Me and Fat Marge

Erotic Romance

Me and Fat Marge

I look with pity at my old friend Brent, his warm brown eyes so filled with sadness that tears are threatening to trickle down his usually buoyant cheeks. It’s the first time I’ve visited Middle-of-Nowheresville since my friend’s wedding nearly a year before, and my heart aches to find him so disconsolate. “Where’s Marge?” I say, looking around for his new bride, a pretty, plump, charmer of a woman with a sparkling personality and a passion for creative cookery. He swallows. “In there,” he says, shrugging a shoulder towards the slider opening onto the living room. I look at the enormous wom...

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