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I enjoyed the sex so much more when I didn’t have to worry about whether the girl was into it or not. Em let me know what she enjoyed, and made it very clear she liked things a little rough, a little less vanilla. And that made her so much hotter to me.
Once we reached the pier, we gazed at each other before looking around at all the fairground rides. Em told me pretty early on when we started talking that she used to live in a little seaside town, but she moved to the city to get a better job, as the prospects weren’t great in her town. Even though she’s never looked back after the move, she told me there are elements she misses. She told me she took the beach, and the rides there for granted. Because they were always there, and were seen as more for tourists, she never really got the chance to experience them.
So, I decided the nearest seaside town would be the perfect place to give her a taste of her old town. I grew up here, and have never lived anywhere else, so I’ve been coming to this little seaside resort my whole life. It actually feels kinda nice to share this with Em, to give her a little bit of insight into what my early life was like.
I’ve always glossed over talking about my family and my childhood. Not necessarily because I had a bad one—I didn’t. I have lots of good memories, but I also have some that I’m not proud of and don’t want to share. So, it’s often easier to give minimal information and try to change the subject as quickly as possible. Though I have noticed Em is able to get little bits of information out of me, things I wouldn’t normally share. I don’t think she even notices she’s doing it, and I don’t realise I’ve opened up until afterwards.
“So, which ride should we start with?” she asks, her eyes wide as she looks at the lights flashing brightly around the pier.
“You choose,” I tell her, not bothered with what she picks. I know, chances are, I’m not going to like any of the rides. I only go on them to make myself look more masculine. I mean, don’t get me wrong, once I’m on the rides, I enjoy them, but the actual build up and getting on them, I’m not a fan of. At first I thought it was because I don’t like heights, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised it’s because I have a very healthy fear of falling.
Em’s eyes light up as she scans across the fairground rides, and given the laser focus in her gaze, she knows exactly what type of ride she’s hoping for. Let’s hope she starts with something nice and small to ease me in. Before I even have a chance to suggest that, she starts jogging towards the opposite end of the pier, a big smile on her face as she pulls me along behind her.
“Do you like the waltzers?” she asks with a giggle, and I can’t help but groan. They are most definitely not what I would count as starting out small. They may not do anything overtly dangerous, like loops or plummeting from a great height, but it’s the way they spin. It does fucking awful things to my head and stomach. And even though today is very much not a fucking date, I really don’t feel that we’re at the stage where I can vomit in front of her just yet.
Once we’re in front of the large ride, I stand there just staring as the individual waltzer cars travel around the track. If it were just that movement the ride would be quite pleasant, albeit a little boring. But then, on top of travelling around the track, the damn waltzer cars spin around, and by the looks on things, they move so quickly people are pinned to the back of their chairs.
Then, to make matters even worse, the dickcheese—who can’t be any more than sixteen—who is operating the ride, keeps manually spinning each car, making them turn quicker. It’s no wonder there are more screams coming from this ride than any others nearby.
Em looks at me, like she’s waiting for something, and that’s when my brain catches up and I remember she asked me a question. “Like is a very subjective word. I wouldn’t say I like the waltzers, no.” I shake my head quickly, as if that helps to add to the statement.
Her face drops a little, and I see her try to hide it with a smile. “Oh, okay. We can try something else,” she mumbles, and I can see the disappointment on her face. Even though she’s trying to disguise it, I can tell the sparkle in her dazzling bluey-grey eyes has dimmed.
Shaking my head, I pull her towards the queue. “I may not like them, but that doesn’t mean I won’t go on. They make me dizzy and feel sick afterwards, but I will live.”
That bright smile, and the sparkle I’ve come to enjoy are now very much evident, and as we flash the attendant our wristband, showing we have the right pass to go on the ride, she’s practically bouncing. Thankfully the wait isn’t too long, as the more I have to stand around and wait, the longer I have to change my damn mind. The attendant lets a couple of people in before us, and then we walk onto the metal structure. Em doesn’t hesitate, she heads around the front, past a couple of empty cars, and makes a beeline straight for the bright purple car. I should have known, it’s more than obvious it’s her favourite colour. Hell, the waltzer colour almost matches her hair.
She climbs in and practically pulls me down beside her, and the energy vibrating through her body has her practically shaking. As soon as we’re both seated, she pulls the bar down so it’s resting on both our laps, and when I glance over, she’s looking down at our hips and the bar, a frown on her face.
“What's up?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, trying to put her mask back into place, but I watch as she shuffles around uncomfortably, and now I’m worried. “It’s nothing.”
Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, and I make sure my tone reflects that. “Tell me what’s wrong. Now!” I don’t raise my voice, I just let her know this isn’t open for discussion. There’s something wrong with her, and I need to fix it.
Her gaze flicks from where the bar rests above my legs, over to hers, and at first I think she’s checking out my cock, but as her brows furrow deeper, her frown growing, I realise it’s definitely not that. At first she looks like she might disobey me, but with a huff she lets it go, and her voice comes out as barely a whisper. “I’m just worried because I can’t pull the bar down any further because of my fucking chunky thighs, and that means the bars not as tight on you. I understand if you want me to get off.”
I can see her eyes are filling with unshed tears and it’s obvious this is really affecting her. She really means what she’s saying, and it’s so heartbreaking. To hear the way she talks about her body, you would think she’s super obese, which is most definitely not the case. She’s a bit curvier in places than what society tells us is normal, but honestly, I think it just makes her look more real. And, she’s so amazing to hug. But this is clearly something Em worries about, and she doesn’t quite see herself the way she really is.
I don’t even really see what she’s worried about. Yes, there’s a gap of about three inches between my thigh and the bar, as her thighs are stopping it from pulling down any further. But this is the fucking waltzers, it’s not like my life is at risk because of this. In the car next to us is a big, beefy guy who must be well over six foot five, with arm muscles bigger than my thighs, and he’s just got on with a little girl who can’t be any older than six. The difference in the bar for them must be so much worse than ours, yet he doesn’t seem concerned, and neither am I. If this made the ride unsafe, they wouldn’t allow it to happen, we would all have individual safety harnesses. I need to make Emmaleigh see all this.
“Em, I need you to listen to this very carefully. You are not as big as you think you are. Yes, there’s a gap between my thigh and the bar because your thighs limit how far it can come down, but that’s not a fucking big deal. If it was, they wouldn’t allow the ride to go ahead. Besides, it’s barely noticeable. I know you hate your body, but you really don’t have to. You are beautiful, and your curves make you even more attractive. So please, don’t ruin this amazing day by worrying about things that don’t need to be worried about. Okay?”
She takes a big deep breath, and tries to discreetly sweep away the tear that’s falling from her right eye. She somehow manages to blink away the remaining, and she gives me a small smile, but this time it does light up her face, and I know I’ve got through to her—even if it is just for today. If she’s had her lack of body confidence for a long time, and has had exes who have added to these feelings, it will take me longer than a day to undo decades worth of pain and trauma. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.
* * *
As the sun finally sets on our amazing day, I look over at Em, who is watching the enchanting colours of the sunset, like she’s never quite seen anything like it before. Obviously there’s nothing overly special about the purples, blues, reds, orange, and yellow swirls that cover the sky, but you wouldn’t know that looking at Em’s expression of awe. Even I have to admit, it looks beautiful.
I let go of Emmaleigh’s hand so I can carry on eating my chips, but she doesn’t touch hers. She’s nibbled on a couple, but mostly she’s just been watching the sunset.
We’ve had the best day. We went on all the rides, from the biggest rollercoaster, to the tiniest tea-cup ride intended for children—we went on them all. We ran from one ride to the next, chuckling like teenagers. Em’s laugh really is infectious, and as she dragged me from ride to ride, I couldn’t help thinking this is without a doubt the best day I’ve had in a long time.
I told Em pretty early on, when we started queuing for our first roller coaster, that I don’t like heights or big rides like the one pulling the screams from the people riding before us. She asked me if I wanted to skip the bigger rides, and I explained that I like to push myself—I decided to leave out the fact I’m worried I won’t look manly in front of her—and she supported me, like I knew she would. She said if I didn’t want to ride, that was okay, but if I did, then she would be by my side, holding my hand, every step of the way. So that’s what we did. Every ride, no matter how fucking terrified I was, she grabbed hold of my hand and squeezed, reminding me she was there with me. I have no idea what it meant, but I took strength from her grip, and it made me enjoy the day even more.
As the day progressed, holding Em’s hand just became easy. We’d done it so much, it almost seemed like second nature, something that came naturally. I know there’s a million reasons why that should scare me, and why I should have dropped her hand quicker than I would a red hot poker, but I didn’t—I couldn’t. I don’t even want to know what that means. So, I distract myself by starting up a new conversation, in between the salty bites of chips that are making my mouth water.
“So, what are your plans for this week?” I ask, turning to look at Em as I take another chip that’s covered in tomato ketchup and shove it into my mouth.
