Extra Lovin’

Chapter 1

Thomas Fielding sighed. He was sick of all of it. The dating scene: who needs it? Nothing but trouble, a waste of time, one disappointment after another—Thomas came to the conclusion that dating just wasn’t worth it anymore. He’ll learn to live with his loneliness. What else can he do?

John Donne wrote, “No man is an island.” Yeah, right. It was tough being the guy Thomas was: a lover of “the fuller figure.” He was an island in the middle of a sea of waifs. No, that wasn’t completely true. He did spy a few nice-size women at his workplace every once in a while. Thomas was the manager at BB’s Steakhouse, a grand old place that served the finest meals around. It was a family business, started by his great-great-grandfather in Oklahoma. The family had voted to branch out and create other restaurants like the original.

This spot was far enough away so that Thomas wouldn’t have to put up with the opinions and snooping questions of his mother and aunts; at the same time, it wasn’t so far away as that he couldn’t drive home if he had to. This was a good spot: a lot of tourists made their way through the town, which gave his four-month old place the great start that it needed.

It also provided Thomas the opportunity to see some lovely women who possessed the kind of figure he loved to watch. Unfortunately, it happened so seldom that he felt as though he lived in a desert.

For some reason, the town seemed to hold few BBWs. There were way too many gyms and fitness centers than were necessary. So, Thomas’ dating life was next to hopeless. Sure, he wasn’t so shallow as to limit himself just because of a woman’s size, but the very nice women he dated just never really turned him on. His short-lived trysts never amounted to much. He could just never get excited about being intimate with them.

All that was about to change . . .

_____oOo_____

“Geri! C’mon, let’s go, Birthday Girl!” Taylor yelled out from the car. “Move it, Thunder Thighs!” Taylor couldn’t help but giggle at her friend.

Geri looked at Taylor with that “you just made a big mistake by calling me that” look—then she broke out into a big smile and opened the passenger-side door. The two other young women, Dina and Janie, were cracking up in the back seat.

“Shut up, Fat Ass, and drive, will ya?” The four were all good friends as well as co-workers. Geri Brown was definitely the plump one of the group, but the joking was light-hearted. Every girl got her “just desserts,” one way or another. Geri’s lame comeback was obviously a joke, as Taylor was tall and leggy—the typical Swedish gym-nymph.

“C’mon, let’s go! We have a birthday to celebrate!” yelled Dina, playfully impatient. They were on their way to celebrate Geri’s 28th birthday in style. Dina and Janie had each been to BB’s Steakhouse on different occasions and felt that it was the perfect place to bring their new friend.

Geri hadn’t been in town all that long, but that didn’t matter. This foursome bonded as soon as Geri had arrived into town and on the job. It was that kind of sisterly friendship that many others envied. The girls were nearly inseparable and each of them had opened up and shared many, if not all, of their most intimate secrets . . .

. . . except Geri. While she had told “the girls” an awful lot about herself in the last four months—such as her upbringing in a strict but loving home, her travel with her family, her first crush, her first love, her last ridiculous boyfriend, her hopes for marriage—she hadn’t told them about some deep-seated desires and fantasies. She hadn’t told anyone, for that matter, about her dream of being very fat, feeling surrounded by her soft squishiness. Some things were best left unsaid.

The girls arrived at BB’s and they entered the establishment together. They were obviously all friends, but one would wonder about the mixture: Geri was an hourglass figure (make that more like an hour-and-a-half-glass), 5'4" tall, long brown cascading hair, and definitely endowed in her bust and backside; Taylor was 5'9" tall with a completely toned and femininely muscular figure, with long, golden blonde hair; Dina was a 5'7" brunette with a runner’s figure (very muscular calves and thighs, but not much definition or bust line up top); and Janie, who at 5'6" was a pleasantly plump pear-shaped, red-haired beauty, who just couldn’t get rid of the flare of her hips or her “saddlebags” to save her life.

The funny thing is that they were complaining about how much weight they each gained over Thanksgiving and Christmas. Here it was, the beginning of January, and they were doing what? Going out to eat, of course! That’s okay: it was a special occasion.

_____oOo_____

As the hostess greeted a group of four women, Thomas stopped in his tracks. He was busy as usual, but he couldn’t help staring at the exquisite beauty at the dining entrance. She was the cute, chubby one. No, she was gorgeous. She had long hair, a terrific smile, and that figure—wow, that sexy figure! Thomas quickly came to his senses and made some uncharacteristic excuse to get a few more glimpses of this Helen of Troy.

As the hostess led the giddy troupe to their table, Thomas thought he was going to have heart failure. He was completely mesmerized. Later on, when he had his senses back, Thomas wondered how obvious he was to the other patrons. He knew he must have been staring at her generous backside as it swayed and bounced back and forth. Man, what an ass, he thought to himself. He could tell that her thighs were ever so deliciously inviting.

As the lunch hour progressed, Thomas continued to find some way of passing through the room where the festive four were enjoying themselves. He made sure that the waiter paid particular attention to them. He wanted them to return. He wanted her to return.

That’s exactly what happened. Geri and “the girls” started making return visits. It quickly became a weekly ritual, somewhere in the middle of the workweek. Thomas was pleased. He not only had repeat business, he had a gorgeous brunette come sashay through his dining rooms. How he loved to watch her walk. He relished every opportunity to see her in motion. She was living poetry. When she went walking by, he was in heaven.

No, he was in La-La Land. What? La-La Land?!

“Tom, buddy, I said, ‘are you in La-La Land or sumpthin?’”

Thomas woke up to his favorite pain-in-the-neck friend, a guy who thought he was the world’s greatest salesman and everyone’s friend.

Thomas just glared at him and said slowly, “Max . . .”

“Oop, oop, sorry. I know, I know: nevah call you ‘Tom.’ Am I right? Huh? Right?” Max always tried to butter people up to cover his mistakes. Too bad he failed so miserably at it.

Our proprietor spoke very deliberately. “You know I hate that name. It’s not my name, Max. My name is Thomas. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatevah,” Max replied in his thick East Boston accent. Too bad he didn’t just stay there, Thomas thought to himself.

“No, Max, I was just lost in thought about something,” Thomas said with a slight air of please-leave-me-alone.

“Naw, buddy, I know. I know that look. You were admiring one of d’ose girls ovah there, werentcha? Huh? Huh?” Max prodded.

Thomas looked at Max without turning his head. Max was a major pain, but sometimes he was a good egg. That twinkle in Max’s eye broke down the wall Thomas was quickly trying to erect. Thomas’ face changed as he slipped on a sly smile. He knew Max knew—there was no hiding it.

“Yeah, Max, I was,” Thomas said with a smirk.

“Eh? Ehhhh? I knew it! I just knew it! It was the plump one, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aww, don’t gimme that ‘whaddya mean?’ stuff! I know, I can tell: you like plump women, dontcha?” Max winked with a knowing smile.

Thomas just looked at him. He could tell that Max knew. No getting around it. Not that Thomas was ashamed—he just never really talked about it.

“Tom-mmas,” Max recovered, “Thomas, c’mon, man, you’re talkin’ to an Italian heyah. I can tell you like your women who have been eatin’ some extra helpin’s of pasta. Am I right or what?”

Max leaned into Thomas’ space to speak in a slightly lower voice. Thomas hated that.

“Hey, man, I know these things. I mean, hey, look at my ex-girlfriend. You seen pictures of my ex-wife, too, right? Were they skinny? I don’t think so. Hey, I see that gleam in your eye when we’re doin’ business. She walks by and you can’t think. I know. ‘Salright. Capice?”

“Yeah, Max, you’re right. I think she’s, y’know—” Max raised his eyebrows in anticipation of Thomas’ final word: “—sexy.”

“Yeah, I knew it! She sure is, buddy, she sure is. Nice little waddle to her, nice hips, nice curves, eh?” Max had become a friend for a moment, someone who knew just how Thomas felt. “Eh, buddy, eh? Knowhutimean? Eh? Nice curves?” Now he was annoying again.

“Yeah, Max, nice curves.”

“So, whatcha gonna do, buddy? Just stand there?”

Thomas looked at Max quizzically.

“C’mon, Tom, ya just gonna let her slip away like that? She’s a terrific-lookin’ woman. She has a great smile. She likes to laugh a lot. What’s not to like? Not only that, I bet she’ll keep you warm in bed, eh? You’re not gonna act on it, Tommy Boy? What if she ends up with some other guy?”

Thomas was actually deep in thought, listening to Max’s meaning (if he wasn’t, he would’ve killed Max for calling him “Tommy Boy”). Max had a point: why should he let a beautiful vision like this get away? He knew then and there that he’d have to ask The Bombshell out for dinner. No sense in asking her out to a movie—he knew she liked to eat.

_____oOo_____

And eat she did. While Thomas spent several weeks getting up the courage to approach her, he noticed that she was coming in two other times a week for lunch, apart from her weekly lunch with her friends. She sat alone in one corner booth. He knew that wouldn’t last long, however. On this particular day, he watched her barely make it into the booth. She was definitely starting to show the results of her dining out.

Thomas could feel his heart rate go up. He stared at her from one side of the room. She was amazing: dressed in jeans and a sweater-shirt, her belly bulged underneath the table top, her thighs spread deliciously beyond the width of her hips, and her boobs were jutting out and resting on the table. She had squeezed into the booth. He just knew that this was going to have to be her last time in a booth; next time, she just won’t be able to fit.

While he was still looking at her, Thomas noticed his hands shaking. Good gosh, I’m losing it, he thought. Here was calm, cool, collect Thomas—who couldn’t even stand being called “Tom”—physically reacting to the sight of a woman. He had been waiting to talk to her for weeks, preparing his approach, deciding what to say and how to say it. Now, his heart was pounding. His blood was racing. He was in total lust.

She was very plump. She was stretching her sweater in her upper arms, tummy, and breasts. She was stretching her jeans at every seam. Her hair was flowing and soft. Her face had barely any make-up. Her lips were red. Her nails were done. She was perfect.

Thomas couldn’t take it anymore. With one deliberate inhale, he made his way towards her booth. She looked up at him as he approached, which made him nervous until she smiled at him. She looked down at her next forkful of food before he ended up standing next to her table. The Bombshell looked up at him with a slight look of disbelief.

Thomas quickly cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me, Miss. My name is Thomas Fielding and I’m the manager here. I was wondering if I may sit and speak with you for a moment.”

The Vision’s eyes lit up and small smile grew on her lovely face. “Sure.”

Thomas’ mind was racing as he sat down. How do I start? What do I say? Well, whatever I say, it’ll be the truth. Just don’t sound like an idiot, old man.

“Well, uh,” Thomas started. He was complete at a loss for words. He quickly looked into her eyes. They sparkled. They were happy. They were warm. He suddenly lost the nervous edge.

“I’ve seen you come into my restaurant a lot. I know you come in once a week with your friends and many times by yourself.”

Geri’s next thought was “Is this guy watching me? Boy, he’s cute.” She gave him a coy look and replied, “You’re bluffing.”

“You order the Surf & Turf Combo. Every time.” He didn’t skip a beat.

Geri stopped eating. “He’s a stalker. No, he can’t be a stalker—he’s too normal. Maybe stalkers don’t always look bad. What do I do? Boy, he’s cute.” Geri hated the sudden rush of confusion.

“Oh, man, this isn’t coming out right. I don’t mean to scare you. I, uh, well, how do I say this?” he muttered.

“Just say it,” Geri stated, hoping that she’ll be able to discern the truth.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he blurted out. “I would really like to get to know you and was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner. With me. Sometime.” His voice trailed off. “Somewhere . . . else.”

Geri sat, amazed. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Here was this really handsome guy asking her out. She’s just Geri, the shy, short woman who never gets asked out and does nothing but eat and get fat. She doesn’t really interact with a lot of guys outside of work. She keeps to herself. She likes her independence. She likes her little world. She—oh, what the hell.

“I’d love to,” was all she could muster and give him a big grin.

That’s all Thomas needed. He suddenly felt like he was on Cloud Nine. Wow. She accepted!

“Great,” he smiled back. “How’s Saturday? Eight o’clock? Seven?”

“We’re going out to eat while we talk? Better make it six,” she said mischievously.

“Okay, then, six o’clock it is!” They exchanged numbers and addresses. Thomas excused himself and the two couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day.

_____oOo_____

Saturday night came and Thomas picked her up at six as planned. He was dressed well, but overly so. She, on the other hand, looked like a goddess. She was dressed casual, but man, were her clothes tight. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her walk to his car.

They chit-chatted as he drove her to The Red Pepper, a wonderful Mexican food joint. He told her that she has to branch out and try more foods, to which she smiled and said she was game.

As they sat there eating appetizers, Geri couldn't help but ask, “Why did you pick me over, say, my girlfriend Taylor—you know, the tall slender blonde? Men just seem to fall for her. In fact, every time we have gone to a club, she has five or six men asking her to dance and hardly anyone asks me. So, why me?”

Thomas said, “Well, I told you in the car that you looked terrific, right? It’s your eyes and your figure. Your eyes are full of life and fun. The twinkle in your eye ‘gets’ me every time. I also like women with some meat on their bones. No wait, I take that back. I like women with a lot of meat on their bones! You were a vision when I first saw you. Now you’re, uh, even more. I noticed that you’re not afraid to order a dessert after your meals and I love that.”

“Well,” she said, “that’s different—but I like it.” Geri didn’t know what to make of this. She had never been on a date where a guy actually liked her figure, just the way it was. She had dated some guys that said she was fine, but she could tell they were just being tolerant. Now she was sitting at dinner with a guy who really, truly liked her chubby! What more could a girl ask for? (Hmm, how about two desserts? Oh oh, Geri, don’t start fantasizing. He’ll think you’re totally weird.)

They continued to talk about their respective lives, their families, and their experiences. Thomas had ordered tacos and Geri ordered two kinds of fahitas and, with Thomas’ encouragement, a side order of Buffalo wings. She finally finished everything on her plate when the waiter asked if they would like dessert. She looked at Thomas, who was grinning from ear to ear. He gave her a nod and she said looked up at the waiter to tell him yes. She smiled at Thomas and he smiled back. Life was good.