Back in the early nineties, I was a fat slob who desperately longed to know the feel of vaginal flesh against my cock. Being a virgin in your mid-twenties is a bitch. I used to go to the local video store to rent chick flicks, just so I could impress the girl working behind the morning counter. She'd ring up my copy of Pretty Woman, as I lied about having to watch movies like that because my old lady forces it on me.
"Yeah, the old ball-n'-chain is really getting on my nerves, I'd get rid of her if she wasn't so damn fine, ya know?" I'd blurt out loud enough for her and the rest of the store to hear.
"Uh-huh," she'd respond dryly, bagging my movie while avoiding eye contact with me.
"Yeah, hopefully she appreciates me sittin' through this shit enough for me to get some of that sweet pussy of hers," I'd bellow. "It's gonna be a long night, if ya catch my drift."
"Have a nice day, sir."
Her monotone voice always cut like a knife, such disdain for me and my fat man-tits. I'd dream about what it was like to be with a woman like that; to have her shit in my mouth, to drink her piss on ice, and chew the fresh period blood out of her used tampons. I'd give anything to stick her toenail clippings up my penis hole. It was a passion so deep, it can only come from decades of emotional desperation and physical ugliness.
I'd always watch whatever stupid chick-flick I happened to rent while jacking off. At least that way I could tell the pretty girl at the counter I got laid while viewing it, hey, it was at least a half-truth. I eventually got a girlfriend, but she's uglier than shit, and even fatter than me. We're just two gross social rejects who settled for each other because we're too grotesque to get anyone else. Sometimes, while I'm banging her, I think back to that beautiful woman standing behind the counter at the video store. It would've been so nice to gargle her diarrhea chunks while jacking off with her vomit. Oh, well. I guess fat fucks like yours truly will never get to experience a loving relationship.