I need a story about a bimbo noticing her nerd gf feeling self conscious about her body and cheering her up the only way she knows how.
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“Oh, c’mon Merri-berri! Don’t be like that!”
I don’t want to smile. I really don’t-I’m trying so hard to push this mood. But my lips twitch, just as they do every time she speaks. A smile comes before the realization of it. God, I even giggle. Cynthia comes up behind me, her chin atop my head. Her arms slink over my stomach. Her fingers laced together right over my navel-and for a moment, everything is alright. The mirror isn’t there, my rolls of chub aren’t there. It’s just me and her, and everything feels alright.
Then I feel her breasts against my shoulders. Quick as a shot, a thought fills my head. One that makes me sigh, and twist out of her hands. Cynthia, she’s not like me. Mirrors are always kind to her. But it’s her moods that lay bare our contrasts. I’m tighter than a ship, even with my roughshod patches. The few leaks I get happen when nobody can see but me. Cynthia is a cinnamon bun. Dripping and decadent in every way.
Especially her frowns. It’s enough to make me grab my glasses. I pull my shirt from the end table, suddenly hurrying to clean them.
“Merri? Is everything okay?” she says. Arms still curled, hands poised.
I don’t answer her. I want to, but I can’t. I want to tell her “No, nothings okay. I’m fucking hideous. I don’t know why you or anyone could love me. Don’t you have eyes?”
Instead, I say “I’m fine,”
I tell her “It’ll be alright,” as I put my glasses back on.
Cynthia is a lot of things I’m not. Beautiful. Curvy. Kind.
But she’s not stupid. Most people, they write her off. They look at her tits, big enough to cast their own shadow. They look at the red of her lips, the way she smiles. They hear her laugh, and assume she’s some kind of doll. That she’s porcelain, and will break if you press to hard. Her and I, we laugh at them. Cynthia in her bubbly way-mine in a tone all too knowing. She wasn’t stupid.
She was just optimistic. Unflaggingly, unalterably hopeful. It’s why I loved her.
It’s also what made seeing her, arms still me-shaped, so hard.
I cough, and reach for my cigarettes. Cynthia takes a step towards me, then another. With my back turned, she pussy-foots until I feel the warmth of her breath. Her hand slides over my wrist, and presses the pack of Marlboros down.
If I was feeling extra bitchy, I jerk my hand away. I’d tug the lighter out of the elastic of my boy shorts. I’d light up right in front of her, and walk away. Maybe she would give me space, maybe not. Maybe she’d yell, or maybe she would just stay quiet.
But I keep my hand there, even as her fingers curl over my own. Even as the squeeze tighter, and she kisses the back of my neck. I close my eyes, and finally free my hand. I don’t grab the pack, though. I lift it to hold her chin.
Our lips meet, and everything’s okay again. If only for a moment. When she spoke, her voice dripping with mirth, I nodded my head. Even before the words process in my mind, and she’s pulling away.
She giggles, and claps her hands as she goes to the closet.
“Oh, this is gonna be so much FUN! I don’t even remember the last time we went skating!”
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“Cynthia NO,”
“Merri, YES!”
She’s out of the car, skates held by a string and a hooked finger. Be it her laughter or her heels, every part of her bounces right to the door. I have to scramble to get out. I break into a sprint, a pant escaping my lips as we pass the sign.
RIZKIT’S SKATIN’ EMPORIUM-
NUDE SKATE NIGHT 2NITE
18+ ONLY 1 DRNK MIN
I couldn’t tell if it was the marquee signage or Cynthia’s enthusiasm that scared me more. Both drew plenty of attention.
The parking lot was absolutely packed.
Cynthia hopped, a hand on the door as I finally caught up. I doubled over, my hands on my knees as breathe clawed its way in. I shook my head, and tried to look up at her.
“Cynthia we can’t, there’s going to be so many-”
“So?” she says, tone high as she kept bouncing.
I look up at her, and wipe the sweat from my brow as I stand. I take a final breath, the lactic acid in my legs relenting. I close my eyes, and try to hold it in. That edge, those biting words I’d felt back at the house. When I finally opened my eyes, I look up at her. Right at her smile, wide and bright as the sign.
“Because I’m gross, that’s why,”
Like that, Cynthia stops. It takes just a second for her body to catch up, but she’s still as a statue. The frown, a single deep line like back at the house, it’s back. Her brows arch in an upside down V, and she stares at me. I can take it all of a minute before my face gets warm, and I have to clean my glasses again.
“You are not gross,” she says. She bends, and drops her skates beside her heel. I’m so busy wiping that I don’t realize how close she is to me. Not until her painted toes enter my sight line, and her fingers are at my chin.
The frown is still there, and in that moment I want nothing more than to shrivel into myself. I want to apologize until my throat runs dry. I even try to speak, but Cynthia just puts a finger to my mouth. She doesn’t blink her honey-colored eyes, even as she pulls her finger away.
“First off, you’re not gross. Don’t you dare say that. Do you hear me?”
“But-” I start, only for Cynthia to press another finger to my lips. She shakes her head, her blonde curls flying.
“No. You’re not gross, no butts. And if you think that you are, you’re big-time wrong. Big, huge time wrong. Even bigger than my titties,”
She says this, then cinches her arms tight under her breasts. I try to fight it again-that tinge at my lips. But it comes all the same, and I break into a smile.
“That’s pretty wrong, I guess,” I say.
She wiggles her arms, and for a moment I’m terrified she’s going to pop out of her spaghetti straps. She doesn’t-but then she giggles, and leans down to meet my face. For a second, they’re close. So damned close they could just slip out.
Then she kisses me, and the rest fades away.
“Remember the last time we came on nude night?” She says, with her fingers at my chin. She grips it between her forefinger and thumb, and leaves lipstick on my cheek.
“Well, yeah-”
“Remember the people that were here? They weren’t gross, were they?” she says, leaving another mark.
“Well-”
“Well, you’re super cute, and you’re going to make them all jealous when we walk in now,” she says. She lets go of my chin, and I can still feel the warmth of her lips. She stands, and starts hopping again.
When her girls bounce free, she lets out a laugh that warms my heart.
And the rest of me.
“Okay, okay-let’s just get in,” I say, reaching for the door. Cynthia squeals, and a moment later the cool air of the rink embraces us.
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I mean, it wasn’t the first time either of us had met Rizkit. She also wasn’t the kind of goblin you simply forgot about. Around town, Rizkit was almost everywhere you look. In the auto shop one week, pulling a plumbing contract the next. Every summer she operated a potion stand at the fair. Cynthia and I had been her customers, in one form or another, all our lives.
But that didn’t make looking past the massive green breasts atop the counter easier.
“Girls! Good to see you. Been too long!” she said as she propped her arm on top of herself. She hung her head in her chin, and gave a devilish grin. I stopped, and gave a snort as Cynthia pulled herself from her top. I reached back for my wallet, and said “Rizkit, you fixed our flat just last week,”
“Mmm-hmm, sure did sugar tits. But that was last week-so, two?”
I gave a grunt, and laid the bills on the counter. Rizkit lifted one of her breasts, and smacked the bills under it. They disappeared, and Rizkit gave me a blink. I arched my brows, and tilted my head towards the register.
“Don’t you have books to keep?”
“Sometimes. Boss ain’t here tonight though,” she replied. She shifted, and I caught a millisecond view of even more bills before her verdant breasts covered them again.
“How is the Madam?” came Cynthia behind me. Her clothes met the counter, and the goblin made them disappear just as quick. She snorted, and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, you know her,”
“Grumpy?” I say, giving a sharp inhale as I grip the edge of my shirt.
“Horny?” says Cynthia at my right, her smile wide at the edge of my vision.
Rizkit just laughs, and reaches under the counter. She brings back a massive rubber stamp, and shakes her head. “She’s just her. Alright girls, gimme your ha-hey, you’re still in uniform, sugar! You can’t skate like that!”
I froze. Words bubbled up in my throat, and congealed into a mass. I felt the pulse in my neck race as my knuckles tightened on my shirt. I wanted to say something, anything-and then Cynthia’s hands were over mine. Her fingers filled the gaps of my own, and my shirt was gone. Then my bra, and my shorts. I’d forgotten to put panties on before we left. My hands flew to cover myself, and Cynthia just giggled. Rizkit snorted, and leaned forward.
“And how am I supposed to get your hand all the way down there? Hrm?”
By the time my hand met the counter top, Cynthia had pulled the other way. She squeezed it tight as the rubber stamp came down, then met her own. Rizkit smiled, without even a hint of snark.
“Yall two are awfully cute. Have fun out there, okay? It’s a nice crowd tonight!”
“We will! Thanks Rizzie!” said Cynthia. She tugged my arm, and I followed her to a nearby bench. Coming in, I’d kept my nose to the ground. I had tried so hard not to look at anyone-but that meant looking at myself. Sitting here, naked now?
I finally looked up.
For the first time all night, relief washed over me like cold water.
There were a few people, like Cynthia. Carved from marble and just as timeless. But by large, the crowd held no standard of shape, size or age. In one corner, a lamia cheered for a minotaur. She smiled, her dreads shaking as she cheered him on. The minotaur, a thin bead of sweat on his brow, held his hands in front of him. Each sway of his skates grew a bit more bold than the last.
“C’mon Noah! You got this!” cried the lamia.
Noah, the tips of his horns wavering, gave her a slight smile. He almost tripped-but caught himself at the last moment. Each step sent his massive cock flying in a circle. I didn’t mean to grin, but I couldn’t help it. He was cute. They were cute, and looked so happy. It was enough to pull that twing at my lips-and this time, I didn’t fight it.
Beyond them, a blue-skinned lady glided past this pot-bellied, gray haired guy in tattoos. His brow is furrowed in frustration as he puffed to keep up with her. It was only when he spoke I noticed the ink on his skin swirled. I blinked, and they changed right before me. The olympic circles, people on skates in a rink gave way to atom bombs and mushroom clouds.
“Gods damn it Jen, this is unfair!” cried the man, his face red as a tomato.
“You’re the one that wanted to race, Jack. C’mon-you can do better than that,” said Mrs. Blue. She giggled, and it was then I noticed the tail. It smacked his bare butt, and the guy gave a yip. She skated past, and he bent at the waist to speed up.
That wad of words in my throat, it gave way to a laugh. One that stayed as I drank in the rest of the room. Until she kissed me, I hadn’t even noticed Cynthia slide my skates on.
With her face so close to mine, I watched as her eyes cut towards the rink. She came closer still, and rubbed her nose to my own.
“What do you see out there, Merri-Berri?” she said.
“People,” I croaked in reply.
“That’s right,” she said, “Just people, like you and me. And we’re gonna get out there, and shake our butts, and have a really good time with them. Okay?”
Her lips met mine, and every synapse in my brain fired off. As her fingers slid along my thigh, I cinch them. I didn’t tighten a single part of me.
I widened in welcome. Cynthia giggled again, and with my thighs dripping, I gripped her slick hand. We pulled into the rink, the lights bouncing along every curve of her and I. Our feet pressed forward, and I looked towards her face. Even skating together like this, it was one beautiful blur of light. A neon halo focused around the crown of her head.
My lips parted, and I told her the one thing that I’d always found the hardest.
She giggled, her eyes glinting as she said “I know,”