You’d be smokin’ hot if you lost weight

“You’d be smokin’ hot if you lost weight,” he said.  “I mean, you have great tits, and your ass is out of this world, but-”

“But you wish I had a flat stomach and slim thighs,” I finished the sentence for him.

“YES!” He nodded emphatically.  “See, I knew you’d understand.”

“No, I get it,” I said, “and I love the fact that you can be honest with me about stuff like this.  I cracked the car window, lit a cigarette, narrowed my eyes, and said, “Now, while we’re being honest, I gotta say, you’d be so much more attractive if you weren’t such a cheap bastard, John.”

“What?”  You looked confused.

“I mean if you could just shell out for a goddamn motel room for an hour so we could fuck like people, instead of having to do it on the hood of the car in a parking lot like animals.  Christ, John, even doing it in the car would be a step up.”

“This is my father’s car,” he said, “and don’t smoke in here.  It would be like fucking in their bed.”

“You know what, John, you’re not a real man.  You’re a little boy living in a man’s body.  You drive around in your Daddy’s car, you won’t pay for a motel so we can fuck properly, but you expect me to lift my dress over my head in a parking lot in the middle of December because you say so, or you want me to drop everything and come fuck you at your job on a Tuesday afternoon like I have nothing better to do.”

“All I said is you should lose weight,” he said, “and you’re bitching at me.”

“No you’re right, I should lose weight.  And I will, I’m gonna lose 180 lbs of ugly man-child right fucking now.  Pull the car over, this is where I get out.”

**************************************************************************************

That incident happened in April, and it was the last I saw of John & his Daddy’s car.  I mention it here, now, because I got a phone call from John last night.  He claimed he’s been thinking about me, asked me to text him pictures of my bare breasts.  I told him that if he wants to see a big boob, all he has to do is look in a mirror.  I may not have men lined up around the block, but still, I refuse to waste my time on someone who only likes parts of me.

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