I'm not skinny. I used to be, well, that's debatable.

But I'm not anymore.

Thank you pregnancy, thank you childbirth, thank you hormonal imbalance, thank you Kraft Mac n Cheese.
I'm rather rotund and I'm okay with that. It's something I can live with... when I'm not crying in a dressing room mirror because my ass is too big to fit into a pair of jeans that are a size larger than the ones I had worn into the store. Okay, so I really wore sweatpants, but they're universal. They're the everything pants; eat in them, sleep in them, clean up puke in them, and go on a date in them. They're the epitome of class for the working and SAHM Mom.

But even when I'm at my worst and think my body is an absolute train wreck- when sex rolls around, I'm sitting pretty.

This body that's failed me, breasts that have inched lower and lower with every passing year, chin that's doubled, nearing a third... and ass that's gotten wider with each minute I sit at this computer- has done me some good. It has made my sex life easy.

Now, most people would think, "easy, WTF do you mean easy!?"

It has made me the get-all instead of the give-all.

I remember years ago when my husband's male friends would joke that fat chicks are so eager to get some ass that they'd be willing to do anything. Today, my friends, I'm here to prove that theory wrong.

Because I don't do anything. I don't do anything at all.

See, when you have kids and you work (work outside of the home or in it) there comes that time when the night comes to a close and you're just like "goddamn, I'm tired". Now, you might say this so your spouse leaves you alone, to guilt them into giving you a back rub or a foot rub, or to run into the kitchen and fix you a bowl of chocolate ice cream. But see, this "I'm tired" shit works like gold. It makes my husband do whatever I want.

"No, honey, I'm too tired and fat to do much. I don't have the energy."

Those keywords translate into- okay, we'll have sex but you do all the work. And guess what? He will and he does. As soon as the word "fat" falls from my mouth my husband does whatever he can to reassure me I'm not fat, that I'm still sexy. Do you know what that means? DO YOU KNOW?!

It means:
A massage.

Extra foreplay for ME.

Not having to give him a blow job.

and whatever position I want.
My partner doesn't expect anything from me, instead, he focuses entirely on me and whatever I say goes.

For those of you who say, "Nuh Unh, that's so not true", I dare you- TRY IT. See how far it gets you. Now the male species is not that bright, in truth, they're driven by one thing. And they'll sacrifice an extra 20 minutes of foot rubs, back rubs, and titty tickles if it means you'll sleep with them. They have selective hearing so even if he pretends you don't exist during the first, second, and third inning of every baseball game- as soon as the word "fat" leaves your lips, he's right there kissing your ass.

Now, however, if you were blessed with an asshole, that selective hearing may kick on and you could drop f-bombs left and right and his eyes and ears would still be glued to his HD TV but keep the faith and say it until you have his ears bleeding. Cuz if he wants to get laid any time in the next decade and you're "too fat and too tired", chances are, he'll do whatever it takes to get his dick wet.

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