Nobody's Fool

I am trying to create a new type of heroine, one who isn't beautiful by conventional standards or the perfect size.  Instead, she is average, overweight and has very low self-esteem, which will make it extra difficult for our hero to convince her she's perfect to him.  Please tell me what you think. *****Meme's POV**** 3 days, it had been 3 long days since I drove that very drunk Adonis from the bar back to his home.  Why can’t I get his gorgeous face and perfect body out of my mind?  Ok, maybe I’m naïve, who am I kidding with only 3 bed partners in my life time, I’m extremely naïve. I was so overprotected by my parents and 3 older brothers, I was like 28 before I lost my virginity to the one I call a Use-Her/Lose-Her.  Man, I wish I could take that back.  In fact, the second guy was a weekend thing and got engaged to someone else like 4 months after we hooked up, but OMG he knew what he was doing.  So, I wouldn’t have minded giving him my virtue.  And what can’t I say about the third guy, we met online gaming together and had a 5 year long-distance (21 hour drive each way), but he had been breastfed for way too long if you catch my meaning, nothing was touched below my waist until he slid inside.  I would fake it to try to get him to “get off” so he would get off me at times, 45 minutes bumping and grinding is too long in my book, especially since he wasn’t giving me anything but sore muscles in my legs from keeping them hooked around his back.  I could go into more detail about them, but why I am better off without any of them. In fact, I decided if I was going to let a fourth man be intimate with me it would only be after he put a ring on my finger and gave me his last name, and he would be the 4th and final man for me. “Yeah right, there won’t ever be a 4th guy who is desperate enough to marry you before humping you.  Dream on, ugly!” Screamed my inner hater. “You have driven over 300 extremely drunk men home and none of them would have touched you with a ten foot pole, even with their ‘Beer goggles’ on.” She taunted, “Why fixate on this guy when you know he couldn’t see how gross you are in the dark of night.”  She was right, that is why for 2 years as a ride-share driver, I preferred nights, so no one could get a good look at me, and see how repulsive really I was.  I had many cute guys ride in my car drunk and horny, but none had ever given me a second glance or asked me to spend time with them after I drop them off.  For safety reasons, I would never have taken anyone up who offered, but it kind of stung that no one even tried.  So for 3 days I had daydreams about Jonathan S. (that’s all the app shows for names), he was one the few who asked if it was ok to ride up front, instead of in the back like I was just a chauffeur (I know, I know that is what I am).  Most are too busy with their phones to bother trying to have a conversation with, but he kept asking me questions about my family, my dreams for the future and so many more things.  Like he really wanted to get to know me as a person, not just someone who got him home safely after drinking too much at a bar. This is crazy, I told myself on the 2nd night I parked outside the bar I picked him up at, hoping he would be there and need another ride.  I had decided that I wouldn’t be there again tonight.  It was too “stalker-ish” if that’s a word.  I was going to get rides in a completely different part of town tonight 3 days of thinking about his laugh when I talked about what meat-heads my brothers were or those perfect abs hiding under that super tight t-shirt was getting me too hot under the waistline and cold showers weren’t helping at all. So, why did my heart skip a beat when I thought about him, about how he reached out his hand at the end of the ride to thank me like he wanted to shake mine and instead turned my hand over and gave a quick kiss to the inside of my wrist all the while keeping his eyes locked with me. With the door open and the dome light shining down even my baseball cap rim couldn’t hide the quick breath I took when he did that.  Hopefully the rim did hide my eyes so he wouldn’t be able to see them get darker with desire, since that way to brief contact sent an electric shock thru my arm and down to my lady bits when got really damp really fast.  I was defenseless against the aftermath of his touch, if he had kept kissing up my arm I would have gone anywhere with him with no other encouragement, and I would have forgotten my 4th and final rule.  DANG IT!!! Why me???? I can still remember the look on his face before he got out of the car, like he was torn between going inside or who knows, there goes my mind daydreaming and trying to make something there that isn’t. The more I tried to analyze and rationalize what happened the more I became convinced he was just one of those guys who gets very happy and affectionate when drunk.  Not that he was looking at me like he wanted to take my ball cap off and kiss me for real, I mean, he did leave the car and go inside walking away from me.  I’m OFFICALLY done thinking about him.  I need to focus on something ANYTHING else.  So I start cleaning my cat’s litter that can shut down any libido in 5 seconds flat.