Fat Girls and Shrimps

I wonder, if I held you in my mouth, if you’d want to come again? I’d regret it when it came time for you to leave. I’d probably have given myself at least one day for recuperation afterwards, and would ask if you could spend any time with me the next evening. […]She sat down in front of me. She was huge. A big girl. She must have weight in at a good 240 pounds, maybe 250. She had bought some cooked shrimp and was eating them cold over ice. She stuck an entire shrimp in her mouth & sucked out the meat discarding the cartilages on my floor. As she ate I watched her greasy fingers pop one shrimp after the other into her mouth & sucked down beers. Between shrimps she would tell me about herself, always passionate. I felt like her priest & rarely spoke at all. “I come from a big Southern family. 12 kids in all,” she said. “We lived on a farm. My mother raised horses. My father was a school teacher. He taught the learning disabled, huh?” “Is that right?” I said, because the moment was appropriate. “Yup. All boys, except for me.” “Huh.” “My father had a lot of affairs. He was always going to meetings and coming home drunk.” I finished my beer and got another. “So, when did you move out to Los Angeles?” “I’ve been out here for 3 years now. I came out to study law, but shit changes, you know?” “It sure does.” I said.

She let out a tremendous burp. “Say, you don’t have anything stronger than beer here do you?” “I’ve got half a bottle of whiskey.” I got her the bottle. She took a long pull, wiped her face & went back to the shrimp. I kept trying to remember whose friend she was. She arrived late last night at the end of the party, everybody was pretty darn drunk & she got up on the table to dance & it broke. Now it was just me and her. I got another beer.

“You like fat girls?” she asked. “Sure.” “What I got is glandular. I can’t be helped.” “O.K.” “I don’t like fat guys. Not for nothing, glandular or no glands at all. All fat guys look like lazy sons-of-bitches to me.” “Is that right?” “Yup. But everything I got is all woman. Nothing gets in the way. I could suffocate you with my pussy.” Strange enough, her talk was working. I got another beer. “I had this boyfriend once, a real skinny guy, like you, back in high school. God, I must have weighed 300 pounds back then.” “300?” “Maybe 340, who knows. I nearly killed him though, the first time we fucked. His whole body went blue. He got stiff, you know?” “Huh.” “Yeah. He broke it off the next day. Said his dad was real sick & he’d have to take care of him.” “Uh-huh.” “Yup.” She finished off the bottle. “I’m a bit lighter now.” “Uh-huh.” She searched her empty shrimp bowl 7 came up with an ice cube and started sucking. “How’s your knees?” I asked. “Never gave me any trouble.” I got another beer. When I made it back to the living room she had her top off, moving the cube around the edges of her nipples. I walked over to her & planted one right on those greasy red lips. She tasted like shrimp & whiskey. A sailor’s mouth. “You have any condoms?” she asked. “No.” “Well, I never get pregnant anyway. I’m too big. You clean?” she asked. “I think so.”

She pulled off her jeans. They were huge, like a warehouse. I ran my hand under her belly, but couldn’t find anything. She leaned back in the chair. “Here,” she said. I found something. A shrimp. Nice & cold. “MY GOD! MY GOD!” she screamed.

“I’m falling in love” I said.

©2003 – Gordy Amede

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