*When I was 14, possibly younger, I formed the "ideal woman" in my head. I knew she would be short---like around 5'3---and fat, like over 200 pounds. No specifics. Just "fat" and "short". Everyone's got their mental picture of "ideal mate", and that was mine. At the time, the net hadn't come into wide use, so there were no photos to judge from---all I knew were the girls from my hometown, and who I found myself attracted to.
(I should say my "ideal woman" wasn't just a body with no personality---I knew she would be funny, smart and kind. That goes without saying, but I'm saying it anyway!)
*When I was older and discovered magazines and online photos, I knew I wanted a woman whose stomach folded over---as far down as it could go. I didn't care about boobs, weight, behinds. I just wanted a woman with a nice, fat stomach. That sent me over the moon.
*As time went on, my idea of sexy expanded, and I discovered I was very much attracted to women upward of 300 pounds---and over 400 pounds. Not that I didn't like smaller women anymore---but I started realizing there was something primal that supersize women evoked in me; something about being surrounded by hundreds of pounds of flesh. Also, I was lucky enough to experience the objects of my desire in real life, not just in photos.
*And now, as a full-blown adult, I enjoy every aspect of big women regardless of size. I adore stretch marks, whether red or white or anything in between.
I love breasts that have begun a rapid plunge toward earth (making older women alluring to me) as well as the way they connect with a woman's back rolls. I am wild about cellulite; the more divots a woman has, the more turned on I am---I love to explore cellulite with a light brush of fingers, a sharp, sensitive tongue and to look at it as well.
I adore back-of-the-knee fat. I love "bunts", a vulgar term for women whose mons are so full of soft flesh that they form a combo of "belly" and the c-word.
I LOVE pudgy little fingers. I am wild about elbow fat hanging over onto arms. I love a thick double chin, chubby cheeks.
And the list goes on.
When you love something, you love it! And so my tastes have expanded, and I express that to you this morning, no April fool!
(I should say my "ideal woman" wasn't just a body with no personality---I knew she would be funny, smart and kind. That goes without saying, but I'm saying it anyway!)
*When I was older and discovered magazines and online photos, I knew I wanted a woman whose stomach folded over---as far down as it could go. I didn't care about boobs, weight, behinds. I just wanted a woman with a nice, fat stomach. That sent me over the moon.
*As time went on, my idea of sexy expanded, and I discovered I was very much attracted to women upward of 300 pounds---and over 400 pounds. Not that I didn't like smaller women anymore---but I started realizing there was something primal that supersize women evoked in me; something about being surrounded by hundreds of pounds of flesh. Also, I was lucky enough to experience the objects of my desire in real life, not just in photos.
*And now, as a full-blown adult, I enjoy every aspect of big women regardless of size. I adore stretch marks, whether red or white or anything in between.
I love breasts that have begun a rapid plunge toward earth (making older women alluring to me) as well as the way they connect with a woman's back rolls. I am wild about cellulite; the more divots a woman has, the more turned on I am---I love to explore cellulite with a light brush of fingers, a sharp, sensitive tongue and to look at it as well.
I adore back-of-the-knee fat. I love "bunts", a vulgar term for women whose mons are so full of soft flesh that they form a combo of "belly" and the c-word.
I LOVE pudgy little fingers. I am wild about elbow fat hanging over onto arms. I love a thick double chin, chubby cheeks.
And the list goes on.
When you love something, you love it! And so my tastes have expanded, and I express that to you this morning, no April fool!
