I have something I've noticed about men who appreciate large women. Let me first say that I adore the adoration, which seems to be exclusive to these men. Men who appreciate the soft fullness of a Rubenesque woman, look at her--at me--as though taking in a fine painting. I take a joy in the covetous gaze of my hips. I repress a giggle when a friendly hug touches my back, my arms, and that roll... Yes, the one that does not border the breast or a thigh, or indeed, any errogenous zone. And yet, when men touch me, it seems to be where their hand comes to rest...and then there's a gentle rub. It could almost believe to be absent-minded, except for the unerring placement of the hand and the precise pressure of the stroke. Every man has a different kiss, a different embrace, a different method of seduction, but the rub, you see, the RUB is universal. I like the rub. I like what it represents. I salute every man who has mastered it and every woman who can accept it without self-consciousness.
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