How to Have Sex With a Fat Girl
Touch—and I cannot stress this enough—the FUPA.
By Gina Tonic; illustrated by Kim Cowie
Sep 18 2019, 11:00am
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This article originally appeared on VICE UK.
The first few times I fucked as a fat girl, I exclusively wore my boyfriend’s Superman hoodie to hide my body. I was 16, a size 14 and it was 2009—long before body positivity hit the mainstream or my Tumblr feed. Now, as a 26-year-old woman wearing a size 20, sex has changed year after year as my body has gotten bigger and the dating pool has gotten smaller. With plus size partners, we can press our bellies together, grab each others bodies, and enjoy the thickness of our flesh in privacy (or with other partners, if they’re game for group sex). But fucking a fat girl when you don’t know her, what she likes, or what she dislikes, is apparently a minefield for most people with slimmer frames.
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Before fucking someone new, I feel the need to address my fatness before we meet. My Bumble bio reads "honey with a tummy," my photo selection has multiple full body pictures, and still I always end up asking: “How long have you liked fat girls?”
The answers vary from “never” to “it’s a preference” to “I never noticed.” The latter is the most insulting. I’m the size of the elephant in the room and you want to pretend that I don’t weigh double whatever you do? In reality, sometimes I’ll have sex with a fat fetishist to feel like a gorgeous goddess and the rest of the time I’m just making sure they’re not a fatphobe before I let them poke a finger in.
In short: it's a minefield. If only someone could write a handy guide...
Touch the Fupa
It’s a universal truth known by fat girls that the FUPA is the most intimidating part of our body. I know this because my FUPA has been touched so little that I’m surprised she hasn’t shriveled up and fallen off. I think this is what some guys were hoping would happen too. Avoiding belly touching makes it all the more obvious that the belly is there. If you eat a cupcake and leave the frosting on the plate, it doesn’t stop the icing from existing (or tasting like a treat).
If you want to fuck me, fuck all of me. The hottest hookups are the ones that grab my belly like its a third tit, kiss the flesh on the way down to the kitty, and aren’t pretending my body is less than it is. You’ll be surprised at how hot holding on to soft flesh feels when you get over yourself, get a grip, and get into the actual body of the fat girl you’re sleeping with.
Stop Mentioning Skinny Girls
I can see it on your lips. It’s dying to jump off. You’re deciding between “I’ve always wanted to fuck a fat girl” or “I prefer your curves to thin girls.” If you’ve ever wondered the quickest way to kill a vibe, this is it. You’re not special for wanting to fuck a fat girl. There’s pages upon pages of Pornhub videos of men fantasizing about it, and it doesn’t make a girl feel special to be told the reason you’re desired is because of your body size.
ADVERTISEMENT
If you’re fucking a person specifically to fulfill a fetish, the least you owe that person is to tell them about the fetish. You’ll be surprised how many fat women will be down for being a BBW, but forcing a kink on a woman who just wants to have sex is fucked up. Might I introduce you to Feabie, where my best fat friend told me I could find a fat boyfriend and all I got was harassed for pics of me eating twelve Pot Noodles. It ain’t for me, but there’s plenty of feeders, feedees, and fat fetishists to choose from.
Use Your Imagination
In the BBC DocumentaryToo Fat for Love, blogger Emma Tamsin-Hill visits a London sex emporium where her and fellow fat friends get tips from sex coach Athena Mae—who shows the ladies how to support their weight while on top, different positions for face fucking, and how to use a sex wedge pillow. Knowing all this info as a fat girl is definitely helpful, but as a single woman, if a guy whips out a sex wedge as soon as I arrive at the booty call, I have to say I will be swiftly exiting the booty call.
Instead, use this info with a little less rehearsal. Have more than two pillows on your bed so you can pop one under you if needed. If your bed is a flimsy piece of shit, have sex on the floor. Can’t fuck in the shower? Finger me in the bath. Stop trying to force our bodies into doing the wheelbarrow when the only handles either of us can grab on to are love handles.
Trust Us
When a skinny girl shares a meme about not getting on top, it's a funny shared moment of laziness between sisters. But when a fat girl says “no” in the moment and some stupid cis dude tries to encourage her to climb aboard by stating “you won’t crush me,” the world feels like it’s falling down. I know I won’t crush you, as I am not a falling building or that giant boulder from Indiana Jones, but the implication that I could is there when you say that I won’t. Don’t try and motivate me into doing the missionary position; you are not Derrick Evans.
In almost all the sex I’ve ever had, I’ve known what I want more than my partner does. Mainly because I’ve been nearer my clit for longer than anyone else. This is true of anyone who has ever owned a clit. If your girl says she doesn’t want to get on top, it’s probably because getting on top is a lot more effort than bending over and taking it doggy—not because she’s waiting for someone to caress her face and tell her it’ll be okay. It’ll be even better lying back and taking it.
Don't Bother
If a fat girl is your last choice on a night out, your friend’s girlfriend’s friend at a party, or just something you think you should try out—put your pants back on and go home. Fucking someone out of desperation or experimentation isn’t a good enough reason to be fucking them at all.
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My FUPA
"Body positivity" is bullshit if it's only positive about a certain type of plus-size body. And if I want to change that, I need to expose the one thing I've always been afraid of: my gut.
By Alison Stevenson
Mar 17 2017, 5:46pm
ShareTweetSnap
PHOTO BY MEGAN KOESTER
Bigger female bodies are being praised by the mainstream media and fashion industry now more than ever. Last year, Sports Illustrated put plus-size model Ashley Graham on its cover, a highly celebrated editorial move. It also recently featured another popular and curvaceous model, Hunter McGrady. Dove has long been a presence in the movement to show "real" bodies in its ad campaigns; brands like Lane Bryant and Aerie have followed.
ADVERTISEMENT
It's impossible for me to peruse Instagram these days without feeling bombarded by accounts that sexualize women's curves, thickness, fatness—whatever you want to call it. In the comments on these alternative thirst traps lie a parade of heart-eye emojis and watery squirts meant to symbolize ejaculation. In a fucked-up way, that's what we fought for, isn't it? Yet something still feels off about it all. This brand of body positivity makes me feel left out, because there's something missing from most of these models' bodies: bellies.
The bodies I'm seeing touted by "woke" advertisements and body-positive campaigns tend to show women with larger thighs, fuller figures, bigger butts, and wider hips. That's all fine. But until we let the stomach join in on the fun, we have a long way to go when it comes to breaking free from problematic female beauty standards.
Of course, there are plus-size models with bellies, like Tess Holiday (who was proclaimed the "world's first size 22 supermodel" on a 2015 cover of People and has only seen more well-deserved success since). They're just vastly outnumbered by models with shapely hips and visible abs. Which makes me feel like yet again like I could not compare, but now it was worse, because I'm being made to feel like I should finally feel that way.
I refer to my body type as "perpetually six months pregnant." Back when I gave a shit, every weight loss tactic I tried proved unsuccessful at getting rid of my gut. My family has tried desperately to help, too—for my 18th birthday, my mom bought me a Curves membership, thinking that was something I'd actually want. Ironic, seeing as my body type is largely determined by genetics, as most are.
ADVERTISEMENT
Most women in my family are fellow members of the gaping gut committee. But that's never stopped me from blaming myself for my stomach—I'll admit that even when I began to embrace body positivity and my own curves, the one thing I still secretly wished I could get rid of was my gut. It was the albatross hanging around my waist. I ate nothing but quinoa and cabbage and wondered why it wouldn't just leave me alone.
My stomach was something I still tried to hide in photos. I designed entire outfits around it. I figured that was OK behavior as long as I took pride in the rest of my body—we all have something about ourselves we wish we could change, no matter how confident we feel otherwise, right? But after further self-reflection, I realized exactly why I hate my guts (literally): It was the one thing preventing me from looking like those inescapable plus-size bodies that have cropped up at every turn since the dawn of this decade. I was supposed to love my body, but I still wasn't the "right" kind of fat.
Sarah Murnen, a social psychologist and gender studies professor at Kenyon College in Ohio who has studied the sexualization of women over the past 25 years, said she believes that "body positivity" doesn't actually give rise to fatter bodies. Instead, it's given rise to what she calls the "curvaceous ideal," a bigger-sized body that's bigger in all the right places. "The curvaceous ideal is about being sexy," she explained.
ADVERTISEMENT
The issue lies in the fact that these curvaceous bodies are often marketed as a progressive step forward for women while still managing to exclude body types like mine (and various others, too). That doesn't mean we should stop promoting those bodies—until the last decade or so, the rail-thin fit ideal has been pretty much all we'd see on TV and in magazines.
It would be good to see even more inclusivity, and this inclusivity has to come from us, women who don't fit that plus-size model mold. It can't come from companies with a product to sell or publications trying to be woke. And while some might argue that sexualizing the gut (or whatever other "undesirable" aspect of the female body we're not seeing promoted today) is just as problematic, the fact remains that we have to think deeper about how we differentiate sexual objectification from empowerment.
We can't feel ashamed when we want to feel desired, and it's not wrong to want sexual attention—I yearn for it pretty much all the time. In the past, I tried to get it by forcing my body into that plus-size ideal. I'd hide my gut (as well as my stretch marks, cellulite, and body hair) because I continued to fear how men would see them. It wasn't empowering, because I was still giving power to what I felt others wanted to see from my body. If things were truly up to me, my gut would have been the star of the show.
Now I present myself with a freed FUPA. My belly is no longer locked in captivity. I've been exposing my body, belly, and all.
ADVERTISEMENT
I feel fuckable. And I like feeling fuckable on my own terms. I couldn't really care less about whether people dislike what they see. If you don't like it, then I'm not trying to fuck you, so your opinion is irrelevant.
Of course, people will be mean. If I've learned anything from being an opinionated woman online, it's that they'll tell you to stop and work hard to shit on your parade. But if we work together to support one another while they try—if we build one another up as we display our "unconventional" bodies—the negativity will drown out until all our bodies are conventional.
Touch—and I cannot stress this enough—the FUPA.
By Gina Tonic; illustrated by Kim Cowie
Sep 18 2019, 11:00am
ShareTweetSnap
This article originally appeared on VICE UK.
The first few times I fucked as a fat girl, I exclusively wore my boyfriend’s Superman hoodie to hide my body. I was 16, a size 14 and it was 2009—long before body positivity hit the mainstream or my Tumblr feed. Now, as a 26-year-old woman wearing a size 20, sex has changed year after year as my body has gotten bigger and the dating pool has gotten smaller. With plus size partners, we can press our bellies together, grab each others bodies, and enjoy the thickness of our flesh in privacy (or with other partners, if they’re game for group sex). But fucking a fat girl when you don’t know her, what she likes, or what she dislikes, is apparently a minefield for most people with slimmer frames.
ADVERTISEMENT
Before fucking someone new, I feel the need to address my fatness before we meet. My Bumble bio reads "honey with a tummy," my photo selection has multiple full body pictures, and still I always end up asking: “How long have you liked fat girls?”
The answers vary from “never” to “it’s a preference” to “I never noticed.” The latter is the most insulting. I’m the size of the elephant in the room and you want to pretend that I don’t weigh double whatever you do? In reality, sometimes I’ll have sex with a fat fetishist to feel like a gorgeous goddess and the rest of the time I’m just making sure they’re not a fatphobe before I let them poke a finger in.
In short: it's a minefield. If only someone could write a handy guide...
Touch the Fupa
It’s a universal truth known by fat girls that the FUPA is the most intimidating part of our body. I know this because my FUPA has been touched so little that I’m surprised she hasn’t shriveled up and fallen off. I think this is what some guys were hoping would happen too. Avoiding belly touching makes it all the more obvious that the belly is there. If you eat a cupcake and leave the frosting on the plate, it doesn’t stop the icing from existing (or tasting like a treat).
If you want to fuck me, fuck all of me. The hottest hookups are the ones that grab my belly like its a third tit, kiss the flesh on the way down to the kitty, and aren’t pretending my body is less than it is. You’ll be surprised at how hot holding on to soft flesh feels when you get over yourself, get a grip, and get into the actual body of the fat girl you’re sleeping with.
Stop Mentioning Skinny Girls
I can see it on your lips. It’s dying to jump off. You’re deciding between “I’ve always wanted to fuck a fat girl” or “I prefer your curves to thin girls.” If you’ve ever wondered the quickest way to kill a vibe, this is it. You’re not special for wanting to fuck a fat girl. There’s pages upon pages of Pornhub videos of men fantasizing about it, and it doesn’t make a girl feel special to be told the reason you’re desired is because of your body size.
ADVERTISEMENT
If you’re fucking a person specifically to fulfill a fetish, the least you owe that person is to tell them about the fetish. You’ll be surprised how many fat women will be down for being a BBW, but forcing a kink on a woman who just wants to have sex is fucked up. Might I introduce you to Feabie, where my best fat friend told me I could find a fat boyfriend and all I got was harassed for pics of me eating twelve Pot Noodles. It ain’t for me, but there’s plenty of feeders, feedees, and fat fetishists to choose from.
Use Your Imagination
In the BBC DocumentaryToo Fat for Love, blogger Emma Tamsin-Hill visits a London sex emporium where her and fellow fat friends get tips from sex coach Athena Mae—who shows the ladies how to support their weight while on top, different positions for face fucking, and how to use a sex wedge pillow. Knowing all this info as a fat girl is definitely helpful, but as a single woman, if a guy whips out a sex wedge as soon as I arrive at the booty call, I have to say I will be swiftly exiting the booty call.
Instead, use this info with a little less rehearsal. Have more than two pillows on your bed so you can pop one under you if needed. If your bed is a flimsy piece of shit, have sex on the floor. Can’t fuck in the shower? Finger me in the bath. Stop trying to force our bodies into doing the wheelbarrow when the only handles either of us can grab on to are love handles.
Trust Us
When a skinny girl shares a meme about not getting on top, it's a funny shared moment of laziness between sisters. But when a fat girl says “no” in the moment and some stupid cis dude tries to encourage her to climb aboard by stating “you won’t crush me,” the world feels like it’s falling down. I know I won’t crush you, as I am not a falling building or that giant boulder from Indiana Jones, but the implication that I could is there when you say that I won’t. Don’t try and motivate me into doing the missionary position; you are not Derrick Evans.
In almost all the sex I’ve ever had, I’ve known what I want more than my partner does. Mainly because I’ve been nearer my clit for longer than anyone else. This is true of anyone who has ever owned a clit. If your girl says she doesn’t want to get on top, it’s probably because getting on top is a lot more effort than bending over and taking it doggy—not because she’s waiting for someone to caress her face and tell her it’ll be okay. It’ll be even better lying back and taking it.
Don't Bother
If a fat girl is your last choice on a night out, your friend’s girlfriend’s friend at a party, or just something you think you should try out—put your pants back on and go home. Fucking someone out of desperation or experimentation isn’t a good enough reason to be fucking them at all.
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My FUPA
"Body positivity" is bullshit if it's only positive about a certain type of plus-size body. And if I want to change that, I need to expose the one thing I've always been afraid of: my gut.
By Alison Stevenson
Mar 17 2017, 5:46pm
ShareTweetSnap
PHOTO BY MEGAN KOESTER
Bigger female bodies are being praised by the mainstream media and fashion industry now more than ever. Last year, Sports Illustrated put plus-size model Ashley Graham on its cover, a highly celebrated editorial move. It also recently featured another popular and curvaceous model, Hunter McGrady. Dove has long been a presence in the movement to show "real" bodies in its ad campaigns; brands like Lane Bryant and Aerie have followed.
ADVERTISEMENT
It's impossible for me to peruse Instagram these days without feeling bombarded by accounts that sexualize women's curves, thickness, fatness—whatever you want to call it. In the comments on these alternative thirst traps lie a parade of heart-eye emojis and watery squirts meant to symbolize ejaculation. In a fucked-up way, that's what we fought for, isn't it? Yet something still feels off about it all. This brand of body positivity makes me feel left out, because there's something missing from most of these models' bodies: bellies.
The bodies I'm seeing touted by "woke" advertisements and body-positive campaigns tend to show women with larger thighs, fuller figures, bigger butts, and wider hips. That's all fine. But until we let the stomach join in on the fun, we have a long way to go when it comes to breaking free from problematic female beauty standards.
Of course, there are plus-size models with bellies, like Tess Holiday (who was proclaimed the "world's first size 22 supermodel" on a 2015 cover of People and has only seen more well-deserved success since). They're just vastly outnumbered by models with shapely hips and visible abs. Which makes me feel like yet again like I could not compare, but now it was worse, because I'm being made to feel like I should finally feel that way.
I refer to my body type as "perpetually six months pregnant." Back when I gave a shit, every weight loss tactic I tried proved unsuccessful at getting rid of my gut. My family has tried desperately to help, too—for my 18th birthday, my mom bought me a Curves membership, thinking that was something I'd actually want. Ironic, seeing as my body type is largely determined by genetics, as most are.
ADVERTISEMENT
Most women in my family are fellow members of the gaping gut committee. But that's never stopped me from blaming myself for my stomach—I'll admit that even when I began to embrace body positivity and my own curves, the one thing I still secretly wished I could get rid of was my gut. It was the albatross hanging around my waist. I ate nothing but quinoa and cabbage and wondered why it wouldn't just leave me alone.
My stomach was something I still tried to hide in photos. I designed entire outfits around it. I figured that was OK behavior as long as I took pride in the rest of my body—we all have something about ourselves we wish we could change, no matter how confident we feel otherwise, right? But after further self-reflection, I realized exactly why I hate my guts (literally): It was the one thing preventing me from looking like those inescapable plus-size bodies that have cropped up at every turn since the dawn of this decade. I was supposed to love my body, but I still wasn't the "right" kind of fat.
Sarah Murnen, a social psychologist and gender studies professor at Kenyon College in Ohio who has studied the sexualization of women over the past 25 years, said she believes that "body positivity" doesn't actually give rise to fatter bodies. Instead, it's given rise to what she calls the "curvaceous ideal," a bigger-sized body that's bigger in all the right places. "The curvaceous ideal is about being sexy," she explained.
ADVERTISEMENT
The issue lies in the fact that these curvaceous bodies are often marketed as a progressive step forward for women while still managing to exclude body types like mine (and various others, too). That doesn't mean we should stop promoting those bodies—until the last decade or so, the rail-thin fit ideal has been pretty much all we'd see on TV and in magazines.
It would be good to see even more inclusivity, and this inclusivity has to come from us, women who don't fit that plus-size model mold. It can't come from companies with a product to sell or publications trying to be woke. And while some might argue that sexualizing the gut (or whatever other "undesirable" aspect of the female body we're not seeing promoted today) is just as problematic, the fact remains that we have to think deeper about how we differentiate sexual objectification from empowerment.
We can't feel ashamed when we want to feel desired, and it's not wrong to want sexual attention—I yearn for it pretty much all the time. In the past, I tried to get it by forcing my body into that plus-size ideal. I'd hide my gut (as well as my stretch marks, cellulite, and body hair) because I continued to fear how men would see them. It wasn't empowering, because I was still giving power to what I felt others wanted to see from my body. If things were truly up to me, my gut would have been the star of the show.
Now I present myself with a freed FUPA. My belly is no longer locked in captivity. I've been exposing my body, belly, and all.
ADVERTISEMENT
I feel fuckable. And I like feeling fuckable on my own terms. I couldn't really care less about whether people dislike what they see. If you don't like it, then I'm not trying to fuck you, so your opinion is irrelevant.
Of course, people will be mean. If I've learned anything from being an opinionated woman online, it's that they'll tell you to stop and work hard to shit on your parade. But if we work together to support one another while they try—if we build one another up as we display our "unconventional" bodies—the negativity will drown out until all our bodies are conventional.