Plush Pearl

"Swallow all my cum, you fat whore. Then you can be my girlfriend," Jason Nelson challenged, proudly staring down at me with his dick in my face. 

I had already come too far to quit now. His friends were filming everything. They would release the video of me blowing him to the whole school if I didn't comply. So I soldiered on and did as I was told. 

"Can I go now?" I whimpered, once I was done swallowing every bit of cum I could gather. 

Fucked up as it sounded, this had been my choice. It was like a dream to me, having my crush ask me to touch him. 

Was it how I dreamed it would be? No, but touching was touching, especially for a fat girl who would never be this close to him again. 

He held out both hands to me. I hesitated, thinking it was a trick. Jason Nelson was never going to make Plush Pearl his girlfriend.

"Jay, come on," his friends complained. 

"Delete it. All of it. She's mine now," he demanded and my heart soared. 

I caved and placed my hands in his. 

That was the night I should have walked away, but I was eighteen. Dumb as a sack of rocks for someone with a 4.0 GPA. Inexperienced. Lonely. Sick of being targeted and mocked for my weight. So when Jason tossed me a lifeline, I took it. 

From then on, I was always on his arm. People didn't make fun of Jason Nelson's girlfriend. 

How I wished I could take it all back. I gave up a lot that day. Dignity. Self respect. My pride. I sold my fucking soul to the devil and never got it back. 

Three years later, I was standing in the doorway of our bedroom in our shared apartment, watching him fuck a squealing Asian chick in our bed. 

"Fuck, I needed this. Now that's a tight pussy. Same time tomorrow?" he said, as he ploughed away at her pussy, her little tits flying about as he rocked into her tiny frame. 

"We're abstaining until marriage, are we?" I cried out, bending over, grabbing onto one of his shoes and tossing it at his red face. 

He still had the reflexes of a quarterback though and caught it without much effort. 

"Plush Pearl? Shit, I mean—" he said, immediately withdrawing from the tiny woman he was doggy style fucking. 

"I told you to stop calling me that. I don't want my fucking virtue respected. I want to fuck," I cried out, anger and sadness washing over me in waves as the betrayal hit me head on. "Like you just fucked her."

"Baby, relax. She's just a hooker. Men have needs, Pearly. You're going to be my wife. I'll fuck you then," he said with a shrug, hopping off the bed and scrambling to get his boxers on. 

"Yeah right. You're never using your dick on that fat cow. Be serious, Jay. I'm a whore and even I know he's playing you, babes. Get out while you still can," said the hooker nonchalantly, smacking gum between her jaw and claiming the cash on the bedside table. 

"Shut the fuck up," Jason yelled across the room at the hooker, then he made a beeline for me. "Don't listen to her, okay? I love you, my sweet Pearly," Jason said, taking my hands and slowly dragging them up to his mouth to kiss them. 

For the first time in three years, I saw it. Hidden behind honey coated words was disgust. The look on his face as he eyed my body up and down was not one of lust or affection. This man was not attracted to me in the slightest. 

How fucking foolish was I to think that he wanted me after he started our relationship with a blow job in front of all his friends?  

"I love you too," I said, swallowing hard, trying to pretend watching him cheat on me hadn't just obliterated my insides.

"Great. Glad that's sorted. Did you finish my final assignment for the semester? It's due today," he said, promptly dropping my hands with a sigh of relief. 

Just like that, the smarts that got me into MIT and had me graduate a year early finally kicked in. How could I mistake him asking for blow jobs for three years as love? Fuck, were we even in a relationship?

"Am I really such a pathetic loser?" I asked myself more than him, my voice trembling as I took a step towards him. "Kiss me if you love me," I all but begged. 

"You know we are waiting—" he began nervously, his gaze dropping to my plump lips and chubby cheeks as he attempted his signature line.

"For marriage right? I won't stop being fat then you know," I said, silently accepting his revulsion of me. "I'll still be Plush Pearl, Jason." 

Whatever he thought of my body, it didn't compare to my feelings about it. I woke up every day and stared in the mirror, wishing I was a size zero and loathing the sight of my slight double chin. 

"Plush Pearl. Shit, what's wrong with me? I just can't shake the pet name," he cursed, then bit into his fist, his eyes boring into me. "It wouldn't kill you to lose a few pounds you know. Men are visual creatures. I need that paper, Pearly." 

He didn't call me fat and unsexy as a result outright, but this was the harshest he had ever been. Did he think I hadn't tried all the diets and exercise routines to lose the weight?

"Already sent it to your email," I said instead of letting loose, choking the words down while I watched the delusion I had been living these past three years fade into nothing. 

Something inside me died as I pulled the promise ring he put on my finger in high school off and pocketed it. Innocence? Naivete? The ability to trust? My faith in men? Maybe all of the above.

"I need to go and study for your exams now," I said, turning around on my heel without another word while holding back the tears. 

What didn't I do for him? I was all but a business major at this point. I even risked getting caught writing his exams every year because he 'wasn't feeling it.' The truth? The man I loved wasn't very bright.

"For a billionaire's son, he is a cheap fuck too," I said, weeping like a baby behind the wheel of my car while staring at the stupid ring. 

I meant to give it back and break up with him, like a normal person, but my lovesick heart just wouldn't let me. Just like our relationship, it had next to no value. The diamonds weren't even real. I still cradled it like it was a fucking crown jewel. 

After being on the road for ten minutes and crying my eyes out, I called my sister Lena to talk about what happened. Maybe she would know how to fix it. How to make him love me. 

"No time to talk. Mom set me up on a blind date. Can't go. Busy prepping for finals. You'll go, right? Owe you one. Thanks," said Lena, while people chanted shots repeatedly in the background. 

Lena was older than me, but she was a selfish train wreck who still hadn't graduated, despite starting college two years before me. She had no shame about telling me she needed something, but almost never showed up for me. Why the fuck did I think calling her was a good idea? 

Because men loved Lena. Skinny, gorgeous, five foot ten, Lena. The only thing she excelled at was seduction. 

"Am I just everyone's fucking servant?" I yelled at my phone, but Lena had already hung up. 

She sent me a text. 

Fireman. Super hot. Totes your type. Mario's in an hour. Jason won't mind. Don't worry, your date will find you. 

Jason won't mind? No, I didn't suppose he would. We were spending less and less time together as a couple lately. I finally knew why. Lena's words were innocent enough, but a jab to the heart just the same.

"You know what? Fuck it. The super hot fireman won't want my pussy, but maybe he'll let me blow him. Free booze and food don't sound bad either," I said, turning the car around to head towards the restaurant while emptying my purse on the passenger seat. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Just for tonight. Jason fucking who?" I said to myself, wiping my tears as I prepared to fix my make up. 

Jason didn't have to love me. He just had to stay with me. I was a fucking smart woman. I'd find a way to make him marry me if it killed me. 

He'd fucking pay for services rendered in real diamonds and gold when I was Mrs Jason Nelson. But first, I was going to get drunk and put a random dic

k in my mouth. If he didn't have to stay true to me, why the fuck shouldn't I have some fun too?