that about you.”

Maureen and I remained very good friends through our college days, and I always found her very attractive. We hung out with each other a lot, but we never really dated as such. We both were in relationships with other people at the time, her with a boy named Raul that she had known since high school, and me with a girl named Ashley that I had met my freshman year just a week or two before I met Maureen.

“You were so tight with Ashley all through college,” she said to me. “I’m actually shocked that you guys didn’t end up together — and Ashley was definitely not plus-size.”

“No, she certainly wasn’t,” I concurred. Thinking back, it was hard to imagine what I ever saw in a girl like Ashley. Don’t get me wrong, she was very pretty and a really sweet girl, but we had very little in common and considering the kind of women I would go on to date after her, not at all what I would consider to be my type.

“She is a beautiful person, and we cared about each other a lot, but something was never quite right between us,” I admitted. I went on to explain to Maureen how immediately after graduating college Ashley and I moved in together for a few months. We tried to make it work, but we just couldn’t seem to get along. I found myself always wanting something more, never really feeling satisfied. Then one day I went on the internet and I discovered the world of fat admiration: BBW and SSBBW. It was as though I had found a piece of myself that had been missing all of my life.

“There was no going back at that point,” I confessed. “Since then I’ve dated almost exclusively plus-size women.”

“Wow,” she said, still sounding as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Just then the hostess came along and told us that our table was ready. She guided us to our seats before taking her leave. Soon after the waitress appeared to take our drink orders. Maureen ordered a vodka and cranberry, I ordered a lager. One might say I had simple tastes — one might be right.

“See, I actually went to a few BBW events when I was still in school,” she said to me after the waitress was well out of earshot. “They were definitely a lot of fun.”

“I’ve been wanting to get to one,” I told her, “but I still haven’t been able to make the time.”

I had become quite busy in my career at that point in my life, scoring a job writing for a local newspaper as well as doing some copywriting for several area radio stations. I loved my work and I enjoyed my life, but I still felt as though something was missing. I wanted to find someone that I could really build a future with.

“You should definitely go to one of the dances sometime,” she said to me. “You need to experience it at least once.”

The waitress came back to drop off our drinks and take our order for dinner — I of course allowed Maureen to order first.

“I’ll have the house salad,” she said, “with just a little lemon wedge on the side.”

“Are you sure that’s all you want?” I asked her. I saw a look of hesitation on her face, but then she just nodded her head and handed the menu to the waitress. I always ordered the same thing when I came to this place: a medium-well steak with mashed potato and green beans. Call me predictable, but I’m a man who knows what he likes.

“I haven’t had a steak in so long!” Maureen sighed, a look of longing falling over her eyes.

“Oh, they really know how to do a steak here,” I said to her. “If you like red meat you should definitely try one.” I could see the gears turning in her mind; I could tell that she was still trying to be good and eat sensibly, but at the same time I knew she really wanted to indulge herself.

“You know what,” she said at last, “that sounds really good. I’ll have what he’s having.”

The waitress took both of our menus and scurried off to put our orders in with the kitchen. Turning my attention back toward Maureen, I was chomping at the bit to know more about her life in the years since we last saw one another. The nature of our relationship, while always platonic, was such that we felt comfortable confiding in one another about nearly everything. Not being sure whether or not time would have changed that nature in some way, I decided to pace myself and not risk asking for more than what she was willing to give to me.

“So what else do you miss — about being fat?” I considered this question to be fair game, since she had brought up the subject earlier. I had only to say that she looked quite well and had changed a lot since we last saw one another. The conversation seemed to follow a natural course from there.

“Well the biggest thing is the food,” she said, smiling ear to ear, her eyes looking up to the heavens for mercy. “God I love to eat! Dieting is the worst!” I could completely relate; while at that time I hadn’t really had an issue with my own weight, it wasn’t for a lack of appetite. I could pack it away with the best of them.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said with a devious grin, “when you’re with me, no diets allowed! You can eat as much of whatever you want — deal?”

“Deal!” she said, and we shook hands. Her hands were so warm and soft, it felt good to be touched by her even in such an innocuous way.