«My Black Roommate Loves My Curves» by Suzie Bishop

Brittany is a sweet, voluptuous girl who's always been self-conscious about her weight. Her roommate, Darren, is a handsome black fitness trainer who's always dating skinny bimbos. The only thing Brittany thinks they have in common is a love for Brittany's cooking, but she couldn't be more wrong! Darren loves Brittany's extra pounds, he's just never felt confident enough to say it!

 

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

 

Darren brought his lips down to my ear. “The thing is, Brit…the neck thing, the hips thing? Those are things you can’t change. You get older and the skin sags…and there’s nothing you can do about your hip bones. Now, belly fat, a chunky butt, thunder thighs, yeah, those things can shrink with cardiovascular exercise. But you…” His hands slid down, down, down…until resting firmly on my ass. “You’re just shaped the way God meant for women to be shaped. You have strong hips, you have skin that glows, and everything about you screams fertile and healthy and happy.”

 

“I’m…” Was I panting? I could hardly breathe. But I didn’t want this moment to end. All he’d done was lay his hands on me and I felt more present than I ever had in my life. “I’m not happy, though,” I whispered.

 

He lifted his right hand, and took mine, and laid them together upon the flesh of my stomach. He pressed — he made me press — into my body. He gently massaged around my bellybutton.

 

“Why?” he said. “Because you don’t look like Jessica? Like Cherine? Jessica had terrible skin, which comes from drinking too much alcohol, not drinking enough water, and throwing up too many nutrients. Cherine was nice, but she couldn’t stop fixating on her breasts. She thought they were too wide apart, she thought her nipples were too dark.” Darren’s palm roved up, and for a second I thought he was going to grope my breast. But he held me. He just held me, firm, steady.

 

“Everybody’s got something they don’t like about themselves,” he said. “That’s natural. But if you can’t see the difference between a real flaw and some bullshit comparison to somebody else, that’s a problem. Jessica’s solution was to cake on makeup. Cherine’s solution was to get a boob job.”

 

“Oh,” I said. His hands slid off my body and he twirled me, like we were dancing, and then we were facing each other. My white hands were almost lost inside his big, dark palms. He squeezed them to get my attention.

 

“I never asked you if you wanted me to train you because I never thought there was anything wrong with your body,” he said. “So think about that the next time someone tells you you have a fat ass. You have a big ass, girl, I ain’t gonna lie. But that’s compared to all the girls out there who think that having no ass is a compliment. Your ass can do things…” He bit his lip just as he was about to say something more. “Anyway, I look the way I look because this is my job. I like the way I look, I like being in shape, but the world I work in is perched on a very fine line between good health and dysmorphia. You, Brit, you just have no idea how soft and smooth you feel. And you should never feel like you have to make excuses for being exactly who you’re supposed to be.”

 

“I…” Why was he being so sweet to me? If I tried to actually form words, I’d probably start crying. So I just nodded. “Thanks,” I managed to sputter.

 

“Hey…” He brought his thumb up to wick away my first and last tear. “That is not necessary. Now look, I’m gonna do these dishes. You go take a bath or a shower or whatever you want to do. Hell, take a bubble bath. After a meal like that, you can have anything you want.”

 

Anything?