BIG GIRLS DON’T CRY
By
GRETCHEN LANE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY AUTHOR
Published by GRETCHEN LANE & DIVALICIOUS EROTICA
Edited by MELISA HEATHA
Copyright © 2012 by GRETCHEN LANE
This is a work of Fiction
All characters appearing in this eBook are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead, other than those in the public domain, is not intended and purely coincidental.
This eBook contains sexually explicit material and is intended for a mature audience.
All characters are 18 years or older. All sex within this story is consensual.
Visit GRETCHEN @ http://www.divaliciouserotica.com/
INTRODUCTION
“I’m sick of it, Michelle!” I cried into the phone.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” she comforted. Michelle has been my best friend since third grade, and truthfully, I don’t know how she puts up with me. Really, I don’t know how anyone puts up with me. I’m just fat and pathetic, and today was the world’s way of letting me know it.
The crowd erupted into laughter when the first fat joke was yelled from the passing car. They fell silent when the 32 oz. soft drink hit my face with a loud smack, before splashing to the ground. I stood soaking wet, stunned, and humiliated. My embarrassment quickly turned to pain, and I wept openly. Not one person asked me if I was okay. I ran home to my apartment, where in a moment of frustration and hurt I actually contemplated suicide. And, then I felt stupid, like I always do. I mean, I guess I should be used to it by now. It’s been happening since I was in the third grade. That’s when I got my nickname, ‘The Pillsbury dough girl.’
My mom told people the reason I ate so much, was I lost my dad at such a young age. He passed away from a heart attack when I was five years old. That’s when I started comfort eating, Mom says.
Anyway, I didn’t kill myself. Instead, I called Michelle.
~ ~ ~
“Don’t talk like that, Gretchen! God! It makes me want to kill those guys! Who does that to another human being?”
“Don’t be mad at them. It’s my own fault.”
“What are you talking about?” Michelle screams. “Are you serious?”
“I’m totally serious. I’m the one who made me like this. I shouldn’t be taking the bus anyway. I should be walking to work. It’s only like three or four miles. It would probably do me good.”
“You know what, Gretchen,” Michelle states sternly. “It probably would. But, that doesn’t change the fact that those assholes were wrong. And YOU, did NOTHING wrong. Do you understand that?”
“Yeah, I know,” I answer, meekly. “Truthfully, I just want to start the whole day over.” Which means, when I get off of the phone I will chase away the day’s horrible events with a half-gallon of my favorite ice cream.
“Well, let me know where you want to go workout tomorrow. I’m ready for a good one,” Michelle said, on queue. She’s always in for a few classes. She knew that’s all it will take, and I’ll be over it and back to being my old self… Nice, funny, ‘She would be pretty if she lost some weight’, Gretchen.
“I will.”
“And, don’t eat and go to bed! Do something different this time, okay?”
“Okay,” I sniffle.
“Promise?”
‘Shit.’ I hated when she made me promise. “I Promise.”
“Call me later.”
“I will.”
“K, love you.”
“Love you too. Michelle, wait!”
“What!”
“Thank you.”
“Stop it. You don’t have to thank me. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye”
I close my phone, rubbing the sore spot on my face. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a black eye tomorrow. ‘Great, that’s just what I need. People at work thinking my fake boyfriend beats me up.’ I know it’s stupid, but I didn’t want the fact, that I’m a twenty-four year old virgin, being spread around my office… Meet Jack, my now abusive boyfriend.
I’ll just tell everyone I kicked him out for doing it. It’s getting too hard explaining why he never comes to office parties anyway.
‘Do something different this time.’ Michelle’s words play in my head.
‘Join a gym fat ass!’ A voice in the car had yelled before the soda was thrown.
CHAPTER ONE
I had been standing outside for half of an hour, before walking up to the front door of the fitness club. Now, I’m standing looking at my reflection in the glass and I’m frozen solid.
‘Open the door, Gretchen. Open the door.’ My heart is racing and I’m not sure which I’m going to do first, throw up or pass out. ‘What if I pass out, and then I throw up? Will I suffocate? Will anyone give a fat girl mouth to mouth? OH GOD, I can’t do this!’ I let go of the door and turn to leave.
“Let me get that for you,” he said, reaching around me, and pulling open the door. I watched as the muscled arm stood flexed, holding it open. I was trapped between him and my escape to the Dairy Queen— and I felt like he was reading my mind, as he tried herding me back inside.
“Oh thank you,” I said, avoiding eye contact. “I was-I was just leaving.”
“What? You don’t like the club?”
“No, it’s fine. I forgot something in the car.”
“Well, make sure you come back, ok? You’ll like it here. I promise” he replied, with a wink as I looked up. He was gorgeous. Too gorgeous, and I looked away quickly as I slipped past him, hurrying away in a fluster.
I don’t do well with good looking men, especially when they talk to me. I get extremely nervous and I think I digress at least 50 I.Q. points. I start to stutter, getting all tongue tied and weird. I hate it. My girlfriends get a big kick out of it though. I swear they’ve paid guys to come up and talk to me at clubs. It’s pretty amusing, I guess.
I stood hidden outside another fifteen minutes before I got up enough courage to try again. This time I made it all the way to the empty front desk of the gym, spurred on by the voice of the handsome stranger at the door. ‘Well, make sure you come back, ok? You’ll like it here. I promise’.
It’s still pretty early in the morning and the place is quiet except for a few people working out, and a small group of male trainers huddled under a wall mounted T.V. on the far side of the gym. My back is to the group, and I watch in a mirror as they stand talking about the sporting event on the television, and contemplating who is going to come and help me. Normally, a group of trainers would be all over a 5’8” woman who weighs 248 pounds coming into your gym. But, they know me. I’ve been in here before. Not once. Not twice. But, three times. And every time, I’ve spent two hours with a salesperson, who showed me around the gym, made me run on a treadmill until I wheezed, kicked my ass on ten different machines, and while I sat there green at the gills ready to puke, told me how close I was to dying. Then they offered to not only save my life, but at the same time turn me into a totally un-realistic, skinny model.
‘Wow! I’m in!’ I accepted, before they showed me the twelve thousand dollar, one year program price tag.
‘Do you have anything for struggling college students?’ That’s when I got my first two week pass. I used it one day, each time before dropping out. So, it’s no wonder nobody wants to help me now.
I embarrassingly wait at the counter for five minutes pretending to be interested in the piles of supplements being offered for sale. Just looking at the before and after pictures makes me want to buy some of the life changing powders and elixirs. But, I won’t. I know it all works, but you have to actually workout when you use them. Something, I don
’t do. Not yet, anyway. ‘Man, somebody is making a killing off of this stuff,’ I think, looking at the astronomical prices. ‘It’s cheaper to be fat!’ I’ve told Michelle before, when we emptied out my cupboards of tons of partially used expired jugs and bottles of the same products I’m looking at now.
‘Not emotionally,’ she would reply. That’s why I loved her so much. She was the best friend a woman could ask for.
The group of trainers slowly disappears into another area of the gym, and I realize I am not going to be helped. I’m feeling sick to my stomach as I walk to the door of the club. I just want to get out of here quickly, before anyone else has time to laugh at me for even thinking about coming in. I can hear them chuckling in my head and I start to panic. My legs move faster as I begin running for the door. My vision blurs, slowly turning into a spiraling tunnel and I pass out.
~ ~ ~
“Hello! Miss! Miss! Can you hear me? Can you hear me?” A voice echoes loudly in my head.
“Dude. I think she’s dead.”
“No way. There’s too much fat around her neck. Probably saved her from breaking it when she fell.”
“I know. I heard the thud from the back of the club,” another voice speaks, and laughter follows.
“Shut up! Both of you.”
“Sorry, Billy.”
“Me too, Bro.”
I struggle to open my eyes.
“Shhh! She’s coming to!”
“Still want me to call the ambulance, Billy?”
“Ambulance?” I speak softly. “No, no ambulance.”
“Whoa, just lay still. You took a pretty nasty fall, kiddo.” A firm hand holds me down as I try sitting up. “We’re going to have them come and check you out. Just to be safe, okay?”
“Okay.” I speak— my head spinning. Slowly my vision returns, and I realized the man sitting over me is the same guy who opened the door earlier. Just is my luck. I see a good looking man and instead of being able to talk to him, I pass out and crack my skull open. Not literally, but right now I hope it is, so they take me away quickly.
But it’s not, and they don’t. It takes the EMT’s over 20 minutes to arrive.
Don’t worry it’s just a fat chick. Take your time…
~ ~ ~
By the time they arrive, I’m sitting against the wall with an ice compress on my forehead— looking like a complete dork, I’m sure.
I pay no attention to the EMT un-wrapping the blood pressure reader from my arm. I’m too busy looking over the large ice pack at the good-looking man, Billy, who is now scanning in new arrivals for the 10:30 kick boxing class.
“Gretchen Lane. I’m Twenty-four, and, it’s Monday the twenty-first of May,” I tell the young man taking my vital signs. ‘Is he going to be teaching the class?’ I wonder of Billy.
Of all of the times I’ve come to take a class, this is the only time I wish I actually could.
Billy has a hard time keeping his attention on the desk as he continues looking over, monitoring my situation.
The line of new arrivals ends, and I shrivel from the realization he’s walking over to me. He’s tall and muscular, and moves confidently through a domain he’s clearly comfortable being in— Large and in charge. ‘Not me. I’m just large.’ I kid myself to keep from panicking.
I’ve always lacked self-confidence. I think that’s why I find it so attractive in others.
“Is she going to live?” he asks, completing my self-mortification.
I hide from his perfect smile by placing the ice pack firmly over my face, and mumble from underneath, “Unfortunately.” I’m sure my face is beet red. ‘It’s from the ice pack!’ I want to scream.
An EMT gives Billy the thumbs up, and his partner continues closing up their gear and preparing to leave. Billy walks them to the exit of the gym, shaking hands, and thanking them for the help.
He’s not smiling as he walks back, and I can only imagine what’s going on in his head. ‘Is she going to try and sue us?’
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to try and sue the gym,” I state as he returns.
The smile comes back to his face. “Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to see us get sued over not having someone present to catch our fainting guest.”
“True,” I say, with a light giggle.
“Tell you what I would like to do for you, though.”
“What’s that?”
“When you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to offer you a couple of complimentary sessions with one of our trainers… By the way my name is, Billy.” A large hand extends out. I look past to the beautiful smile.
“Gretchen,” I respond, taking his hand. His grip is strong and firm, but he’s tender as he holds my hand, shaking lightly. “I would like that. But, I’ve already been given the free sessions the first time I came…And, I didn’t join,” I say, waiting for the heave ho I always get when they realize there is no money or sales to be had.
“That’s okay. I’m the fitness manger. I’ll give you a couple more. Maybe you’ll join this time.” His hand squeezes mine tightly. “Let me help you up,” he offers. I push with all of my leg strength, trying to lighten the load, and he effortlessly pulls me to my feet with a quick tug.
The fast accent sends my head spinning— One second I’m standing looking at his face, and the next I’m nestled on the small patch of hair rising out of his white tank top.
“Hold on champ!” He says, catching me in his arms. He holds me firm, keeping my body from slipping to the floor. He’s strong, and I can feel his thick chest muscles through the thin fabric of the shirt. A light odor of spicy cologne fills my noise, and I breathe in deeply, as my head clears.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess I’m still dizzy.” I pause for a moment, before trying to push away.
“Here, wait one sec. Let’s make sure you’re okay.” He holds me closely and my heart races.
‘Please don’t let him feel that.’ I don’t want him to know how excited I am to be embraced by a man. I can’t even remember the last time I was held by anybody other than a family member.
My large breasts are smashing against him, and I feel my nipples responding as they grow hard. I watch as Billy slowly pushes me away. His eyes are deep blue and he stares intensely as he slowly backs me up. He smiles with the corners of his lips turning up, as his eyes travel down to my over-sized breasts. Looking down, I see my erect nipples extending out through the sheer fabric of my white blouse. When I look up, Billy is smiling as he watches unashamed.
“I’ll do it, if you train me,” I say nervously.
“Absolutely,” he answers, smiling and quickly glancing again at my breasts. “Here is my card. Call me when you’re ready. And, don’t make me come looking for you. Or else,” he smiles again, and I’m pretty sure I already love him. Not really, but oh my God.
“I won’t,” I say, backing away like a young school girl. Stumbling, I trip over the turned up edge of the rug at the front of the door, before turning and quickly exiting the gym.
Outside, I stand against the wall breathing deeply. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, and I can barely catch my breath, as I wait for Michelle to answer the phone.
“Hello.”
“OH MY GOD! You’re not going to believe what happened to me today!” I scream into the little receiver.
I spend the next fifteen minutes telling Michelle about the hot trainer and everything that happened.
“He was even staring at my boobs. Can you believe that?” I ask, happily.
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’d be comfortable with that, Gretchen.”
“Oh, please. I wish more men would stare at them. Oh God, he was gorgeous! Tall, over six feet, I’m sure. Muscular, handsome, and he was so nice to me.” I close my eyes and take in a deep breath trying to calm down from this self-attained high.
The conversation ended with me promising Michelle I would be careful, and not get too attached.
“Remember what happened the last
time someone showed an interest in your boobs,” she said.
“You’re right,” I agreed. Remembering a sexually aggressive boss I once had. He had obsessed over my large breasts, and offered a lot of perks if I would allow him certain privileges with them. In a moment of weakness I gave in, and before I knew what was happening he had torn open my blouse and ejaculated onto my hanging breasts. He was embarrassed afterwards and ran out of the room, leaving me alone in his office, my breasts covered in semen. I was fired a week later. I should have sued, but I was too scared.
This was different though. I mean maybe Billy was just trying to get me to buy training. I didn’t care. I liked him and I wanted to be around him.
CHAPTER TWO
The soft hum of the vibrator comes from underneath the sheets as it slides between the already moistened lips of my virgin pussy. I’ve been lying here fingering myself as I picture Billy licking me. I’m soaking wet and ready to send myself into ecstasy with my new toy.
If I wasn’t so absolutely sexually frustrated when I left the gym earlier, I doubt I would have had the courage to go into the sex shop in the first place.
‘You should get yourself a vibrator,’ Michelle said.
‘NO WAY! I could never go into a place like that,’ I replied.
But, I did today— and, as it buzzes across the swollen hood of my clitoris, I wonder why I’ve waited so long.
‘Oh my God! This is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt.’ Tiny spasms shot through my body and I can feel my juices running down my pussy. My body trembles almost uncontrollably lifting my ankles off of the bed. In my mind I can see Billy’s face looking down at me. I pull my knees in tightly, spreading my legs wider, exposing my tender inner flesh— I want it so badly, to feel him… touching me, kissing me, licking me.
Panting deeply, I press harder on my clit, rubbing furiously I’m almost there. I close my eyes tighter, pressing the device even harder on my now swollen clit. Oh God, I can feel it, I’m going to cum. I close my eyes and with a long moan I reach an almost earth shattering climax. I watch as my body twitches and giggles with the orgasm, holding the vibrator at my hole.
Big Girls Don't Cry Page 1
