Sylvia

This story happened in the warm, cozy seventies of the twentieth century. Plump girls, especially those of a deliciously young age, were a rarity back then. In my school, out of the entire grade, only a couple of girls had any extra weight; the rest boasted figures "slender as a willow," but to me, they were just skinny... yeah, unlike now, when statistics claim half of women are beyond the obesity line.

Anyway, plump girls back then hid it as best they could, and they were mocked both at school and elsewhere. And that little fold that wouldn't even be noticed today was reason enough back then to poke at it and shout "fatty"!

Those

were the times, yes.

But even then, there were young ladies whom these taunts couldn't ruin either their life or their mood, such an aura of self-confidence did their rounded forms radiate. And there were guys who were attracted precisely to such beauties, not to diet-obsessed mops...

*

I don't remember when I realized I liked plump girls specifically. Long ago. But I remember exactly when I met Sylvia.

I was eighteen then, it was a warm May day, the main exams were behind me; there was still something minor left, but the main tension of graduation had dissipated, and I was simply enjoying the spring and beautiful weather.

Sylvia was doing the same—a girl I knew casually, living next door; a year younger than me, she didn't go to our school, but sometimes we'd cross paths on the street and exchange a few words. Like now, we just sat side by side in a secluded corner of the park, chatting about nothing...

... and after a while, Sylvia probably noticed that I kept glancing sideways at her stomach. It was so very round, bulging out of her too-tight jeans.

And right in the middle of our casual conversation, she simply asked me straight out:

— Do you think it's bad that I'm so fat?

I was the one who got flustered first by such a question. More from the directness with which it was said.

— You're not fat at all... — I blurted out, blushing.

To which Sylvia burst out laughing.

— Yeah, I'm not fat at all. And you're not staring right here. And my jeans aren't splitting at the seams at all. You know, staying slim with my grandma is impossible. She's afraid I, poor thing, am starving and always cooks the most luxurious dishes... and a whole mountain of them... and woe to anyone who dares not ask for seconds! — Sylvia smirked.

— But she doesn't force-feed you all that. You can just say 'I don't want it' if you really don't.

— Well, Jonas... — now it was her turn to blush. — I actually do want it. How can you refuse your favorite steaming hot mac and cheese right in front of you? Or grandma's cheesecake? So no, it's not just grandma's fault, to be completely honest.

— Well, if you want it, then there's nothing to talk about, — I had already overcome my embarrassment. — Because I like your stomach.

At the unexpected compliment, Sylvia blinked, turned to me with a surprised, warm smile—and then, taking my hand, guided it to the bulges protruding from her jeans.

— Want to feel how soft it is?

Oh yes, soft is an understatement, these divine-to-the-touch folds of fat, tender and pliable, to caress them properly, two hands weren't enough, but I simply didn't have more, and my own pants somehow became too tight in certain places...

Her thin, tight sweater seemed to ride up to her navel and above on its own, inviting me to touch the bare skin; Sylvia, judging by her quickened breathing, was actively enjoying the process, as her hands slipped under my t-shirt and stroked my back.

Our lips just as naturally merged in a kiss, long and passionate.

After a magnificent eternity, she pulled back slightly and with an apologetic grimace declared:

— No, these jeans are too tight, — and with an almost audible *pop*, she unbuttoned the button, and the zipper slid down on its own under the pressure of the stomach bursting free. Cruel red marks remained on her waist, confirming that Sylvia's jeans were at least a size too small. — Phew, that's better, — she sighed with relief, — and now you have access, — and smiled.

This time, there was no need to guide my hand anywhere, I physically couldn't tear myself away from these plump, tender cushions. Sylvia just purred contentedly:

— Well now, I think I believe you like plump girls.

— I never denied it. And the fact that all those diet-obsessed mops count calories just to not gain an extra gram—that's their personal problem.

She laughed.

— Yeah, sometimes I just feel sorry for them. They don't understand what good food is.

Then she glanced at her wrist.

— Hmm, speaking of food: grandma is already cooking dinner and doesn't like tardiness. I was let out just to get some air and work up an appetite, which you helped me with a lot, — she winked and, sucking in her stomach to her spine, managed to button her jeans on the third try. — But we'll see each other again, right?

— Of course. The outdoor pool opens tomorrow, what do you think?

— I'd love to! But I have to go now...

She gave me a peck on the cheek and hurried off. And I watched her plump thighs sway...

From that day on, slim girls didn't exist for me.

*

All evening and all night, Sylvia literally wouldn't leave my head. Never before had any girl captivated me like that. Or aroused me. We'd only met yesterday, and I was already imagining how I'd kiss her again, how I'd hug her, soft and pliable.

So naturally, I showed up at the entrance to the city pool almost at dawn. Too early, she wasn't there yet. And we'd somehow forgotten to agree on a time... But who was there, alas, were Tim and Marvin, a pair of jerks from my class who thought they were hilarious jokers.

— Ha, Jonas, you're standing there looking like you were forgotten to be picked up, — Marvin snorted.

— Why aren't you going in, forgot money for the ticket? Need a loan? — Tim, of course, couldn't resist adding his two cents.

— No, I'm waiting... for someone, — I brushed it off.

Idiot. Could have kept quiet. Of course, this pair of clowns didn't miss that.

— Oh, a date! And who's the unlucky girl?

— You'll see for yourselves a bit later...

And so on. I held my tongue with all my might, rolling my eyes. Eventually, the jerks hopped off to splash in the pool.

And then finally my beloved appeared. Her light, wavy hair was flowing. Today she was in a knee-length floral sundress—loose, but unable to hide the juicy forms of its owner. And when Sylvia saw me, her round face lit up with a smile and adorable dimples on her cheeks.

— Glad to see you! Been waiting long? — as a greeting, she pecked my cheek and lightly touched my arm, but that was enough to send an electric shock through me.

— No, just got here, — and I took her hand. — Well, let's go.

The large municipal outdoor pool included a considerable surrounding area, and there was, in particular, a sizable shaded area under old trees for those who didn't want noise and bustle. Just what I wanted: putting Sylvia on display for Tim, Marvin, and other school gossips—did I need that?

Sylvia didn't object when I led her to the farthest corner. We laid out mats and towels, and she pulled the loose sundress over her head, remaining in a yellow bikini.

Oh yes, she didn't drape her curves in baggy swimsuits, as plump ladies were supposed to do in those years. No, Sylvia wore a bright yellow bikini that hid nothing—and, like yesterday's jeans, was clearly a bit tight on her. A juicy little belly hung over the bottoms, wide hips had sprouted a considerable layer of fat, and the top of the swimsuit exposed rather than concealed her luxurious, large breasts.

My eyes were practically glued to this magnificence, to which Sylvia laughed:

— Well, now you see me in all my glory.

— Oh yes, simply wonderful, — I agreed, as nothing better came to mind.

Before lying down to sunbathe, she asked me to rub sunscreen on her back—of course, I was all for it! So Sylvia lay on her stomach, leaving her back bare—she had unhooked her bra. And I enjoyed touching her soft body, where fat could be felt everywhere—from her neck, where there was just a tiny bit, to quite noticeable rolls on her sides just below her waist. I paid extra attention to those. She even pulled her bottoms down a bit, giving better access for the cream and my hand, and of course, the plump roundness of her buttocks was also carefully creamed. Sylvia made contented sighs during the process, wordlessly communicating how much she liked my touches.

Other parts of her body, however, also needed cream, but she could reach those herself. Too bad. Still, we were indeed in a public place, not on a secluded lawn in a hidden backyard... So I could only watch as her hands worked on the soft fat on the lower part of her belly and between her fleshy thighs down to her rounded knees.

The day turned out to be quite hot for late May, and it was time to cool off a bit in the pool.

Hand in hand, we moved across the lawn to the water's edge, and I couldn't help but notice how divinely Sylvia's body looked in motion, all her curves and folds swaying slightly. Juicy breasts bounced lightly with each step, and wide buttocks swayed back and forth. I felt the touch of others' gazes; Sylvia didn't even slow her step, her walk was the epitome of confidence. And I, a shy, easily embarrassed guy, caught that confidence from her and was proud of how we stood out from the crowd.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tim and Marvin pointing at us with smirks to someone.

— We've been spotted, — I whispered.

Sylvia just laughed.

— You mean that pair of clowns? I see them too. And... do they bother you?

— Not a bit. Let them gossip, what else is left for them!

And we slipped into the water. Sylvia swam beautifully, much better than me, so we ended up in the far corner of the pool, where it was shallower and you could just stand and catch your breath. An exchange of glances.

— I missed you so much last night.

— Me too.

Our arms wrapped around each other on their own. Sylvia pressed her whole body against me, soft and rounded. I caressed her back—her bare skin felt even more enticing in the water—stroking those cute little fat folds on her sides.

— Now your hands already know the right way, — she laughed, also caressing my sides and back.

— Of course, they're just drawn there, — and my palms reached a bit lower, to her luxurious, large thighs, to which she just smiled with a contented, sated look, showing not a hint of objection.

And so we hugged right there in the pool until a lifeguard in a life vest approached.

— Hey, you two—slow it down. Or find yourselves a separate room!

We had to untangle, interrupting our romantic embrace, but as for a separate room—that was a very, very good idea...

— Okay, let's go back. I'm getting hungry anyway, — Sylvia said and climbed up the ladder. Getting out of the water, she turned, saw I wasn't following. — What's up, Jonas, why are you stuck?

— Coming now, — I replied.

— Well, come on, meet me at the café.

A few minutes later, Little Jonas returned to his usual dimensions, and I could finally get out. No surprise, considering how she drove me crazy!

We met again at the local café. I got myself a small bag of fries with ketchup and mayo; Sylvia, however, put two sausages and a large portion of fries, generously drenched in mayo, on her plate, plus a large glass of cola. When we settled on the terrace, she attacked her portion with appetite and very quickly demolished half the sausage and the fries with mayo.

— That's better, — she sighed happily, which also didn't go unnoticed.

Biggi and Ulla, two blondes from the parallel class, exchanged glances and smirked knowingly. Skinny, all ribs showing, and I'm sure they were whispering something like "wow, that Sylvia is already fat, and she eats like there's no tomorrow"... That picture, I admit, amused me. And otherwise, I just admired Sylvia eating and slowly nibbled my own fries.

— Don't you want to try some? — she nodded at the remaining sausage.

— No, thanks, — I smirked. — Don't think it's right to steal food from you.

— Suits me, — Sylvia shrugged and sent everything left on the plate into her mouth. Only a drop of mayo in the corner of her mouth showed that something had been there recently.

Then she excused herself to the restroom, and while I sat alone at the table, Marvin and Tim tried to start another round.

— Jonas, are you seriously into fat chicks like that? — Marvin asked, putting on a mask of disgust.

— Fat here, fat there... — added Tim, unable to even form a full sentence, but expressively outlined the shape of a plump figure with his hands.

— And what if I am, — I shrugged. — Bones are for dogs. If you like that, your crowd is over there, behind you.

— Just be careful, or you might get scratched, — added Sylvia, who had just returned with a couple of ice cream bars.

Leaving the gossip lovers to themselves, we returned to our corner on the mats.

— You handled that well, Jonas, — Sylvia praised me, handing me an ice cream as a reward.

— Yeah, fun, — I smirked. — Though, I'd prefer to hang out with you without extra witnesses.

— I'm in, — and she kissed me, her lips cold and sweet.

— I already figured out when: next week the session ends, and my folks are going to Aunt Hedwig's for Trinity Sunday. They invited me too, but I said I still need to practice my English pronunciation. It's important for my future career, you know. — And we exchanged knowing smirks.

— Are you good at math? Can you tutor me? — Sylvia asked with exaggerated admiration.

— You? Gladly!

And we laughed again.

*

On Friday, I paced impatiently around the house. Three in the afternoon, and my parents still hadn't left. The green Opel Ascona was loaded as if they were planning to stay for three weeks, but Mom was still running around the house looking for sunglasses, a makeup bag, and another dozen