Dating Dilemmas

by Sonic Purity

The Big Step

Nate was nervous—no question. He pulled off the hipster look effortlessly and well, yet in his heart of hearts knew he was pure Nerd Inside. He knew all the fatlovesex porn sites forwards, backwards, and sideways, and had hacked into more than a couple. (Never caught, ’cause he rolled white hat… well, maybe light gray.) He had just enough social and infinitely more technical chops to IM or do any other technology of chat with the best of ’em. He even knew some of the back alleys others had long forgotten: FTP, IRC, newsgroups. RPGs, no prob. But RL—problem… Really Big Problem.

He wasn’t shy about his FAness and wasn’t shy at all behind a technology wall. Yet put him in a room with real people and especially real women, and he’d bungle up every time. Give him enough rope, he’d hang himself—always. Usually he’d hang back, say as little as possible, and study everyone… fitting perfectly with his too-cool-for-thou appearance. But then, someone would pull him into the conversation, or he’d strike out and make a move and… strike out.

This was the 3rd. time he’d come out to the monthly Gravitational Goddesses Get-Together. Not once had he set foot inside. He’d settled for something much more comfortable: lurking. In the alley across the street, watching the other guests come and go. Every time, dying to actually go inside with the sexy BBW, even just to lurk and look. Every time, unable to make it happen. It was getting ridiculous.

Walking round and round the block wasn’t getting him anywhere. No… he had to Just Do It. After a really deep breath and a big shiver, he finally did it: he went through the door.

“Look what just walked in.” Nora motioned with her eyes towards the door.

Deb looked the guy up and down and replied, “Eh.”

The two distant friends were at their usual spot, under the lights behind what amounted to a table ring fortress, 2/3 of the way across the hall on the short diagonal from the front door. Close enough to see yet far enough away to remain aloof.

Though they’d known each other for several years now (mostly from sharing a common place of work) Nora and Deb weren’t besties. Each was a fiercely independent woman, living life on her own terms. Beyond each being fat and fearless, their aloof, ironic, sarcastic, somewhat negative decidedly punk life outlook gave them a comfortable point of commonality. That and each of them lacking other close friends who attended events like this led them to usually hover near each other.

Most of the house had given the new guy a once-over, as was typical when there was “fresh meat”. A few of the women judged him from a distance and immediately lost interest. A couple of others besides Nora and Deb held their distance but kept a wait-and-see attitude. Others geared up to play it more pro-actively.

“At least he’s new” Nora continued. “And generation-appropriate. Not yet another old dude with a bad case of MHS. I’d prolly do him.”

“I repeat: Eh. Wait, here we go… fat piranha mating school forming… iiiiiit’s show time!”

As usual, Diane, Carly, and Larissa made a beeline to the new guy, each in turn welcoming him in what some consider an all-too-friendly fashion.

“Desperate Diane going in for the make in 3… 2… 1…. Annnnd… Ooooh!—he takes the bait! Suckahhh!”

Not five minutes from entering the building, Nate was already dancing with a real, live BBW, who so far seemed to like him. He definitely liked her, mostly because she went out of her way to greet him then asked him to dance. She wasn’t the prettiest nor anywhere near the fattest and her skin was a bit pale, but she definitely had curves kickin’ and what she lacked in terms of pulchritude she more than made up for with motivation and initiative. It didn’t hurt that he had a thing for dark hair, and hers was quite nice.

To be honest, he hadn’t even really had a chance to fully look around. It was all overwhelming from the moment he stepped into the main room and was immediately descended upon by the D.C.L. trio. They all looked good enough to him, and every now and then he’d catch glimpses of the roomful of other beauties and those like him who love being with them.

Part of him was kicking himself for taking so long to actually go inside… if he’d known it would be this easy, he’d have plunged in weeks ago!

He and Diane didn’t get much past the name exchange and some meaningless chit-chat about him being new, how long she’d been attending, and what they did for a living. Each in their own way was too star-struck and afraid of making a mistake to say much. Nate because this was all new territory and due to his historic blunders; Diane due to profoundly, even clinically, low self-esteem. She’d long ago lost or buried her real self under a mountain of facades (and a healthy layer of protective soft flesh)—whichever one best suited her mate o’ the moment.

She didn’t want to give up her new-found man, but Carly tapped her shoulder and gave her the blinking smile to signal that she wanted to have a go at Mr. New.

“Snarly makes a play on protocol annnnnd… she gets it!” Deb continued her play-by-play. “Dude’s easy to please, apparently.”

“I’d say. Boner check: Affirmative.”

“Oh, looka that… he’s happy to see us.”

“Them. I haven’t seen his eyes focus past The D The C The L yet.”

“At least he doesn’t have to use pills to get there, like Triple Dub.”

Quite true. Waldo the Warthog Walrus, or WWW or Triple Dub was widely known for needing chemical assistance to be, uh, useful. Given his advanced age and obvious medical issues, no one was truly surprised. The true surprise was that over half the unattached (SS)BBW there had slept with him at one point or another over the years. At times, the manly FA pickings had been as thin as most of the FAs.

Unlike Diane, Carly had no self-esteem issues—at all. Confident, attractive, and fairly tall at 5' 11", she knew what she wanted and didn’t waste time getting it. She wasn’t in the greet trio for fear of losing out if she didn’t connect right away. She was there because she didn’t play games and saw no reason why she should wait for something—or someone—she might want.

Most men fell for her tidy medium-length bright natural red-orange hair, green eyes, and complimentary skin tone. Smooth and well-shaped, she looked good in almost anything almost all the time. Most FAs were drawn to her hips, ass, and breasts, though many became disappointed when they discovered she was a big-boned woman, so there wasn’t much depth to her softness and not as much jiggle as many other BBW. Almost all were disappointed—or worse—once they got to know her and found out she had sociopathic tendencies, the main reason she was still single and looking.

Nate found dancing with her exciting yet awkward. He didn’t seem to be able to follow her lead, and he sure wasn’t leading anyone anywhere himself. They chatted a bit and it seemed to be going OK until he put his hand on her waist.

Owuuuu! Saved by circumstance!” Deb announced.

“Look at his face” said Nora. “He has no idea what just went down.”

“He has no idea how lucky he is that he got Snarled so early in the night. He just spared himself a lot of grief.”

“Poor Snarly’s heading for yet another date with her vibrator.”

“She’d better get out to CostHo for a bulk pack of batteries before they close.”

The women smirked together with all the compassion of Patty and Selma Bouvier.

“Lardissa going for the make….”

“Activate hip sway.”

“First pass… awww, he didn’t see her! OK… second pass… Score! Makes the connect!”

“Could be her lucky night… his crotch tells us he’s into pears.”

“Hey, she’s alright… for not much upstairs.”

“No, that’s you. She was an honor student at Merde.”

“Merde” was actually Madre High School, which Nora had attended.

“No, dumbtwat… her chest.”

Larissa was indeed a pear, with an almost-average-sized body up top, tapering out down below to a double-wide pair of hips with matching rear, and more than a little low belly. Above her waist, the only real clues to her BBWness were her thick upper arms and just the slightest hint of a double chin.

Like pretty much every other female-attracted FA, Nate became mesmerized by her midsection. Yet things up above were good as well: she had a nicely-proportioned pretty face and an endearing smile, framed by chestnut brown hair. Tonight she was wearing contact lenses, yet her glasses were stylish without drawing attention to themselves, fitting her face and her overall look elegantly, and fulfilling the stereotype of making her appear as smart as she actually was (to those who associate glasses with intelligence).

He did a good job keeping his eyes mostly on her face, only occasionally being unable to suppress the force of his lust insisting he look lower. Exactly what she wanted: obviously totally into her body, but also so far into her as a person. She found his hip slender body delicious and his face and smile heavenly. They chatted for awhile as they danced, seeming to get along well. She’d watched the whole interaction with him and Carly, and thus made a point of taking his right hand and planting it squarely on the softest, fattest, sticky-outiest part of her left hip, smiling.

That might have been that and they could have been an item for the night, yet each yearned to explore other options. They parted amicably, Larissa heading off for a bathroom break.

“What is it with her?” Nora asked.

“What? That’s her usual move: keeping her options open. Same as you and me and most people here.”

“She goes home with someone pretty much every time–”

“–Also like us.”

“Thank you, Dr. Interruptus! She does what we do, except unlike us she seems satisfied with the guys and they seem down with her. Then a few months later, she’s back here looking.”

“I still don’t see the problem. She doesn’t want to get tied down. Do you?”

“No, but that’s the thing. She does want to get tied down—I’ve overheard her! She’s all about long-term and good wifey and all that. The guys who aren’t into it take off right here, no hard feelings. But some want what she wants… but it doesn’t happen. Something’s up with that, and I’d like to know.”

“Date her.”

“F You.” Nora gave Deb a back noogie.

Having passed through the D.C.L. gauntlet with good success, half an hour past entering, Nate was getting his first good overview of the whole scene. The DJ wasn’t bad and was certainly well-equipped. Gender balance at the club seemed pretty good, though with so many gradations of attraction and identity, it was difficult to be precise. A surprising number of white-hairs were in attendance, and it might have worked out well for them if more of the men and a few more of the women had stayed in their age group rather than going all redenbacher and cougar.

Some of the women he admired from a distance clearly didn’t find him attractive. Others distance-flirted briefly with their eyes, and he attempted to learn to reciprocate.

Now that the piranha trio was safely out of the way, over the course of the next hour a couple more women introduced themselves.

Tara had squiggly curly sand-brown hair and was quite jowly despite being mid-young like Nate himself. She tended to smile a lot, revealing amazingly beautiful dimples of a depth that he felt he could climb into. She had a rather standard a-bit-of-fat-everywhere BBW body, notable only for her small calves, feet, and delicate hands. They had a good time dancing and didn’t chat so much that Nate buried himself, and thus disengaged on good terms.

Aubrey was blonde, buxom, and supersized… other than hair color, all attributes Nate adored. She carried pretty much all her fat facing forward, and had very little happening for her butt.

“Ouch! She just gave him the finger prong.” By which Deb meant: she gestured with her two fingers that he should look at her eyes, not her breasts.

“Mr. Eh’s a boob man. Lucky you.”

“And an extremist. ‘Supersize or nothing!’ As if I care.”

Nora looked sideways at Deb remaining intently focused on the distant interaction, and held her tongue.

It was clear from across the room that there was some uncomfortable tension between Aubrey and Nate. Even so, their parting appeared quite friendly, especially Aubrey allowing a big hug, and the opportunity for Nate to sink deeply into her and feel a whole lot of her.

He wasn’t so desirable that he had all the women in the room throwing themselves at him, yet going from absolutely nothing to having danced with five real (SS)BBW in slightly over one and one half hour’s time, Nate felt almost drunk with power… or something. Well… other than lust, with which he’d been intoxicated for years.

He took a quick whiz break, briefly chatting with a fellow male FA about how awesome these dances were, and whether or not they’d each “get lucky” tonight. Nate himself didn’t really think about things quite that way and not with those words, though once brought up, it did lead his mind to wonder: was it possible for him? Especially on a first time out? He certainly hoped so, and riding high on his successes so far, decided to attempt to make it so.

After a liquid refreshment break, he returned to the main area of activity. Looking around anew, he noticed a whole other category of available options: the wallflowers. Some were of no interest, many were all good for dancing but not necessarily more. Then, he saw her: the woman who captivated him and made him momentarily forget all others.

She was in all black, jeans down below and a too-small Misfits skull t-shirt up top. The bottom roll of her large belly had no place to be as she sat other than beyond containment in any clothing, lying atop her thighs. Between her clothes, very dark brown eyes, and her dyed-jet-black hair, her teeth, eye whites, and the exposed skin on her hands, arms, face, and belly were the only not-dark parts of her. Decently big but not huge in the chest and below the waist, she mostly had BBW symmetry though by far her belly was her most prominent feature. The fact that it was so big that she couldn’t or wouldn’t contain it and she didn’t care made his hard-on rage.

She occasionally glanced around the room, including at him, but mostly focused on her phone’s screen and thumbing away—likely long streams of text characters, he figured from her thumb motion style and pacing. She was indeed truly texting, though mostly as a cover since he’d noticed her. Prior to that, she’d been looking around the room, taking it all in.

A direct come-on approach struck him as far too dorky and likely to end in failure. His instincts told him to slowly work his way closer to her, ever the cool observer, as came naturally to him.

Like a potted plant with legs, over the course of about ⅓ hour he casually worked his way close to her. She followed his every move, but gave him no sign and was careful to avoid eye contact.

Unsure how to proceed, he chose to sit down about 1½ average butt-widths away from her… about as close as he felt he could get away with. He turned, looked at her, and nodded. She reciprocated, then went back to her device.

Attempting to look at her screen would be beyond uncool. He needed another opening move. Realizing he had nothing, he again went with instinct. No doubt he’d mess up, but it had been a great night so far, so even if he got tossed out on his ear, it was still progress.


“Hey” she replied in kind, reverting her attention to her screen.

“Not into dancing?”

“Not unless there’s something worth dancing to. And someone asks me.”

“Seems like a lot of effort to come in here to sit and text and listen to someone else’s idea of good music. Maybe even pointless.”

“Just like the whole of life: pointless. Utterly pointless. Hence it hardly matters.”

{Mmmmm… goth or emo} he thought. {This could work.} “What kind of mgmbmgfbmnb–”—his sentence was cut off by the sudden volume increase of the music. It was getting close to final hour, and he was about to learn that it was the time when the music and dancing kicked up and those patrons so interested focused on their final hook-up decisions for the night.

She motioned him to slide over closer. He did, but not to the point of touching her. They still couldn’t hear each other, so she pulled him in close so they wouldn’t have to shout. “I don’t bite… unless asked nicely.” She flashed her sharp vampire-like incisors.


She smiled and nodded, then held out her hand. “Vanessa.”

“Nate” he said with a smile as they shared a gentle handshake. For a moment, he remained stuck with what was probably too goofy a smile. He needed to say something non-inane, fast…. Nope… nothing.

Vanessa turned her attention back to her phone. He felt grateful that she hadn’t moved away nor asked him to move away: they remained pressed together, hip-to-hip, as though they were a couple.

Nate struggled for several minutes to think of something to say.

Eventually, something came to him. “Noob question.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa answered without even looking up.

“Does the bar serve anything worth drinking?”

“Personally I wouldn’t get my lips on anything they serve, other than Jameson straight.”

“Want a shot?”

“Not at their price!” As soon as the words escaped her lips, Vanessa regretted being (in her own mind) such a social incompetent. Obviously this cute guy just offered to buy. She again stared straight back down at her phone, so hopefully in the darkness he wouldn’t see her blush.

“I’ll buy this round.” {D’OH! I am such an idiot!} he chastised himself, for the “this round” part of what may only be a single-time event. “I mean, if we have more… you’re totally worth it but I only have so much cash.”

She turned and looked him up and down with amused disdain deserving of the babbling idiot he was becoming. Still, she had to cut him some slack: as awkward as he was, at least unlike herself and others who interested her, he made a move for her. She’d seen him do the “plant with feet” thing: it endeared him to her. She hated the “walk in, hit it and quit it” brash guys. “If things go that way we’ll hit BevMo and do it right” she smiled.

“Lover boy’s floating on Cloud 9 over to the bar. Looks like Goth Girl played him” said Deb out of nowhere.

“What?” Nora replied, having been looking at several other guys in another part of the room. “Seriously, Deb? You’re still watching Eh?”

“Hey—he’s a noob and we both know how entertaining they can be. Oooh—two shots of Jameson… he may be playin’ with big bank.”

“Or be a horny noob in his first roomful of sexy and available thick chicks.”

Deb poked her friend to get her to pay attention, “Didja see his face when she drank it slowly and calmly in one go like it was tap water? Dude’s taking little dainty micro sips and I can see his buzz developing from here.”

“Over here” Nora poked her co-conspirator in return, more firmly. “Angeline’s accepted Kevin’s hit. Let’s see how long she goes before the drool drips onto her cleavage.”

“Look, when you’re big up top like me and Ang, shit happens. Lots of stuff drips onto mine.”

“Like the band?” Nate asked as he continued to nurse his Jameson shot, motioning clearly at Vanessa’s shirt.

“They were a band? I thought it was a generic for those of us who don’t yield to the lamestream.”

{One point off for musical knowledge.} “You’ve got a cute belly. Nice rack, too.”

Get away, jag-off! I’m a lot more than a bag of body parts!”

So ended Nate’s time with Vanessa. He promptly followed her demand, hoping no one had seen the push-off, momentarily lost in terms of how to proceed.

“You still watching that dude?” Nora asked Deb.


“Mr. ‘Eh’. The one you’ve been staring at most of the night.”

“Have not and what if?”

“You missed Handlebar and Creem.”


“Exactly my point: you totally haven’t seen them. Two other brand-new non-creepy non-ancient guys, each of whom has been here at least half an hour already. Handlebar’s the guy over there in the plaid button down short-sleeve with the outsized mustache.”

“No joke… thing’s twice as wide as his head!”

“Yeah” Nora purred. “I may need to find out what it feels like… various places. Hope he comes back, ’cause tonight I’m goin’ for Creem.”

“Who is?”

“Over there” she motioned with her eyes. “Chatting up Bev&Mo.”

“Yeah, OK… built, strong, smooth… just like a model. So?”

“Add brains, voice, and from all indications a good personality, and ya got Creem.”

“Named because?”

“That’s what he’s makin’ me do… so far. I’ll give him a go and learn more. Annnnd he’s headed this way. Later.”

Deb rolled her eyes as Nora made her successful approach and did the dance. There wasn’t much time left for tonight, and she had yet to do much beyond be a snarky voyeur.

For a moment as Nate’s eyes scanned the room, they and Deb’s met. Even from a good distance, each of them felt a bolt of energy—a connection. For Nate this was all new; for Deb, it was something she noticed and mostly took for granted. Far too many earlier initial connections of this nature led nowhere at all, or nowhere good.

Wholly unaware he was doing so, Nate’s eyes asked for permission. Deb’s look clearly let even his conscious mind know that she wasn’t into him and don’t even try. He looked away, continuing his scan.

DJ Dora worked the club to a fever pitch—it was nearly closing time. Time for those so inclined to pair off for the evening.

All over the room, men and women in various combinations sought out their first choices. As usual there were a few awkward situations where one person was re-approached by two other love interests at about the same time.

Having screwed up too badly with Vanessa, Nate skipped her as an option and looked around towards the few others with whom he’d interacted and ended on good terms.

Desperate Diane was wholly wrapped around a rather plain-looking guy, who apparently excelled at stroking her fragile ego. Larissa was equally occupied with a mysterious darker-skinned guy, whom even hetero Nate found a wee bit attractive.

He was surprised to discover that both Tara and Aubrey appeared available and, like him, looking. At that moment, a slightly older guy who was not at all shy about flashing trappings of wealth picked up where he’d left off with Aubrey. He smiled at Tara and headed right over.

“Any plans?” he asked with a smile as he approached, amazed he was able to spit the words out.

Tara’s stunning chipmunk-cheeked smile reached new heights (or depths). “Not so far. Is this an invitation?”

Nate swallowed hard. This is exactly what he wanted—as far as he knew—yet it was suddenly all real. No pause, no quit, no escape key. No wormhole to another realm. “Yes, if I can figure out how to tell you how awesome it would be to spend time with you, without getting my tongue tied in knots!”

Tara broke into nervous tittering—his words more or less mirrored her own feelings. She very much appreciated the tradition of the man making the move so she didn’t have to stumble over her own words and deal with rejection.

She took his hand and they slowly walked together towards the exit, eyes glittering, waiting until they were outside and could converse more easily before getting into specifics.

“Oh hey” Aubrey said to Nate (much more than Tara), as she bumped into him (intentionally, though she endeavored to make it seem otherwise) near the exit. “I was wondering what you had in mind for… now.” She saw him holding hands with Tara and didn’t care: she was confident, knew she was more attractive to most people, and knew that Nate was quite into her.

“Uh, well, uh” Nate stammered, unconsciously letting go of Tara’s hand as his mind and body struggled to figure out what to do. “I really don’t know whether boobs or cheeks wins tonight.”

That did it for Aubrey: this guy was just another horny dick. She took off in search of other failed transactions and her next opportunity.

Cheeks, huh?” Tara exclaimed, indignantly. “Ya gotta pick, playah!” she glared at him as she shoved him away and stormed off.

Nate didn’t need to buy a clue—he knew he’d epically fucked up, multiple ways, multiple times. As usual, with no intent to do so, he’d destroyed several opportunities with several very fine women, any one of whom he would have been happy to spend time with. He exited the club and started walking home.

He was far from alone going home on his own. Amongst the many others in that position (whether by choice or, like him, circumstance) was Double-D Deb (an older nickname. In recent times she was more of a 34G cup sexy top-heavy BBW, with enough belly, hip, and bun softness to please any reasonable FA as well as enjoy living the plush life from the inside). In her case it was mostly her aloofness and having already tried most of the attendees to whom she was attracted in the past which had her going home alone.

“Heh, luser noob!” she said out loud to herself as she drove past him, just before turning up the audio system and seat-dancing to some Fatboy Slim.