AUTHOR = JAX
E-MAIL = JAX@jaustin1.fsnet.co.uk
I've had enough. When some stranger refers to you as that 'fat girl', it's time to do something about it. Well, I may be a few pounds overweight but I'm not that bad. My boobs are big and bouncy, now at 44, with a DD cup; my waist may have a few extra inches, let me see... oh my god 38; and my hips are 48. No wonder I haven't had a boyfriend for awhile. Okay, a diet is called for. A slice of toast and black coffee for breakfast, a thin sandwich with an apple for lunch, and a big dinner in the evening, mostly of vegetables. I can live with that, I think. I'm not interested in weight loss, just inches.
I sort out my clothes into ones that fit me now, ones that are a bit tight, and those that I can't get into anymore. My goal is to get into those white jeans and tank top at the end of the rail, the ones I wore on that great holiday I had with Paul; thinking of Paul brings a tear to my eye.
It's pay-day, almost a month since I started this bloody diet. After a long soak in the bath, I stand in front of my mirror, knowing that my clothes are definitely looser now than they were. I look critically at myself. Out comes the tape measure, pull it tight, right -- bust 42, waist 36, and hips 46. Great that inches are off all around. Time to try some of my old clothes. I find an older bra that fits okay, but try as I might I can't find any knickers to fit. Okay, new knicks tomorrow. Now that tight dress... yes, still a bit tight but it fits. I buy six pairs of new knickers and carry on with my regime. Although I'm now wearing different clothes, no one notices my weight loss. Still it's early days.
It's pay-day again, and I know I have lost weight. My bras are very loose and I don't fill the cups like a used to. In front of the bedroom mirror again I measure myself -- 40-34-44. Not bad, and probably now a D-cup. I turn and look at myself. My boobs, always my best feature, now stand out proudly with little droop. Time I started going out more often, wearing my older sexier clothes now that they fit me again; those white jeans are still a distant dream. I rummage though my drawers and find my old photo album, '1997 summer holiday'. There I was on the beach, spilling out of my little bikini; and there was Paul, the bastard.
It's pay-day again and my monthly ritual begins. The tape measure tells its own story -- 40-30-42. My bust is still holding up but I have lost inches everywhere else; time for some new knicks again. For the first time I try on those jeans. Hey, I can get in them, even if I can't do them up. I'm feeling good about myself now and I notice men looking at me again -- I've missed that -- and I get a date. Bill, from Sales, asks me out for a drink. I take care to dress okay, using one of my new front opening bras. Well, you never know, I could get lucky.
Bill picks me up and we end up in this private drinking club, where he's a member; I have a great time. I had forgotten how nice it could be to be entertained by a man; the drinks flowed, a really cheap bar and I'm well away. Bill takes me home and he finds the clip on my front opening bra. Soon my new knickers are off and he's feeding me a good six inches of heaven. My god, my vibrator never felt this good. Just in time I tell him to pull out for I haven't been taking my pills for months. I take him in my mouth and he spurts down my throat. We hug for a bit, then he kisses me and goes home. I wonder how many calories there are in his sperm. I must remember to start taking my pills again at the start of my next cycle.
It's pay-day again and out comes the tape. I have been taking a fair amount of exercise this month, what with my dates with Bill, but this must be offset by my drinking -- 38-28-40. Yes, not bad. Now, if I can lose those few inches off my hips, I'll be happy. One new thing this month, for the first time I have a gap between my thighs. I can't put it off any longer. I need some new clothes that will fit my smaller frame. First up are bras. I got away with taking in the side straps for long enough. Yes, the sales girl confirms, I'm still a D-cup. Good, and a firm D-cup at that, Miss cheeky bitch. Being smaller up top I can now buy some very sexy bras. 'Hello Boys', you know the ones. Knickers come next. Six pairs of 26-28 inch waist ones. Now my bum looks less fat. I try out a pair of jeans; perhaps not, not just yet. I settle for some very short skirts -- my thinner legs are looking good and shapely -- and some tight T-shirts to show off my firm bust.
As well as Bill, Tony from Accounts has asked me out, lovely. Tony is very nice, always wears a suit and drives a big car, with a spacious back seat. Unfortunately he has a wife too, but I don't care, just as long as he's got enough left for me. Man is he built, at least eight inches of hardness. He can really ream me out. We are parked in this industrial estate after a very nice meal. I can't wait to get started so I pull my thin top off and unbutton my bra. His hands begin to fondle me, oh that's nice. After a bit my knickers are hanging off one ankle and Mister Big is thrusting between my open thighs. I can feel him spurt inside me. That brings me off as well.
It's pay-day again and out comes the tape. I have been very naughty this month, and I've been taking Bill and Tony on alternate nights for most of the month. Well at least that must have burned off all the nice food and drink they have been feeding me -- 37-26-37. I don't remember being this thin since I was at school. Yes those white jeans fit if still a bit tight, but I don't care. Time to dump Bill and Tony and look for a new man; his name is Andy.
I dress carefully for our first date. I don't want to give him the wrong impression. My skirt is not too short and I wear one of my work bras. Andy is beautiful. I could really, really go for him. I met him at a one-day conference from work. Although he tries to get my legs open on our first date, I slap his hand away, oh my. My vibrator gets a big workout this night and I almost phone Tony up too, but I hold on. I play the inexperienced virgin for weeks, using up loads of batteries in bed every night. Each date I let him have access to more and more of my body until, at last, I think it right to open my legs for him. In fact, he stays the night, pumping into my wet pussy again and again.
It's pay-day again. I'm getting really fed up with this diet, but it has been effective. The tape doesn't lie -- 37-25-36. That'll do for me. I can even do those bloody white jeans up. On the downside, my boobs are down to a C-cup. But they are really firm now and they look good. Andy is staying with me most weekends and giving me a good workout in bed. I'm still playing the inexperienced virgin character, so not to frighten him away. I do play his games but only after a period of reluctance.
He loves to tie me up and ravage my defenseless body or photograph me almost naked; oh he is lovely though. I even meet his parents, so he must be keen. I start to wear more revealing clothes at his insistence. Well, I don't mind really; I'm looking good. He likes me braless when we're out in company. Good job my boobs are up to it, if you pardon the pun. And he is making noises about a threesome with one of his mates. That's something new. Up to now I've always taken them on one at a time, but the thought of two hard cocks servicing me sounds nice. Not that I tell him that, of course, that wouldn't fit in with my new persona. If he wants me to do it, it will cost him, and my price is a ring on my finger.
THE END
