Fat Desire

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1
Jessica Meets Michael
(as told by Jessica)


It had been one of those long, grinding days - the kind that left my shoulders tight and my brain buzzing. I usually stayed in my office until the market closed, but something in me snapped. I needed air. I needed sugar. I needed a chai tea from the coffee shop downstairs.
A cute, thin guy stood in line ahead of me - lean, wiry, the kind of build that always sent my imagination drifting. As I often did, I pictured what he'd look like padded with an extra hundred pounds. Softer face. Rounder belly. Thicker arms. The fantasy warmed me in a way I tried not to show.
Then he ordered a large, whipped cream covered drink and a scone the size of his hand. That did it. My pulse kicked up. Nothing turned me on faster than someone thin choosing something indulgent.
He must have felt my eyes on him, because he glanced back. Our gazes caught for a second too long. I must have been staring at his drink and food order because he smiled and said, "I guess I should've picked something less fattening."
My knees actually wobbled. The only thing that came out of my mouth was, "Everybody needs to be naughty once in a while."
Naughty. What was I thinking? Why did I use that word?
But he didn't seem bothered. He laughed softly, and when I stepped up to order, I felt him still watching me.
I'm not sure what got into me - I normally only ordered the chai tea - but when the barista asked what I wanted, I heard myself say, "I'll have the same thing he ordered." It was as if something about him had already coaxed me toward my indulgent side.
When I picked up my drink and pastry, I hesitated - just long enough to see if he had the same idea I had. Then he nodded toward an empty table. "Want to sit?"
I said yes instantly.
For the next half hour, we ate and drank while talking about nothing in particular, the kind of easy, drifting conversation that made the time slip by without either of us noticing.
I enjoyed watching him savor his scone and run his tongue around the rim of the lid as if he refused to let even a bit of the whipped cream go to waste. Every bite, every sip, made my imagination run wild as I keep seeing him heavier. Softer. More padded.
When I finally stood to leave, he surprised me.
"Would you... want to go out sometime?" he asked, almost hesitant.
I should've said no. I didn't date strangers from coffee shops. But something in his voice - or maybe something in the way I was thinking about him - made me said yes.
We exchanged numbers, and I walked out feeling lightheaded, like I'd stepped outside the version of myself I thought I knew.
Back upstairs, the market had already closed, so I sat at my desk replaying the whole thing. I didn't date much - my career didn't leave room for it - but there was something about him that stuck with me. And the image I'd built in my mind of him as a fat, contented man made my heart race.
Just then, my secretary Sam came in with a note about a client. She noticed my distraction immediately.
"What's on your mind?" she asked.
I told her about the guy from the coffee shop.
"That's awesome!" she said. "What does he look like?"
"He's good looking," I said, "but a little too thin for my tastes."
She laughed. "So you like your men on the chubby side, huh? Maybe you can get him to gain a few pounds for you."
I felt my face heat. "Maybe."