Female Foreign: Fat love

The boyf and I are two people who, so entirely entwined in our deep sexuality, sometimes cause tectonic movements due to the complete perfection of our slender and divine bodies. I jest.

OK, so we are not fat. At one point, in the past, we both had bodies that we were very happy with. Then Shanghai happened.

Hardly cooking at home, hardly eating properly, hardly able to not order McDonalds (or better: Carls’ Jr) when befuddled at 3am, we now both carry around doggy bags of food with us at all times. The problem is that these doggy bags are actually paunches of fat, on our bellies.

Standing up straight, it’s not really an issue. It’s when naked and folded that the rolls just keep on rolling.

We lay in bed, observing each other and feeling like we are simply oozing complete sexiness with our carriage of junk. After a bit of self-hating, we will have absolutely sizzling sex. By which I mean that we will find the absolute most convenient and energy-efficient (lazy) way to climax. After which, it’s 3am and we’re both hungry.

Donut … burgers. Donut burgers.



Categories: Expat Life


Foreigner in Shanghai


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