Tammy giggled at the thought, her mood lightening a little. Gavin didn’t mind driving her home if she fooled around with him first, and he said he liked big girls. He liked her big boobs anyway, and she knew she liked his…his thing. She’d been a virgin when she’d met him—a two-hundred pound virgin who always knew she’d stay a virgin and told herself she didn’t care because anything else was sinful—but he fixed that for her. He was old and he smelled like cigarettes, but the feel of his beard scratching at her body and that sliding, slippery hard-on stuck in her was better than anything she could do herself. Sometimes it felt so good, she actually peed herself a little or something. She loved when that happened. She loved him when that happened, but he didn’t like her to say so. And anyway, only snotty old churchies really believed that things like that were sinful.

“Hey, baby,” she called, reaching the top of the stairs.

“Hey.” Gavin was bent by the reels, his scruffy grey hair hiding his face as he made some last-minute splice. He finished whatever he was doing (the job of projectionist was as foreign and as specialist to Tammy’s mind as that of neural surgeon) and then looked up at her. “Going home?”

“Thought I might hang out here for a while.” Tammy plucked at the clip-on bowtie that the theatre made her wear and smiled at him, blushing.

Gavin grinned briefly and slid off his high stool. “Thought so, huh? Go sit down, baby, I’ll be with you in a sec.”

Tammy went to the weathered old couch, shrugging out of her vest on the way, but not her shirt. Gavin liked her boobs, but she hated to be even a little naked in front of him. There wasn’t much light up here, but there was enough to see her fat. Besides, he liked to take her shirt off himself.

Gavin checked the films, loaded a reel for Indiana Jones, and came back to her. His hand went up her shirt almost the same instant his ass touched the sagging cushions and Tammy got the giggles again.

“Don’t be so quick,” she said, pushing playfully at his arm.

“Aw, come on, don’t be so frigid.” Gavin pawed at her through her bra and then started unhooking it. “Why do you got to wear such complicated shit?” he grumbled.

Tammy tried to kiss him and Gavin stuck his tongue all the way down her throat, which was gross. She pulled back and he opened up her shirt and started sucking at her boob, kneading and rubbing the other one.

“Come on,” he panted. “Come on, come on. Touch it already.”

Tammy put her hand on his crotch and felt the solid lump pushing out the front of his jeans. Touching it made her feel that shivery spike in her own…place. She wriggled on the couch cushions, petting him nervously. She knew he’d put it in her, but there was always this excitement, the newness and wrongness of it, that made her hesitate. That was okay. Gavin seemed to like pushing her into it every time.

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s it, baby. Come on, get your hand in there.”

Shaking a little, Tammy unzipped his jeans and slid her hand under the waist of his shorts. She gripped his thing, feeling it hot and rubbery, and he groaned and sucked harder at her boobs.

They petted like that for a while, Tammy getting hotter and hotter while Gavin’s hands got rougher and his thing got harder. Soon, he’d put it in her and maybe that shivery pee would happen. Maybe it wouldn’t, but it would still feel nice.

Gavin’s watch beeped and he groaned and got up. Holding his jeans up with one hand, his thing poking out over the open zipper, he went off to change a reel and check the other screens. Tammy waited for him, twisting her hands in the open folds of her shirt. She was flushed and breathing hard, but it was a great feeling all the same. Like being sexy and pretty and thin, all the things she’d never been and never would be. (It hadn’t yet occurred to Tammy that ‘fooling around’ five nights a week was a better workout than she’d ever stuck to before and that thinking about the things they did in the projectionist’s bay had replaced most, if not entirely all, of her daily snacks. She’d lost twenty pounds so far, and if she ever got around to noticing it, she might realize that she was at least beginning to be a little sexy for real.)

When Gavin came back, he didn’t sit down. He got up close to the sofa, pushing his jeans down to his knees, and said, “Come on, baby.”

Tammy’s excitement curdled slightly. “No. Come on. I don’t want to.”

“Come on, just do it. Don’t be such a fucking cow.”

Tammy’s eyes and stomach dropped. She tugged her shirt over her hanging boob, the heat in her cheeks turning ugly. “No,” she mumbled.

“Hey, don’t do that. Baby, I’m just playing, you know me.” He shook her shoulder as though he were waking her up from a nap but he didn’t look like he was playing, not at all. “Just do it,” he whined. “You might like it. Most girls do. Come on! You do it for me and I’ll do it for you.”

His thing jutted, swollen and purple, right in front of her face. It smelled sweaty and gross.

“Come on, I thought you were a fun girl,” he said, looking frustrated.

She knew that look. He was close to just stomping off, letting her walk down to the bus station by herself and that would be it for the night. This was a fight they’d had before, and Tammy didn’t know how many times they could keep having it before he gave up on her for real. The thought was more terrible than she could stand.

“Oh, all right,” she said. “But you can’t, you know, in my mouth. Promise you’ll take it out.”

“Girls like that!” he insisted.

“Promise, or I’m not doing it!”

“Okay, fine. Jesus. Just do it!”

After several false starts, Tammy opened her mouth and queasily licked at the knobby head of his thing. It tasted like sucking on a sweaty hand. She tried to make a face and back off, but Gavin grabbed her head and pushed it all the way in. She gagged and he pulled back, but soon he was pushing it in again.

It was gross. That was all there was for Tammy, but he was groaning like it was the best thing in the world. Tammy didn’t have to do much, just suck at him a little, and she did, hating it but knowing he would put it in her pretty soon and then it would be worth it.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, baby, oh that’s great. Suck it, baby.”

Her cheeks flamed. None of the books she read—books with names like Forbidden Desires and Highland Rogue—ever had men say things like that. It always made her feel a little bad, kind of sick and dirty, the way the churchies had always insisted that any girl who did this sort of thing really was. She wished he’d talk nice to her once in a while, like the books did.

“Suck it, baby! Suck it! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”

She felt his thing twitch in her mouth and she yanked back fast. His white stuff shot out a second later, squirting out on the couch cushions.

“Goddammit!” Gavin hollered, and raised his hand like he wanted to hit her.

“You promised!” she shouted back. “I told you to pull it out and you promised!”

He still looked pissed, but his fist uncurled. “Girls like it,” he said. “It’s the best part. You’re such a fucking baby sometimes.” He stomped off, zipping his fly up, to check the reels and the screens.

Tammy waited, her anger drifting into the threat of tears. She got a handful of napkins from the employee’s table and used it to clean the couch. Maybe girls did like it. In the books she read, sometimes the girls did that for the hero and they liked it. Of course, the books didn’t say how gross and sweaty it tasted.

When Gavin came back, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“Aw, it’s all right,” he said, only looking a little pissed now. “You’ll do better next time, right?”

“Sure.”

“Sure you will.” He sat down and groped at her boobs, forgiving her.

She let him play with her, gradually coming back to a little of the good, gushy mood he made her feel, until he was panting at her to touch him again. She did, rubbing his thing in her fist the way he’d taught her until he finally started to get hard. He was groaning at her to hurry up as he slobbered at her nipples, and she tried, pulling and rubbing faster.