I was a latchkey kid growing up. My parents both worked 30 minutes to an hour from the house, and I was too young to be left alone there all hours of the day, so my mother hired a sitter to check in and hang around for a few hours, maybe drive me somewhere occasionally so I wasn’t cooped up for all of a Texas summer. My first babysitter was Gretchen, blonde, lean, and sweet with pale eyes. But the next year was Tammy. 380 pounds of strawberry blonde, big-bellied, massive-titted kindness. She was great, and spending a summer with an SSBBW (before I ever knew what that term meant) planted the seed. Her car’s suspension sagged in her direction even when she wasn’t in it, and we replaced the loveseat she liked to sit in because it was practically concave after months of that huge ass landing in it. I found her on LinkedIn and she’s even bigger now.
In a perfect world I would pay good money for a night with her.