Fat people are, on average, better lovers than anybody else.

 

There is no such thing as the wrong body. I don’t think thin people are more likely to be bad in

bed; I’ve slept with enough thin people to know that it’s a different experience, but not a

substandard one.

 

However, all other things being equal, fat people start off kinder and more receptive to kindness.

The soft animal of your body desires other soft animals to mold and meld into. The fat body

enfolds and welcomes; it offers no forbidding flatness, no ungenerous corners. It offers

enmeshment, a borderless transgression against the idea of the separate individual.

 

Sex is vulnerable. We all feel like our bodies are not good enough, not hard enough, not hot

enough. We all unveil ourselves to a lover, hoping for kindness at worst and wild desire at best.

 

Fat people are commonly not shown kindness and hardly ever shown wild desire. We know that

vulnerability to a degree that most thin or even average people cannot imagine. The result is a burgeoning sweetness and a rabid commitment to being kind to the bodies that are unveiled to

us. We are ready to give it and receive it; we do not need to age or mature into that expectation.

It is upon us from the first stirrings of puberty, where we are taught that we will not be wanted,

and it spurs us to learn to be great in bed. It lasts until we fatly die.

 

I remember once I was having sex with an obscenely muscular body, a personal trainer who

spent every waking hour perfecting a body that was in walking fact an advertisement for his

services. He was attracted to me for my heedless excess; he saw in me the opportunity to sink

hands and mouth and other parts into his cheat day made flesh. While we were engaged in the

act, he was watching the flexion of his own abs in the mirror.

 

A lover of mine told me recently, from the angled repose of his own thinness, that to him a fat

body suggested the physical evidence of excess desire, a commitment to too much pleasure.

That’s not, in truth, what makes a body fat. But I loved the idea that I was hedonism made flesh.

I represented the same thing to him that I had to the personal trainer, but with the inverse moral

assumption: the trainer had believed that that my body was taboo and his virtue was compressed into a tight six-pack just beside it. The juxtaposed angels and demons of our nature got him off. The thin lover who surrendered to the hedonism of my body just liked it because it felt good.

 

Fat sex is embodied, gripping, decadent sex. Imagine someone who already understands that the body is imperfect and desire is multifaceted and strange. Bring to your bed the heat and

comforting warmth of a weighted blanket with a will to make you come.

 

If you enjoyed today’s moot, follow Meg Elison on Twitter and Instagram. Also, check out her website and recently released book, Number One Fan. If you are feeling generous, consider donating to the People’s Programs, Meg’s charity of choice.