I have a huge stomach and arm fat that flaps for days. My bed is also not the domain of fat fetishists. I am picky and I will dismiss a man who is not to my liking, and there will be someone else in line waiting to be tested. . My curves are not in all the right places but they still bring men to their knees.
There is a significant difference, however, on whether they have ever had sexual intercourse with men. And yet I have been loved, by men a foot taller than me and just as wide, by men at my height and skinny as a rail. They are rarely welcome at all, because they are too prone to not seeing the woman within the fat. We eat the messages that call us repulsive and we let stomach acid destroy the words and we march forward. I have been loved by teenage boys and by men twice my age. A recent study neatly illustrates the principle of female choice. My thighs are so far from having a gap that any day now they could meld together and transform me into a glorious mermaid.
I am not, never have been, and never will be a pity fuck. He will not speak of my inner beauty without mentioning the beauty all over my outsides. Most men would simply not choose overweight and obese women as their preferred sexual partners. I am very, very fat. I can do so much better than men who see only my fat body and what they can do to it. We can fuck like animals at dusk or make love on satin sheets. I am not a little chubby.
My fatness has never been an obstacle to finding someone to love or to fuck because any man worth my time will revel in all seventy inches of my hips and see passion in my stretch marks. They have wooed me and I have said no. I ride them and they hold my hips, my stomach, fingers digging into mounds of flesh and never feeling bone because it is too well hidden. I am not someone to be chosen as a last resort, but someone to be lusted after and pursued. My fat does not get in the way of my ability to have sex. I have been loved by men both plain and handsome.
In all species in which the female makes greater parental investment into the offspring than the male does including humans and all mammals , is a female ; it happens when the female wants it to happen and with whom she wants it to happen, not when the male wants it to happen or with whom he wants it to happen. We learn to fall in love with ourselves. Overweight and obese women can have more sex than normal-weight women only if women decide when and with whom to have sex, and men have little say in the matter. I have been the sea witch in a low cut strapless dress that clung to the rolls of fat on my back, with thick arms bare and jiggling, and I have made deals for hearts that I then broke. I have had those hands turn rough and squeeze my stomach fat as passionately as one might squeeze a thigh or a breast. We look at our bodies in bits and pieces because we are taught that the whole is too much.
I have gone man to man to man and kissed them hard to feel if our lips lined up and if they knew the right way to pull my hair and bite the point where my neck meets my shoulder. We welcome a skinny boy to lose himself between our legs. I have been the chosen one among a group of women more traditionally pretty than me and I have been on the other side, doing the selecting. I am not a few pounds over some arbitrary acceptable weight. We flirt with another fat girl at the coffee shop.
I have never had to beg for sex — except when I wanted to. Our relationships are punch lines, not love stories. Fat people are perfectly capable of putting their parts together in as many combinations as skinny people. Men have begged me to let them pay for a taxi to their houses so they could have me in their beds for one night and I have refused. It means that, contrary to what one might expect, overweight and obese women are not having later, less frequently or with fewer partners than normal-weight women. This, despite the fact that I have been told to accept any scraps of attention thrown my way because fat women are not allowed the luxury of standards. So overweight and obese women could not possibly have as much sex as normal-weight women, let alone more sex, if men decide when and with whom to have sex.
We learn to stand naked in front of full length mirrors and see our many inches as a whole. The male has virtually no choice in the matter. I do not have the large breasts and tiny waist that would make me into an hourglass. Studies of mate preference throughout the world overwhelmingly show that men prefer to mate with women with low waist-to-hip ratios in the normal weight range. Their statistical analysis shows that there is no significant difference between normal-weight women, on the one hand, and overweight and obese women, on the other, on their , age at first intercourse, frequency of heterosexual intercourse, and the number of lifetime or current male sexual partners. The propaganda is so pervasive that fat people must fight not to believe it of ourselves. Although I am a sexual being, I am not an object.