Love At Every Size

by Jordan, Jesse

  I grin, unplugging the computer from the projector and putting it to sleep. “You did a great job. Just one complaint. I’m right on most of it?”

  Denise laughs, coming over and taking my hand. “Yeah, most. I’m not a mother, goofball.”

  I grin, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her soundly. “No, you’re not. You could be when the time’s right though. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Instead, let’s celebrate Saturday. It’s Cathy’s grandmother’s birthday, so she’s going to spend the day with her mother at grandma’s. The old lady hates me, always has.”

  “Probably knew what a scoundrel you are,” Denise teases, reaching down and squeezing my butt through my jeans. “But you got assets that make up for it. What’s your plan?”

  “Spend the day with me, let’s go for a bike ride. Nothing too crazy, I’m not a great rider, but let’s just have some fun. What do you say?” I ask, feeling a bit nervous. I just want Denise to enjoy using her body again, and I want to let her feel comfortable getting out again. I can see the doubts in her eyes, and I speak up quickly. “I promise Denise, if you don’t have fun, we stop and we go hit up a spa and do mani pedis or we go to a movie or something. I just want to spend time with you.”

  Denise smiles a little hesitantly, then nods. “Okay. Saturday, can you pick me up at nine o’clock?”

  “Nine is perfect, we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves. Thanks,” I say, leaning down and kissing her soft, wonderful lips again. “Now, let’s get this crap back to your car so that we can get some sleep.”

  “Sadly, not together,” Denise says, then blushes. “God, you make me feel like I’m a teenager again. I can’t help it.”

  I grin, and pinch her butt through her pants. “Who says I’m any different? But I have a babysitter waiting on me, so I can’t delay much longer. Come on, and I’ll make it up to you Saturday.”

  Chapter 16

  Denise- A Good Sweat

  I haven’t been this nervous in a long time, and I’ve had to twice stop myself from going back into my closet to find some of my ‘safety sweats’ as I call the loose, baggy clothes that I’ve worn when I’ve felt at my most vulnerable, the times when I was tempted the most to fall back into the old patterns, the ones where I hated my body.

  But dammit, I’m nervous! Sure, Louden made it seem so easy when he asked me out in the classroom, but now, looking at myself in the mirror while wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and an old pair of running shoes that I keep around only because they’re comfortable to go shopping in, I feel like an idiot.

  How am I supposed to keep up with Louden on a bicycle? He might not be a trained rider, but he can leave me gasping and sweating in the dust in minutes if he wants to with those muscular, sexy thighs of his!

  I sigh, and reach for my scrunchie to at least try and keep my hair out of my eyes when my doorbell rings, and I open up to find Louden outside, a smile on his face and looking sexy as hell in his own t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hey, you look great!”

  I can’t help it, the eagerness and honesty in his voice makes me blush, even though I know I should tell him that he should be complimenting me about something besides my looks. You know, feminism and all, but it feels good to have him attracted so openly to me. “Thanks. Uh, so are we ready?”

  “Almost,” Louden says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of sunglasses. “Here, I’ve never seen you with a pair and it’s a bright day out today.”

  I laugh and hand them back, shaking my head. “I’ve got a pair. Let me go get them, and we can get going.”

  He drives us to a rather normal looking neighborhood about a quarter mile from the river, and I’m surprised when he pulls up in front of a plain looking, if nice, two story Colonial style house on a decent sized lot. “I thought we were going bike riding?”

  “We are,” Louden says. “I asked a friend of mine to drop off the bikes here, since I didn’t have one built for a woman and mine needed work. This is my house.”

  I blink, taking a look at the place. Being a basketball coach does pay pretty well, it seems. Mount Reston isn’t deep in the rich areas of Virginia, houses are nowhere near as expensive as they are a little farther north near DC, but still... “It’s a nice house.”

  “Thanks, but I gotta admit that I got it on a sweetheart deal,” Louden says without a trace of shame. “The property’s owned by one of the big Mount Reston boosters, a real estate developer who damn near gave me the property when I became a graduate assistant. The NCAA doesn’t let players take bennies from boosters, but a coach? They don’t care that I got a house for a chunk under fair price on a personal loan that’s got a stupidly low interest rate. I’d feel bad about it too, except that it lets me give Cathy a bedroom of her own, complete with My Little Pony sheets on her bed... and I’ve got a man cave too.”

  His funny little admission makes me laugh for some reason, and I relax a little, taking his hand when we get out. “Thanks.”

  “For what? Admitting that I’ve got a man cave filled with Cheeto-dust?” Louden asks, and I shake my head.

  “For helping me relax. You’re very good at that, you know. I think I might actually enjoy this bike ride.”

  Louden grins, pointing. “Then you’ll love these. Check ‘em out.”

  In the dirt parking area behind the house, I see two vehicles that I’ve never seen before, they look like exercise bikes almost, the leaning back type. “What the hell are these?”

  “Recumbent mountain trikes,” Louden says, going over and tugging on the whip antenna on one of the trikes that has a bright orange safety flag attached to the top, watching it sway back and forth as he lets it go. “I always wanted to try one of these since I saw them in a video on Youtube, and with my bike being in the shop for a new bracket, I thought it’d be a great time to try it out.”

  I don’t know if he’s being honest or just trying to make me feel better, but as we get started on the funky little trikes, I have to admit I’m having a blast. There’s no seat post up my butt, the steering is easy to adapt to, and Louden doesn’t push the pace. Staying in an easy gear, we make our way to a nearby state park that borders the river, enjoying the jogging trails.

  When I start to sweat, I glance over to see Louden sweating too, a grin on his face as he looks over. “What do you think?”

  “I could ride this thing to work every day if I didn’t think the SUVs would turn me into a grease spot!” I laugh back, clicking down a gear. “Come on, I’ll race you to the next grassy hill!”

  I pour it on, pushing harder as I just let go, enjoying the rush of seeing how fast I can get this thing moving. As I do, I remember the enjoyment of the days when I’d done powerlifting or other sports and had felt the rush of accomplishment when I hit a difficult shot, when I lifted a new personal record.

  Some of my happiest times in sports were when I had nobody watching me but me, and I did it because I liked doing it, nothing more.

  It’s like that now, and as I start climbing a hill and the burn starts to kick in I bear down, gritting my teeth in a manic smile as Louden keeps up with me, not zooming by like I’d expect but still straining, his own face showing his effort as we crest the hill and I see the grassy area up ahead. In a final burst of effort we race towards it, Louden just pulling ahead a little at the end to win our ‘race.’

  “Whooo!” Louden declares as we stop, breathing hard. “Damn Denise, you can fly on that thing when you want to!”

  I wipe my forehead, looking at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? You’re the one who won!”

  “You didn’t make it easy,” Louden says, reaching behind his seat to the little cargo bag that the trike gives us to pull out two bottles of Gatorade and hands one to me. “No joking, I was pumping hard.”

  I smile and take a sip of the Gatorade, climbing off the trike and stretching my legs some. Pumping hard, huh? I happen to like that particular phrase. “Well, let’s enjoy your win and the breeze,” I say, turning
around and feeling my breath catch. “Wow....”

  I hadn’t meant to when I challenged him, but we’ve chosen a great site for our break. The hill is grassy almost all the way down and overlooks the river below. I can see a rowing crew, probably one of the college teams, out getting a workout in, the yelling of the coxswain just barely audible in the relative quiet. Louden comes over and stands next to me, taking in the view. “It is pretty.”

  “Have a seat,” I offer, and we sink down into the grass, enjoying the afternoon sun and our drinks. “Thank you again, Louden. You’ve made this a great date.”

  “I’m glad,” he says simply, sipping his drink. “Thank you for making it a great date too. I was worried I’d look like an idiot with the trikes. But I’m having fun, and you... well, I know I’m not supposed to focus on your looks and all, at least that’s what someone told me on campus once back in the day, but you look pretty, and you make this a lot of fun.”

  “It’s okay to say I look pretty,” I reassure him. “You respect my mind as well, so it’s not like you just want to get in my pants.”

  “Getting in your pants is fun too,” he teases, and I feel a warmth that has nothing to do with the sun or the bike ride grow inside me.

  “It is,” I finally answer. “Louden, can I ask you about something? The video for the football team, it was a little different than what we’d agreed on. Why’d you make the change?”

  Louden thinks for a moment, draining half his Gatorade before he answers. “Denise, we talk most of the time about acceptance of different body types, but we just take it as it being right just because. And while it is right, I wanted to explain to those boys why it was a good thing.”

  “And why is it a good thing?” I ask curiously. “I mean, I just want to hear your point of view.”

  Louden smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Denise, we’re all meant to be special and unique. Growing up the way I did, the thing I hated most was trying to fit in with everyone else. And yeah, I know physically I’m the ‘type,’ but being the so-called dumb kid, I still didn’t fit in a lot of ways. The whole time, before I found out about my dyslexia, all I could think of was why? Why wasn’t I good enough for all these people who wanted me to change? I couldn’t read, but I could write poetry on the basketball court. I could read sports like there was nothing to it. What made me so wrong? And I saw that in the people around me, too. I’m not saying I’m perfect, but hell, you’re beautiful, Denise. And I don’t want to make you jealous, but so’s my ex, Lana. But you two couldn’t be more different physically. It doesn’t make you more or less attractive to me than her.”

  “So the players?” I ask, touched. I really have to see a picture of this Lana some day, just for curiosity’s sake. It’s funny, most women would be jealous or worried about Louden talking about his ex, but there’s something in the way she says it that makes me totally reassured. “What do you want to show them?”

  “I want them to understand that, too. People need each other, Denise. The world needs the skinny people, the short people, the tall people, the big people. We need the nerds and the jocks, we need the whole gamut of opinions. Because if we don’t, and if we can’t respect that need, the world’s a very boring place. I know since meeting you, my life’s been a lot better.”

  I reach over, taking his hand. “Me too. Come on, let’s head back, my tummy’s grumbling and it’s saying you’re ordering Chinese food.”

  “Oh, really? Well, since I won the race, I get to choose the flavor on the fried rice,” Louden says with a smile.

  We ride back, taking our time and just chatting, talking about nothing vital, work and television and other minor distractions. The important thing is the looks we share, the little glances that tell me that his words are genuine.

  Yes, he has an ex.

  And obviously, they shared a lot together. But right now, he’s with me, and right now he finds me a worthwhile person to spend time with.

  When we get back to his house, we park, and I feel my heart beating fast again, not so much because of the exercise, but because of the look Louden’s giving me, and the desire inside my body. Still, I’m trying to play it at least a little cool. “So... where do we take the trikes?”

  “Don’t worry about it, my friend who I got them from is the same guy I dropped off my other bike with. When he’s done with the repairs, he’ll drop off my bike and pick up the trikes at the same time, he’s got a pickup that’ll handle it. Come on, I’m sure I’ve got a delivery menu in the house somewhere.”

  We go inside the house, which I see is tastefully decorated, modern but not ultra-modern, and the kitchen has a homely feel to it. “You cook?”

  “I try,” Louden admits, “but I’m no chef. Cathy doesn’t throw out my home cooking though, so I guess I do okay. Now, as for the Chinese menu... damn, guess we’ll have to use the Internet.”

  We find a menu, and in agreement with our ‘prize,’ Louden picks pork fried rice to go with the rest of our order. We give the restaurant a call, but they’re swamped, and say that it’ll take over an hour to get us our food. “I’m cool with that, if you can let me grab a shower,” I tell Louden. “I don’t want to funk up your living room.”

  “Cool,” Louden says, giving them his credit card and hanging up. “Okay, the guy said they’d have it here around two thirty for a late lunch. So, about that shower, let me show you my bathroom.”

  Louden leads me upstairs, and as he walks I can’t help but stare at his body. His shirt’s nearly plastered to his upper body and his tight ass looks amazing in his basketball shorts, my pulse quickening with every step up the stairs. About halfway up I can’t help it, I reach up and pinch his butt, making him jump and laugh. “Hey! Keep that up, and you’re going to be sharing a shower stall!”

  “If that’s the case,” I say, reaching out and pinching his delectable butt again, “I hope you have a big stall.”

  Actually, Louden’s master bathroom is huge, and as I look around in wonder, he grins. “Yeah, the booster had a thing for luxury bathrooms. This house used to have four bedrooms, now it’s got three and this thing. What do you think?”

  I look again at the huge shower stall, which is easily double the size of my entire closet in my apartment and turn, grabbing him by the t-shirt and kissing him. “I think if you can’t get me out of my clothes in thirty seconds, I’m going to be stealing a set of your clothes to go home.”

  Louden chuckles, lifting my t-shirt up and over my head, teasing me when he’s got my mouth freed but my eyes still covered to sneak in another kiss, my arms trapped as he keeps my arms above my head with one hand while he uses his other hand to undo the zipper on my sports bra, freeing my breasts and letting him devour them, his hungry mouth nibbling and sucking on my nipples and making me gasp. “Louden... fuck me, you’re amazing.”

  “You deserve every bit of this,” Louden says as he lets go of my shirt to lift both of my breasts together, pushing my nipples until they touch and he flicks his tongue over both at the same time. My knees feel weak it’s so intense, and I have to hold onto his shoulders to keep myself up as Louden sucks on both of my nipples at the same time. “And you are amazing too.”

  He stands up and steps back, stripping off his shirt and shorts before kicking his shoes off, giving me the space to finish getting my clothes off. I toss them aside, we can throw them in the washer later. I step into the stall and turn on the water, the steam immediately satisfying as I watch Louden step into the stall with me, his eyes burning with desire. “Turn around. Let me wash you.”

  I shake my head, reaching out and wrapping my fingers around the thick shaft of his already hard cock. “You can wash my hair while I wash something I want.”

  The water splatters on my back as I kneel down and lick the velvety soft mushroom head of his cock, Louden groaning loudly as I suck him between my lips, finding the spot on the underside where he’s so sensitive and rubbing my tongue over it over and over before sucking him deeper into my mouth, swallowi
ng more and more of his shaft.

  Louden puts his hand on the back of my head, controlling the depth as I run my hand over his washboard stomach, scratching him lightly as he feeds more and more of his cock into my mouth until he’s buried all the way in and I can feel him pushing up against the back of my throat.

  I pull back, taking him out to look at him naughtily before I lick him from tip to base, finding his balls and sucking each heavy egg into my mouth while he looks down at me in total wonder.

  His mouth is open, his breathing ragged when I lick back up and slide the tip of my tongue into his slit before I suck him again, bobbing my head until he takes over, his hand tightening in my hair to hold me still as he starts fucking my mouth, never going too far to gag me but still feeding me more with every slow thrust until I’m nearly choking on his cock, but I want it.

  I want every inch of him, I want to give him as much pleasure as possible, but Louden stops, pulling out and lifting me up, pulling me close and kissing me. “Another time,” he whispers in my ear before nibbling on my earlobe, finding the magic point that he’s found that no other man before has, his right hand lifting my leg and putting it on the built in soap shelf before he grins. “Knew that would come in handy someday.”

  Bending his legs slightly, Louden positions himself before thrusting into me, and I’m trapped in ecstasy. I can’t move, he’s tall enough that if I reposition either leg he’s going to slip out, and all I can do is hold on, trying to maintain my balance as he wonderfully slides in and out, his hands holding my ass tightly as he kisses me.

  Warm water cascades over our bodies, steam clouding everything around me as Louden fills me over and over. He can’t go super fast, we’re unable to find a position that let’s him pound me quickly, but because of that it’s different, slow and sensual, his hips moving in time almost with our heartbeats. I’m swept away in the current of our sexual joining, a voice whispering inside me that this is more than sex, this isn’t just the animalistic but tender fucking we’ve done. This isn’t the passionate pounding he gave me on the massage table, or the amazing weekend of unbridled passion.