Bob Watson loved the annual sales convention. It was his favorite part of the year. Not for the meetings themselves, which were boring and skippable. Not for seeing old friends and acquaintances, although that was nice. No, the convention, held in a city far away from home and wife was the one time in the year he indulged his fondness for a particular type of woman. Specifically, fat women. And particularly, self-accepting fat women who took as much joy in their bodies as he did. Fat women like the one he had run across at the corner store buying a twelve-pack.
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Jane was frustrated. It shouldn't be taking this long. Where was "Jeff"? Wherever she was, it was out of Chronivac range, and she wasn't answering her phone. Then Jane's phone buzzed with a text. "Hi sis. I met this out of town guy who's taking me to dinner, then we're going back to his hotel room to fuck. I'll bring your crap tomorrow. Wish me luck!"
Jane stared at the text in shock. Somewhere, she thought, I lost control of this situation.