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I agree with Lobo lunar. If you love someone, their body doesn't matter. However, I have to admit... when you're fucking someone, their body becomes relevant.

To me, there's healthy fat and unhealthy fat, healthy skinny and unhealthy skinny. Healthy is what matters. I used to date a woman who's six feet tall and probably about 200 lbs. She's a big intelligent polish girl, rosy-cheeked and athletic, with clear blue eyes. She was and is a wonderful speciman. She plays softball and volleyball and I would so rather be boinking her right now than typing this sentence. Or this sentence. (Actually, I take that back; that's not really a sentence.)

Her ass deserves a seperate paragraph. She had a beautiful round ass. Her ass was sheer poetry... and I'm not talking about some skinny little haiku! After we broke up, she complained that I hadn't tried hard enough to fuck her in the ass. I think she said that to torment me... and it sure worked!

One thing the world has long needed is a standardized breakdown of female body types-- maybe male body types, too, for all I know. Nowhere is this more badly needed than in the area of pornography. If you download a porn file called "fat girl", you never know what you'll get. Fortunately, the situation has vastly improved with the recent introduction of the "chubby" designation. Chubby means "slightly fat", and I find it to be pretty consistent in that. I also find that, for me, "Chubby" is definitely a good thing. Gimme Chubby!

When it comes to women's bodies, I need a little imperfection. No woman is truly beautiful, at least in a way that I can respond to, without some kind of imperfection; it's like the carbon in steel, the garlic in the guacamole. A litle extra body fat, some freckles, a short squat frame, a suggestion of loose skin around the eyes, breasts that sag a little... these details are poigniant, feminine. They convey a tender vulnerability. They represent chaos, decay, mortality... these are things that we need to love, because they are always with us. Loving them in a woman makes love more wise and all-encompasing. If truth really is beauty and beauty truth (can't remember the name of the poet I'm citing), how can there be beauty without imperfection? Every woman's imperfections mark her as unique.

Of course, the physical imperfections of a woman allow me to be comfortable with my own physical imperfections. I'm a little bit chubby myself, after all-- and a big beautiful woman can even make me feel glad I'm they way I am... and I realy really love that feeling.