Short Chubby Woman Novels & Stories

My toes curl in embarrassment as I comb with myself to look up. The lady seemed to get over whatever was bothering her. Her intensity has faded away and a taunting smile caressed her thickly painted red lips knowingly. At the age of thirty-two, Xiomara is aptly maintained with her busty figure, short height, and curly tresses. For a woman of her business, Xiomara is surprisingly flawless with no trace of having had sex the night before and before. She could be a she-wolf with an appetite or maybe she doesn't do the business at all.

I shouted chubby girl, help me. Fat girl ... The embarrassment on Jones Davis' face disappeared, and he changed into a face of resentment. I remember. I remember everything! At that time, she suddenly began to gain weight in adolescence, and as a result, she became a ball. All her classmates pointed at her, but fortunately, she didn't develop an inferiority complex, but she became more and more unscrupulous. On the road, she heard someone call herself chubby girl, and Jones Davis blew up at that time.

Her eyes were on me right from the moment we walked in. Harold was already by her side and I saw how sick she was. Unnaturally, she looked lean. Staring at her, one could instantly tell that she used to be a chubby woman. She wore a cap and leaned on Harold's shoulder, but I could see that she didn't have any hair on her head. Her eyebrows were very thin, almost without any hair and her eyes looked tired even though she wore a smile. A beautiful smile.

Chubby. Fat. Ugly. Those words are what I grew up hearing all my life.” They stick to me like my own shadow, even when I try to push them away, they cling to my skin, whispering in the back of my mind. I don’t remember the first time someone called me chubby. Maybe because it wasn’t just one time. It was every day. Every week,and every year. In the werewolf world, beauty is strength. A slim, slender body means a strong wolf. A pretty face means better chances at finding your mate. A graceful walk means being admired, respected, chosen.

They sort of laughed sheepishly the way people do when technology outsmarts them. "Thank you so much," the mother said, throwing her bags into the room. She extended her hand and I shook it, "My name is Cassie and this is my daughter, Brittany." I reached over and shook Brittany's hand as well. Cassie was around 5'6 and around 120lbs, very slim for an older woman. Her hair was short and sort of chestnut colored and she had pretty brown eyes behind thick glasses. Her face was warm, her smile bright, and her skin relatively smooth and clear. Her body was very thin, with small, but perky breasts, and somewhat pointy joints. But she still had a feminine flair to her hips and a surprisingly big (

"What is this commotion all about? And—why are you laughing so loudly, Kendrick? Are you being naughty again?" A skinny white woman blurted in while holding a tray of food. She's wearing a white jumpsuit and her long chocolate hair is in a clean bun. With a heart-shaped face, thick eyebrows, long thick lashes, pointed nose, and pouty small lips, she's undeniably gorgeous.

Justin didn’t know if he is wrong or here every one is used to getting hit, there was no scar on any of men’s body. “Hey everybody, we have a guest here” and cold but sexy voice sounded and Justin instantly turns there, she is a woman and middle age woman but she maintains herself properly, with a thin and perfect body any young model can feel shame in front of her, her skin is creamy white with black hair little curly, long legs out of her skirt, although she is mature but she dressed herself as a young girl in college.

The country music concerts are fantastic, three women are chatting animatedly, some children play around them, one of the women calls out my attention. Wow! What a beautiful woman, I never saw her here in Portland, she must be new in town. Olive skin and short with an enlarged shape, large breasts, wide and round hips and a large turned up ass. She’s full of curves, I stop to chat with my friends, watching her movements and thinking how soft she must be.

I'd be paid for my services of course, and if possible, I could be take that godforsaken bitch, Gia, off the team. My fingers slide down to undo the buttons on my shirt while my eyes remain transfixed to my frame in the mirror. I'd always been the fleshy one. Throughout my entire childhood, everyone had called me fat. As I grew up, they coined a cuter way to say it; chubby. My palm presses down on my bloated stomach. I'd always envied Laura because she was the one with the sexy figure. She was 5'8, slender and had hips that dug in whenever she walked.

I knew she said that to spite me. “Of course not, chubby.” Her face was red immediately. She is not the only one who can play that game. The past years have taught me one or two things and I'm ready to keep fighting, “Chubby?” Meave asks I laughed, “She was fat as a kid, so everyone called her chubby.” I said to her. “Who would have known, she is now the supermodel.” Meave says “Yeah, using her body to plan and execute revenge.” I Scoffed.