yelyaH

She stood there, about 5'8" in her tight blue jeans. There was no other possible fit for a body like hers. She had thick legs and a colossal ass that wobbled when she walked. Her boobs were equally mesmerising; large and pert. The cleavage over her vest top bulged uncontrollable like it was trying to escape. Her left hand was placed delicately on her wide hips and her right fought with her jeans, heaving it over the roll of her tummy, exposing the shimmer of the piercing in her belly button. Her hair was short and reddish brown but just long enough to fall lightly over her face and sit on top of her long eyelashes and dark eyebrows. It had a silky shine but sat disarrayed on her head. She had yellow eyes like pools of melted gold that twinkled in the light looking almost magical. Her plump lips were pale against her even paler face. The only colour came from her freckles and red spots. Her ears were pierced with hoops and diamonds, 4 on her right, 3 on her left. She was especially moley. Moles covered the arms, legs, tummy and face of her lightly brown skin tone; inherited from her distant italian descent. 

She had many admirers wherever she went but no heartless, sleazy fan could cure the demon inside her soul that had been eating away at her daily for as long as she could remember . The mirror that she stared into, longing to be attractive, told her she was worthless. Her spots were angry. Her eyes dull and lifeless. Her tummy just not flat enough, her arms just not slim enough, her legs just not toned enough, her boobs just not big enough. Each morning she stood in the icy shower, crying, addressing her unimportant, despicable and miserable life.