The Size of a Friend

G_ManCK

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I think it's safe to say that this is an example of the kind of stories many of us would like to read more of. It's rooted in a plausible reality and seasoned with just enough fantasy. I definitely am interested to see where it goes and I'm looking forward to the next chapters. Unfortunately, all too often we get good stories like this one that are cut short and never finished. I would like to see this story all the way too its conclusion. It's paced out well. Just don't wait too long if you can help it. I understand if life keeps you busy and that's more important. But great story please share more of it.
 
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e2626

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Thanks, I really appreciate all the positive comments.

"I think it's safe to say that this is an example of the kind of stories many of us would like to read more of." That's actually why I started writing it. I started to get tired of all the stories involving magic pills or aliens, and although I know that my story has an element of fantasy to it, I don't ever want it to stray too far from reality.

I haven't finished it yet, but I am going to try to post a new chapter every week or so. Every two weeks at the most. I want to finish it and if I don't keep the momentum going, I'm worried that I'll run out of steam. I have the general outline up here (*taps my temple) but I still have a lot of typing ahead of me.

Once again, thanks for the positive comments. They help to keep me motivated.
 
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Longbow9

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This story brought me back to the Fictitious Stories section. It's easily the best big cock story I've read in a while. I can't wait for the next update!
 

e2626

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Chapter 3

Monica

*BZZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZZ…. BZZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZZ….*


“What the fuck!? I’m trying to sleep here!” Monica was lying face down on her pillow in the middle of an amazing dream, when she was suddenly awoken by the sound of her cell receiving a text. It was on vibrate, but for some stupid reason, last night she had placed it on top of an empty coke can on her side table. This was a stupid move because the empty aluminum can was acting as an amplifier for the vibration and the resulting noise was akin to knives being forced into her skull.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Still face down in her pillow, she continued to scream into its fluffy embrace, as if the sheer force of her rage would destroy the text sender. She wished she was still asleep, sooooo bad, but the brief noise was terrible enough that she was awake now whether she liked it or not. She slowly lifted he head, a small string of drool trailing from her lips, and grabbed for her phone. Her hand accidently hit the can and the phone went flying. Goddammit. What an awful way to start a morning…. or was it the afternoon? To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t entirely sure.

Cursing the text sender one last time, Monica threw the covers off of her and walked across her bedroom. A lot of people would have considered her bedroom a complete mess, but she didn’t see it that way, she liked to call it “organically organized.” She stepped over a pile of clothing, sidestepped a stack of books and stopped in front of her full-length mirror. She looked at her reflection. There she was. Standing there, stark naked, legs spread slightly with her hands on her hips in what many would call a “power pose.”

Monica was a heavier girl, she had always been. When she was younger, especially while she was in high school, she used to hate the fact that she was overweight. The other students made her life hell because of it. Kids could be so goddamn cruel. Wait, to be more accurate, girls can be so cruel. To be fair the male students had given her a hard time too, but their insults were superficial, it was obvious that it was just a joke to them. They would tease any student that seemed slightly different from themselves, and in their eyes she was no different from the kid in the wheelchair. The female students on the other hand were downright gruesome towards her. The insults were always more personal with them. It was almost as if they hated her for being fat and saw her existence as a personal insult to women everywhere, one that had to be snuffed out through the use of mentally debilitating terror tactics.

That was then though, and high school was ten long years ago. As Monica looked at herself in the mirror she saw a different person from the one that would have stared back at her from high school. She was still overweight, but what had changed was the fact that it didn’t bother her anymore. When she was a teenager, she used to hate herself for it. She used to try every diet and workout gimmick that came out, and all she got for her trouble was frustration and a gap in her wallet where her money used to be. Over the past few years, Monica had grown to love her body and realized that being overweight really wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

The woman in the mirror before her was beautiful; she had gorgeous smile and an amazing figure. Monica always liked her smile, even back in high school. It seemed to say to the world “hey, I’m ready to have some fun! Wanna join me?” It was always bright, with just a dash of mysterious that seemed to hint that there was more to her than meets the eye. Speaking of eyes, hers were a deep dark brown. A past boyfriend of hers, who dated her back when she hated herself for being overweight, used to say that they were “dog shit brown.” What a fucking dickhead. Looking back, it was amazing that she had put up with his insults for so long, because the woman she was today wouldn’t have stood for that. If a man, or anyone for that matter, tried to talk to her like that today, God help them. She vowed long ago to never put up with shit like that again.

Monica let her eyes take in the rest of her body. She was chubby, sure, but all that extra weight added to her curves in a very appealing way. She used to have mixed feelings about her breasts, but now she thought that they were her greatest asset. They were round, soft, and very big, all good qualities to ask for in a pair. They weren’t as perky as other breasts that she had seen, they did seem to hang a bit, but that didn’t bother her anymore. Because in actuality, her breasts were not just big, but huge, and it was only natural for breasts of that size to lose their perkiness. Her friend Samantha had big boobs too, but in terms of sheer size Monica’s put hers to shame. Sure, Samantha’s still had their perkiness, but if Monica had the choice, she would never choose to go down a cup size to gain some of her perkiness back. No way.

Monica shifted her weight to view her profile in the mirror and let her eyes fall on her hips and ass. Just like her breasts, they were soft and full, and she thought that they looked fantastic. She used to brag to her friends that she could hypnotize a man from twenty yards away simply by rhythmically waving her ass in their direction. Once, while out at a club with Samantha she had tried it, and to their giddy delight, it actually worked! She saw a hot guy talking with some friends by the bar, and after some careful consideration, pointed her ass in his direction and started waving it slowly back and forth, as if she were a snake charmer. She had almost fallen on her ass with laughter when Samantha started singing a snake charming melody to go along with the ass waving. Goddamn, she loved hanging out with this girl. Whether it was the ass waving or the vocals provided by Samantha, it worked. Within minutes he drifted in their direction as if he had become possessed, the problem was that so did the rest of his friends. Sure, they were all cute, but they were a little too aggressive. A little too sure of themselves. Which if it was just her it wouldn’t have been that bad of a thing, but she was with Samantha and she had a boyfriend. And god, like Don needed another reason to not like them hanging out together. Luckily Monica knew the bartender since in the past he had often helped her hide from skeezy men, so Samantha and her ended up hiding behind the bar, giggling to themselves, for the rest of the night.

Now, Monica turned from the mirror and surveyed her bedroom. Where had the phone been flung to? Was it near that pile of school notebooks? Or was it lying somewhere among the towers of CDs that she had started organizing several months ago and had never finished? Honestly, she was way too tired to care. Contrary to Don’s belief about her, she did not go out drinking and partying every night. And as such, she wasn’t currently exhausted because of some crazy Hollywood movie worthy drinking fest, but it was because of a much more mundane reason: an all-night Lost marathon. It’s one of those shows that can suck you right in, and considering that she knew that she had the next day off, she decided to run through as many episodes in a single night as she could. Monica wasn’t sure what time it was when she had actually fallen asleep, she knew the sun was up, so she couldn’t have been sleeping more than a few hours.

“Arrraagh!” She pulled her head back in a groan of frustration. “Nope. Not dealing with this now.”

Monica was about to give up the hunt before it even officially began when she received another text. Since the cell had been knocked away from the coke can this new noise was much softer, but she could easily tell that it was hiding somewhere near the bathroom door. She dove after it and after a few moments of searching found the phone and thrust it into the air in triumph, the movement causing her breasts to slightly sway. She looked down at the phone, and released a soft gasp.

The text was from Samantha. But the text was very un-Samantha. She didn’t usually talk about penis size. Sure they had the regular “girl talk” where they discussed every aspect of a man’s body and sexual performance in incredible detail, but it wasn’t like Samantha to jump right into it. Usually Monica had to coax that information out of her.

Regardless of how un-Samantha this text was, Monica was very intrigued. Unlike her friend, after high school Monica had become very sexually active, taking the opportunity to enjoy sex in a way that simply wasn’t possible in high school. She had quickly learned that while her weight had made her an outcast in high school, out in the real world it wasn’t a big deal. She enjoyed having drinks with friends, meeting interesting guys, and then sometimes bringing a man back to her place for a night of (hopefully) awesome sex. She quickly realized that even though she was chubby, her body was beautiful in its own unique way, and there was always someone who wanted to enjoy her intimate company. It was fun, the act of seducing men with her physical charms, and with each successful seduction her self-confidence grew.

The ten years since high school had given her an intimate knowledge of sex, not just how to be fantastic at it (although that was something that she considered herself an expert on) but also her own personal tastes. She knew what she liked and what she didn’t like, and she felt that that was something that Samantha had missed out on. Samantha had met her boyfriend Don their senior year, started dating him, and ten years later was still dating him. Personally, she thought it was a joke that she had stayed with him for so long. Sure, at times Don had his rare nice-guy moments, but they were often separated by weeks of douchebaggery. He was, frankly, an asshole. And it wasn’t even that he was rude to herself, which he was, it was how he treated Samantha that made her blood boil. He took her for granted, which was true, but what was especially incensing was how he controlled her diet. Samantha was a petit girl; she probably needed to eat a few more to be healthier, not less. And Monica couldn’t shake the feeling that every time Don looked at her all he was thinking was “God. Please don’t let my girlfriend turn into THAT.” What a dickhead.

Monica was convinced that the only reason that Samantha had stayed with Don for so long was because she was so inexperienced. Not just sexually, but emotionally as well. She had no clue about what she needed sexually or out of a relationship, and Don had basically been given a free pass on his shittyness because of her lack of knowledge. Monica was convinced that if Samantha could feel what it was like to be with a real man for a change, she would leave Don in an instant.

She checked the second text. This one was also from Samantha and it read: You’re not guessing…

Monica laughed to herself. Okay, I don’t know what this is all about, but I’ll play this game. And with that thought, she texted her back.
 
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e2626

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Just a heads up: My schoolwork has bottle-necked and I'm going to be pretty busy for the next couple of days. Hopefully, I'll be through the gauntlet by next Friday. That's when I'm planning on posting Chapter 4.

Enjoy!