Would You Like Me To seduce You?

Ah, SEDUCTION.

Definition: 1.[n] enticing someone astray from right behavior
2.[n] an act of winning the love or sexual favor of someone

Yes, thats right. I am a SEDUCTRESS. I must say, Im very good at it too. Toot Toot!!!! Thats the sound of me blowing my own horn. The ability to seduce lies in all of us, I think. But, it comes naturally for me, even at my fattest.

You see, the thing about being fat with a pretty face is that there is at least one appealing thing about you. People have to look at your face when you speak. Thats when I'd do my best work. Oh, yeah. Look into my big blue eyes, Im batting my long lashes at you, taking in your every word. Im licking my wet, glossy lips and let my tongue sweep across my my mouth. I know you're watching me do that and imagining what I can do to you. My hair falls into my face and covers one eye. I brush it way and tilt my head to catch every word that tumbles out of your mouth. I touch your hand when its my turn to respond and lean in closer. Yeah, I've always had it. Its just in me.. What can I say.

Now, its even more fun. Men are so easy to seduce. They like to hear how hot they are, how sexy, how strong and virile they are. I gotta tell ya, I love making men feel good. They in turn will make you feel good, too. Keep that in mind, girls. Men really dont require much. They like to eat, sleep, have sex, and be told they have a big dick. Thats it. I said it. Its not brain surgery. I gotta tell ya. All that shit works for me, too. I think Im a man. Oh, and you dont hafta tell me I have a big dick.

I can tell you that losing 100 pounds really does make you feel sexy. I have so much confidence. Some people see it as conceit, but fuck that! I deserve to feel good about myself snd enjoy the fact that other people find me sexy and attractive. I hadnt had regular sex in over 5 years!!! I've got to catch up on what I have been missing. Nothing crazy, just some much-needed affection. I have needs too, you know!

I hadnt been "on top" for over ten years. Ten friggin years, people. Now, Its one of my favorites positions, along with doggy-style. Am I getting to risque for you yet?? Sorry. Im just sayin that sex is better now, thats all. Giddy up.

Can You See Me Now?

Ya know, its funny how losing weight and gaining confidence go hand in hand. I find it quite ironic, really. You become more of a person by becoming less of a person. At least thats the way I felt. I felt so invisible when I was so overweight, but yet I was very visible. I didnt see me and no one else did either. What bothers me is when someone I havent seen prior to my surgery, doesnt mention or notice my weightloss. To me that meant that I didnt matter enough for you to notice me............at all.

You notice me now, though. You see,along with drastic weightloss comes an incredible awakening of your sexuality and the power that comes with that. I feel like everyone is drawn to me now, whether it be male or female. I find myself flirting with everyone, whether it be conscious or not. I like to tease and titillate. I find myself walking differently so as to draw attention to myself. I NEVER wanted attention before. Now, I am a seductress. I put myself in situations where I will be noticed,good or bad. Hell, you're gonna pay attention to me and you're gonna like it, damnit!

Lets Get Physical

This actually has two connotations. The first being exercise and the second being sex.

Exercise has never been something that I could relate to. I kinda thought it was a vain activity that people did just to make themselves seem more interesting. Something they could talk about at dinner parties, like, "Hey, I did a 10k today and came in second", or "I went mountainbiking through this awesome terrain". Who gives a rat's ass? I didnt need exercise to be interesting. I already was. My ass was interesting. Everyone seemed to be interested in watching it get bigger by the day. I think some people even took bets on it.

Exercise was only something you did in gym class, and even then it was a nuisance. Ya know how many times I "forgot" my shorts? God, I hated wearing those in front of the boys. I hated having my chubby legs hanging out for all to see. My thighs would rub together and give me the worst chafing. I've started a few campfires with these things.

Now, I dont hate exercise as much. It feels good to move, run, jump, kick, and punch. The best part is that Im not out of breath. I used to get out of breath just turning over in bed, and drying off from the shower. I got to the top of my sister's staircase and then stopped to realize I just ran up with no problems and I wasnt out of breath. It felt good.

Now,the sex part. Sex wasnt so great at 280 pounds. You have a lot of limitations as to what is comfortable and what is physically possible. Although, I am quite flexible, being flat on the livingroom rug proved to be breathtaking............and, not in a good way. It literally took my breath away. I couldnt breathe down there. I think my fat was crushing my lungs. Getting up from the floor is another story. Roll over, get onto knees, one leg up, hold onto something and away we go. Im exagerating for effect here, but you get my drift.

Being on top was not happening for a couple of reasons. One was the crush factor. You ever have a fat girl riding you? Your intestines probably have suffered from that. Have u ever seen the tires of a bike when a fat person gets on? I couldnt put anyone through that. I was doing you a favor by NOT doing that. The other thing is that its uncomfortable and movement is restricted. I mean, how much up and down and back and forth could I do before I drop dead on you from the exertion? Oh, there is reason number three. How hot can I possibly look flopping all over you like a beached whale? I wanna vomit just thinking about it. Oh, uh, maybe its the Doritos and onion dip Im having while writing this.

Ok, lets go to the flipside, now. Doggy-style, baby! Ooh, how beautiful does this position look when you're this fat? I cant even think about it without having my ass tighten up. Its really disturbing for me. What do you do with all that ass in your face? Nothin, thats what. I have to move on now, otherwise the visual will blind me.

Sex now is HOT!!! The freedom that goes along with weight loss is incredible. I can do it all! I can ride like the wind, I can flip, flop, over the shoulders, behind my head, bend ova and know that although I can still put out forest fires with this ass, it looks pretty good from behind these days. Thats a good feeling. Im not totally comfortable in my skin yet, but its still a work in progess. I got my groove back. Thats whats important.

What goes down, must come up.

If you have had Lapband surgery, then you have heard of "PBing". Simply put, its throwing up. Well, not the throwing up you might be accustomed to, where you experience violent stomach spasms or contractions and then the expulsion of digested food while hovering over the porcelain god in a cold sweat. PB'ing is much less complicated and much less draining.

Pb'ing which stands for "productive burp" happens when you eat too fast,too much, or swallow too big of a bite of food. The food never reaches your stomach. It actually sits in your esophagus at the top of the band where it wont go through. So, now you have this lump of chewed up, undigested mass that wont go down. Dont even THINK about drinking anything with the false hope of helping the food go down. Its not gonna happen. As a matter of fact, it makes it worse.

I"ve made that mistake many times. What it actually does is add gunpowder to dynamite. The liquid you just drank is now sitting on top of the food that's sitting at the top of the band. What happens next? You feel really uncomfortable because this lump of food and water wont go down. You"ve made things worse with the friggin water. I forgot to tell you. You better not have gulped that water down to quickly either. Because in about 10 seconds, your ass better be at the toilet ready for the alien about to expel itself from your body at lightning spped.

If you dont drink anything, though, Its not that bad, really. I've found that all I have to do is open my mouth and out comes the offending matter. Now, Im not promoting this behavior, so relax. Its gonna happen, thats all Im saying. Im just preparing you. Try to avoid it by taking small bites, chewing till its mush, and wait 5 minutes between bites. Yeah, right.

I cant do that. First of all, I eat so fast, you would think it was my last meal right before going to the electric chair. I pb'ed constantly because even though I was "full", I wanted to eat more because it tasted so good. So, I was pb'ing to empty my band, so I could eat as much as I wanted. I would pb several times during the course of a meal.I would do this alone of course, so as not to draw attention to myself. Of course, I would feel so disgusted with myself for doing this.

Seriously, I was doing this on purpose for a long time and it ended up giving me heartburn after a while. I was taking Tums all day long. I just thought it was because I had Lapband surgery. It wasnt . It was because of me. So, Once I stopped, so did the heartburn. Go figure. I havent pb'd in 3 weeks. I feel like a junkie trying to get past the withdrawal stage. Can u believe this shit? I have an addiction to throwing up. Only me.

Are you there, God? Its me, Lisa.

I used to pray. Not anymore, though. I havent prayed since I lost my mother five years ago. I figured , whats the point? He didnt answer my prayers then, so why bother. I used to pray every night. I had a prayer routine. I prayed "in order", not of importance necessarily. When I was too tired to pray or forgot, I would have nightmares. I felt like I was being punished for not praying.

I prayed a lot as a kid. I prayed that my alcoholic father would stop drinking,I prayed for a bike, normal parents, a boyfriend, and I prayed that I would be thin. All of those prayers went unanswered.

I figured my prayers werent important enough to be answered, but that didnt stop me from doing it. He had to answer eventually, right? He hasnt yet.

I havent prayed in almost five years and I sleep like a baby. I guess it really didnt matter if I prayed or not, after all.

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. Who wrote that shit? Stick and stones will hurt and then you heal and forget about it. But, words will last forever. They are like the cockroaches of memories for me. I remember every mean thing that someone said or did to me.

All those mean words are seared into my brain and they are as follows: fat fuck, fat shit, waste, blimp, hog, whale, etc. You get my drift. I dont only remember the words, but every sentence they were included in.

I was at a club one night in the early 80's. Mind you, Ive always had a pretty face. I happen to pass a cute guy in the crowd and bumped into him by accident. I apologized and he looked at my face, smiled, looked down at the rest of me and said, "Oh, forget that." I felt like shit the rest of the night and kept that comment with me since. Another time, years before, I was about 14 years old and hanging out with our crowd and as all of us girls walked passed the boys, they whistled at us or so I thought. After they whistled, the made it clear that it wasnt meant for me by saying, " Not you, Lisa."

How dare I think that whistle included me? What was I thinking, anyway? Why would someone whistle at my 14 year old fat ass? Im 45 now and I can see that day as if it were yesterday. And, if I think about it too long, it can still make me cry.

Kids are so cruel. But, dont kid yourself, adults can be also. I was walking in a mall and a song was playing from Hall and Oates, "Youre kiss in on my Lips". I walked passed a couple of guys who as I walked by sang the lyrics as "My kiss is on your hips". I cant get a fuckin break. Isnt anyone taught about sensitivity anymore? I was always nice to the freaks. Why wasnt anyone nice to me? Now, I have become a hardass. It doesnt pay to be nice. People will shit on you if you let them. Nowadays, I'll shove those stick and stones up your ass and I have become a master at throwing words what will send you home crying and then to your therapist. Am I a little bitter? You bet your ass I am.

Let The Healing Begin

My scars are almost gone and now I am able to exercise. Oh, Joy! That means I actually have to get off my fat ass and do some kind of physical activity. Do I hafta exercise? The dotor says it is imperative. Who uses that word anymore, anyway? What happened to the word "required" or "mandatory"? Imperative? Its emperative that you take small bites, its imperative you chew slowly, its imperative you wait 5 minutes between bites, and its imperative that you exercise. Its imperative that you kiss my big ass!

We all know that 30 minutes of exercise daily is important,right? But, for some reason, it seems to be of Uber-importance for us Lapbanders. Why is that? I know why. Do I hafta tell you? Because we pretty much lose weight so quickly in the beginning, our skin cant keep up. So, excercise will help tone as we lose. Therefore, we wont be as saggy. Yeah, right? Tell that to my inner thighs and boobs.


Listen, I have great genes and good skin elasticity. But all the exercise in the world isnt gonna lift my boobs up any higher. Which, by the way, are keeping warm under my laptop. This is why I wont wear miniskirts anymore. My nipples will show. My thighs are another story. I've always hated them. You see, I was lucky enough to get the bottom-heavy gene from both sides. I call it "double whammy DNA". I think a lot of you know what Im sayin, right? Can I get a Hallalujah on that one?

My thighs have always lived in a world of their own. My bottom half was always bigger than the top. They never cooperated with the rest of me. Jeans were a nightmare to buy, because once I found a pair to get passed my thighs, they would gap at my waist. Then I discovered Lycra/Spandex. But with that discovery, came delusion. I could fit into a smaller size than I actually was. And, let me tell you, I could squeeze this ass into a size 16, even though I was clearly 1 size 20 or bigger.

It was a curse and a blessing in one. You see, If I was in a car, you couldnt see me from the waist down and I looked like a moderately thin person. But, one I stepped out of the car......POW!!!!! My secret was out. But, even that was shortlived, because once I ballooned up to 280, being smaller on top wasnt helping anymore. I just looked big all over.

I hated my thighs and still do. My mother had these thighs and every time I look at them, I am reminded of her. When we looked at her old pictures, she would say, "I was always 118-120". Ma,are you kidding me? You mean 118-120 in one thigh, right? No, let me stop. She wasnt fat as a young woman, just a little bottom-heavy. She was like the "J-lo" of her time.

Pat had me write a list of things that I liked about my legs and I had a really hard time with that. The only thing I liked about them was that they gave me the ability to walk. Thats it. I had nothin else.