|07-18-2007, 06:57 PM||#1|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Austin's Diner Chapters 1-14 - by Elroy Cohen (~BBW (Multiple), ~BHM, Eating, ~~WG)
~BBW (Multiple), ~BHM, Eating, ~~WG - A diner with a mysterious owner serves irresistible comfort food that makes everyone clean their plate!
Chapters 1 - 14
By Elroy Cohen
Chapter One - INTRO
Austin’s Diner had been in business on a busy street corner in the heart of downtown Houston since the mid seventies. Until five years ago, however, it had been only moderately successful at its best, and was starting to lose money. Then a new owner took over and quickly turned the place around completely. The name was kept, but the small, nearly unnoticeable sign in the window was replaced with a large three-dimensional sign hanging out over the entrance.
Inside, the décor was revamped as a retro 50s style diner, from the black and white checkerboard floor to the bright red vinyl on the seats and booths. The new owner took over as cook, completely redoing the entire menu. Attractive, friendly waitresses were hired to serve patrons. The formula, as simple as it was, worked amazingly well. Before long the once faltering business was turned into a huge success.
In a very short period of time it became known for its large portions of amazing food and friendly atmosphere. It soon had crowds of devoted regulars as well as tourists from all over the country filling up the booths, tables and counter almost around the clock. On the surface it seemed like a typical classic American eatery that had managed to find its niche. But there were a few things about Austin’s Diner that made it quite different from typical diners.
The owner himself was a bit of a mystery. In appearance, he was a very handsome, tall man, with a dark complexion. He appeared slender, with shaggy black and gray hair and piercing blue eyes. He usually sported a couple days' worth of stubble, which made it hard to judge his age. Some people guessed he was in his mid-thirties while others said he had to be well into his forties. Instead of putting his own name on the front of the diner, he not only kept the existing name, he even adopted it as his own.
Soon everyone knew him only as Austin, and as time passed few people remembered his real name, if anyone had known it at all. As the diner’s only cook, Austin managed to be seen every day by throngs of customers and at the same time seemed very reclusive. He rarely came out from the kitchen into the dining area. He seemed friendly enough at a distance; he would acknowledge regulars with a wave through the pass-through if they called out to him, but that was about it. He rarely even said much to most of his staff; he let his head waitress manage them and he kept to the cooking.
No one really knew what he had done before he bought the diner. It was even less clear where he got the money to buy it with. With so little known about the man, rumors began to spread about him and his past. People said he never left the diner, and that he was a fierce perfectionist who refused to hire another cook, and that he only slept in the back office during slow periods. Some said he was once a highly respected chef from New York who had a breakdown and bought the diner to get a fresh start. Others thought he was in the witness protection program. Neither Austin nor his employees would ever address the rumors directly, which ended up being good for business, as it gave people something to talk about.
Now if the diner’s owner was a bit of an enigma who piqued people's interest and brought them to the diner, the food served there was nothing short of legendary and kept the people coming back. Meals were served in astronomical portions. They were piled high on large plates that were completely hidden by the rich comfort foods overflowing the edges. First-timers to the diner would always be amazed and commented how they would be able to eat for days.
That was where the legendary part comes in, however. In the time since the diner had been opened, nobody had ever taken any food home, or even left any on their plate. Once a diner took their first bite, it was like they became possessed. They seemed compelled to finish everything that had been set in front of them, even if it meant stuffing themselves beyond their normal limits. This was true regardless of whether it was a burly football player type or a tiny little waif of a woman.
And these ridiculously sized meals that were devoured in their entirety were not the trendy, health conscious fare served at other establishments. Entrees were either greasy, high calorie, high fat, high sugar, deep fried, or all of the above. It was not unusual to see patrons leaning back in a chair, gingerly rubbing their distended bellies, with their pants unfastened after a meal. Their eyes would glaze over as the waitress would tell them about the infamous dessert menu, which, despite the uncomfortable tautness of their stomachs, customers were seemingly unable to resist. Out-of-Towners would come for one meal and would end up returning for every meal they ate while on their trip.
While tourists and business travelers would leave town with indigestion and their clothes fitting tighter than when they arrived, the diner’s regular patrons had a more noticeable consequence of indulging at the diner. The immense portions of rich high-calorie food eaten on a regular basis would quickly show up on their waistline.
Three young ladies, who worked as tellers at a nearby bank, were lunch regulars over the past three years. They would only miss for vacations and sick days. Their lunch choice was the same every day, the taco salad - a tortilla bowl so large it resembled a bucket, filled to the top with a mixture of meat, beans and cheese (absolutely no lettuce), and topped off with a huge scoop of sour cream.
All three women would polish off the meal in less than half an hour to make sure they had time for dessert. For that they would each get a different dish, so they could trade bites off each other’s enormous sweet treat. By the time they finished, they had each consumed more calories than the average person ate in two days, and they had done so happily chatting with each other the whole time.
After three years of lunches this gluttonous, the women were each now sixty to seventy pounds heavier. The group now struggled to fit into their favorite booth together. Two of the women were quite top heavy and had to suck in their guts to slide into place. Once they exhaled, the edge of the table deeply creased their doughy midsections. The third teller always sat opposite her friends because her wide hips and prominent saddlebags took up more than half the bench once the cellulite spread out as she sat.
Despite the trios’ rather rapid transformation from "normal sized," to "plump," to "fat," the ladies never once thought of discontinuing their lunches at the diner.
Another notable regular was the neighborhood’s policeman. He had started getting a cinnamon roll from the diner since the day Austin had reopened the place. The roll more closely resembled a small cake than an actual roll. It was soft and gooey and drenched in rich, creamy icing. No matter how busy the officer was he always made sure to finish his roll. Most days he would also make it back to the diner for his lunch as well.
Of course, the staggering amount of calories that came with his meal choices had quite an effect upon the man’s body. His once broad shoulders now looked downright narrow compared to his sixty-eight inch waist. His silhouette looked even bigger as a result of his bulletproof vest not being able to properly accommodate his large, sagging man-boobs. But like the bank tellers, no matter how much his weight increased, the officer never once even considered not eating at Austin’s Diner.
Austin’s wait staff was certainly not immune to the seemingly irresistible food they served. The employees were exposed to the diet-busting meals for eight- to twelve-hour shifts with two breaks and lunch rather than just a meal or two, and they got to eat as much as they wanted for free. When a new employee would start, all the full-time girls would make bets on what size uniform shorts the rookie would be wearing when they left.
A majority of the wait staff were usually students working during the summer or taking a semester off to earn money, so most were only around for three or four months. But with the huge meals and constant snacking, some would go up as many as four sizes before they quit.
The full-timers were the ones whose transformations were truly astonishing. Two in particular had been with the eatery for quite a while.
Angel had been a waitress at Austin’s for over two and a half years now. She was a young, hard-working girl who had wanted a break from student life after high school. When she had started at Austin’s, she had a petite little frame, with a curvy, yet firm, backside, which she attributed to her half-Mexican heritage.
However, her strong sweet tooth worked against her when she took her breaks, as she was never seen seated without a slice of one of the many varieties of pie in front of her. Of course, a slice at Austin’s diner amounted to a quarter of a pie so thick it looked like two pies stacked on top of each other. Most types of pie came with three huge scoops of ice cream on top.
With this type of repeated indulgence it was not long before Angel’s curvy little bottom became a large mass of quivering cellulite. After her hips and ass spread to monumental proportions, her torso began storing excess fat. Her once flat little tummy grew into a large pouch that was usually creased by the waistline of her shorts, giving her an upper and lower belly. Her breasts swelled from her former perky little A cups to floppy C’s. Her upper arms turned soft and flabby, looking very matronly.
In her time at Austin’s, she had gone from 127 to 251 pounds. Despite her rise to obesity, she was as friendly and good spirited as the day she was hired. She frequently flirted with customers and most often got flirted with right back. Maybe because, despite the two extra chins and cheeks that looked like they were stuffed with marshmallows, she had still kept her exotic suntanned skin soft and smooth looking. Her long silky black hair she pulled back into a cute ponytail when she worked.
A sharp contrast to Angel’s ethnic heritage and innocent youth was Bonnie. She was a tough-as-nails Texan, in her late thirties. Being a waitress had been all she had ever done. Bonnie had been Austin’s first hire when he bought the diner. As a result she seemed to have a connection with him that none of the other girls had. Most of the girls would go through Bonnie, as the unofficial head waitress, if they needed to ask Austin something. She would often meet with him back in the office with the door closed. She would claim it was to discuss scheduling, but rumors quickly spread that Bonnie and Austin were an item, a claim that neither of the two would directly deny.
When Bonnie started at the diner, she definitely turned heads. Standing a rather imposing 5’ 10” and possessing a pair of 42EE breasts, she would often get doubletakes from a distance by men ten years younger than her. However, her weathered skin with years of sun damage, and a noticeable beer gut from even more years of hard drinking, gave away her age when they got closer.
Five years of eating the majority of her meals at the diner had added a staggering amount of weight to the rugged country girl’s body. She had ballooned from a solid 183 pounds to a sumo-like 348 pounds. Her extra weight had been distributed pretty evenly over her figure. Her tan legs resembled thick tree trunks; pockets of cellulite along with spider webs of varicose veins surrounded her thighs and hung down over her knees. Her solid calves were as big around as her thighs used to be. Her constantly swollen feet were usually stuffed into a pair of slip-on shoes with thick soles that did their best to distribute her massive weight.
Her hips and buttocks were comprised of so many lumps and blobs of fat that they had lost all shape, part of which was due to Bonnie’s immense belly apron and love handles weighing down heavily on them. The rolls of blubber and gobs of lard-filled skin that made up her midsection all kind of lumped together under her supersized t-shirts. Her once proud boobs were now cumbersome, sagging udders that flopped around her torso like they had a mind of their own, despite an expensive, custom-fitted 64MM bra that only seemed to accomplish making her breasts sweat profusely and caused her abundant back fat to bunch up around the strap. Her constantly wobbling arms resembled wet bags of cement, and stuck almost straight out to her sides when she stood due to the deposits of blubber that had built up under her arms.
Bonnie’s face was completely unrecognizable from five years ago. She had added chin after chin until now it had melted into one big piece of flesh that hid her neck completely and came up around the sides of her face.
Bonnie’s immense girth had affected her mobility in certain ways. She was unable to bend over without bracing herself, and most doorways posed a problem for her wide mass to fit through. For the most part, however, she carried her weight remarkably well for someone who was forced to stand with her feet more than shoulder width apart, and who could not even see those feet, for that matter. She managed to continue to waitress, although she definitely felt the strain of carrying all that excess weight at the end of the day.
Through it all, Bonnie never regretted her decision to work at Austin’s and possessed quite a fierce loyalty to the man who employed her and who, arguably, was responsible for her current bloated form.
Now, however strange the situation sounds to the average person, to the people who worked and ate at Austin’s Diner this was just part of everyday life. This "everyday life" continued on for quite some time. It was right after the five-year anniversary of the diner that some really unusual things started happening.
Story continued in post 4 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 10-14-2007 at 11:45 AM.
|07-29-2007, 12:00 PM||#4|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Chapter Two - A TYPICAL MORNING INTERRUPTED
For a day that ended up so eventfully, it actually started out quite ordinary. Bonnie walked into the diner a little after 4 am on a humid Monday morning. The fact that she arrived that early in itself was pretty routine. She always tried to allow extra time for her to eat some breakfast and chat with Austin before her morning shift.
As usual, she was already in work clothes when she arrived. Her thick, blubbery legs were packed into a pair of industrial strength support pantyhose, which helped give them some semblance of shape. After a few hours, however, the tight fit usually caused her large pockets of flab and cellulite to bunch up in odd formations around her knees and the backs of her thighs. They did make the long hours of walking around the diner bearable for her, as it cut down considerably on chaffing.
Her khaki shorts were tight enough that they caused a deep ridge on her leg where they ended just above mid-thigh. The visible pantyline and the unvisible waistband, due to belly overhang, also signaled Bonnie was about ready to move up from the 32W size. Her 4X t-shirt was, in contrast, a bit loose on her, but that only caused her to look larger as it made it hard to tell where her colossal breasts stopped and her gigantic belly started.
Bonnie’s wavy, shoulder length, strawberry blond hair, with just a few streaks of gray at her temples, was pulled back into a ponytail. Her normally big bedroom eyes, a stunning shade of green, were squinted and groggy from a night of very little sleep. She wore no make-up to try and cover up her slightly haggard look. This was unusual, as Bonnie normally took great pride in her appearance.
Bonnie slowly ambled through a nearly deserted diner. One lone customer and Amber, the usual overnight waitress, were the only bodies in the place. Amber sat behind the counter with head down, intently reading a medical textbook. Amber was a smart, young, confident mother of two who loved working the late shift because it allowed her to study for her nursing classes during the slow periods. It also allowed her to snack almost constantly. As a result, after three months at the diner she was getting A’s in all her classes and had swelled from her formerly voluptuous size 12 to a more rubenesque size 18. Genetics had allowed her body to maintain its hourglass shape even as her weight climbed.
Her husband loved her large, soft body, so she ate non-stop without guilt while at work. Her only concern had been the small goldfish tattoo on her right hip that was pulled into odd shapes and dimpled as her skin stretched with her added layers of fat and cellulite. Her husband was the only one who ever saw it in its location. He thought it was cute and kissed it every time she undressed at home, so after a time Amber did not stress too much about her increasingly oblong body art.
As Bonnie approached the counter, Amber lifted her head up from her reading. She grabbed a large, greasy piece of fried chicken off a plate she had been snacking from. When she started it had been piled high with 20 pieces. Two hours later a mere 3 chicken parts remained next to a well-cleaned pile of bones.
“Pretty dead tonight,” Amber announced. “Just been him since midnight.”
She took a large bite of chicken and nodded toward the customer, a chubby guy sloppily eating a two-foot long chili dog.
“What’s Austin been doing?” Bonnie moved next to Amber behind the counter, her wide hips brushing the countertop on both sides as she did. She glanced back into the pass-through to the empty kitchen area.
Amber chuckled and shook her head. “I think he’s in his office now. He was working on some new fish fry batter, and then he was scrubbing the floor. I don’t get him. When does he go home?” Two more bites cleaned the meat off her chicken bone, which she tossed back on the plate. Her fingers, lips and chin glistened with grease.
Bonnie hesitated before explaining. She would not normally give out any information about the very private Austin until she was sure the person was going to be around for a while. Amber had pretty much become a fixture on the late shift so Bonnie decided to fill her in a little. “That office is his home. He’s a real nice guy once you get to know him. He’s just got some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder. He feels like a failure if he isn’t doing something to improve this place.” As she spoke, Bonnie helped herself to a chicken breast off Amber’s plate.
“But this place is great. People love the food. The place has won best local restaurant four years in a row. His desserts should be illegal they are so addicting. I swear, thanks to his cinnamon caramel apple pie they’ll probably have to roll me down the aisle by the time I graduate.” Amber pulled the crispy skin off a drumstick with her very plump, greasy lips. She tilted her head back to flip the entire piece into her mouth. her double chin jiggling as she did so.
“For him there is always something that could be better; he’s always trying to figure out new recipes. It’s actually kind of amazing how focused he is, but it makes him a nervous wreck sometimes. His anxiety is so bad he can’t sleep for more than ten minutes at a time, even when things are going well for him.”
“That’s so sad. He should get some help. They have doctors for that kind of thing,” Amber said through a mouth full of chicken.
Bonnie chuckled as she slowly waddled toward the double doors back to the kitchen. “You go ahead and try to tell him that.”
Amber shrugged and went back to her studies, and the remaining pieces of fried meat.
Austin’s office was not very impressive to look at. The very small, very narrow space seemed more like a hallway leading to nowhere than an actual room. Less then four feet wide and barely ten feet long, the room would have seemed small with nothing in it. However, since it was basically where Austin lived, there was quite a lot crammed into the space. A large dingy orange couch sat along the wall, almost right in front of the doorway in from the kitchen. Beyond that on the same side of the wall was the rusty old desk loaded with a computer, a small television, a fax machine and a printer. Scattered on and around the desk were various piles of paper in no particular order. Beyond the desk was a suitcase buried under a pile of jeans and t-shirts. On the far end of the room was a door that opened to a tiny, dimly lit bathroom.
The office was a sharp contrast to the pristine, well-organized kitchen. In a way, the difference between the room he worked in and the room he lived in was symbolic of his life. He had mastered one, but had barely begun to get a handle on the other.
Austin sat cross-legged on the couch, deep in meditation that he had told Bonnie he learned in India. He explained that an hour of it was more restful then eight hours of sleep. He was so earnest when he explained it that Bonnie was unsure if he really believed it or if it was just an attempt to disguise his severe insomnia. Bonnie stepped right into the office that most of the other girls had never seen the inside of. She sank herself down on the couch next to Austin. As she sat her lap disappeared underneath her rolls of belly fat. The spongy flesh of her backside spread out to take up two seats of the three seat couch, pressing up against Austin’s knee as it settled. Startled, Austin jumped up and perched himself on the arm of the davenport before realizing who had disturbed him. He flashed her a mildly annoyed look and Bonnie gave him one right back.
Over the years the two had become quite good at communicating through expressions and eye contact. In fact their relationship had developed into one not unlike an old married couple. This was in part due to the amount of time they spent working together, but also there was a growing sense of sexual tension (just ask any of the other waitresses). Despite the slowly building attraction, both had personal issues that impeded any romantic involvement.
Austin’s obsessive compulsiveness about the diner and his strong sense of professionalism would not allow him to act on his feelings. Along with the fact that while he was the best at what he did, all that learning, experience and obsessing came at the cost of some basic social skills, which made communicating his attraction difficult for him.
Bonnie’s poor history with men (she had two failed marriages that ended very badly) made her think she should stay just friendly with Austin for fear of compromising her job. She kept dating outside the diner, almost as if to try and push aside her feelings for her boss. The two also had something in common that had slowed any developing relationship: they were both very tight lipped about their past. Over time, Bonnie had eventually learned that Austin had traveled extensively to learn from cooks around the world, but she never heard any details. Austin was vaguely aware of Bonnie’s terrible choices in men, but he, too, never got any specifics.
In spite of their personal baggage, the last couple of weeks had seen Austin and Bonnie start to become more physical. Bonnie would frequently put her hand on Austin’s shoulder or the small of his back when she stopped by the grill to tell him something. He was even spotted by a couple other waitresses giving Bonnie a neck massage after a particularly long day.
This morning, however, Bonnie was in a very foul mood because of recent personal issues. She really wanted to tell Austin but instead ended up trying to pick a fight with him.
“I tell you this every time. You can’t just break a person out of meditation like that. It’s bad karma,” Austin said, unaware of Bonnie’s poor demeanor.
The old couch creaked loudly, both from Bonnie’s massive weight and Austin's odd seating position on the armrest.
“Get out of here and meditate - you don’t need to be here all the time anymore. The diner is running fine. Most people would even call it very successful.” Bonnie’s voice was gradually starting to rise as she lectured. “Go find a hobby or something else to obsess over. It’s not healthy for you to be here all the time.”
Austin held up his hands defensively. “Just a few more things to iron out. Then this place will be running smoothly and I can think about a second cook.” As he spoke Austin noticed large dark bags under Bonnie’s eyes that he had been seeing on her for the last week or so.
“You said that last year. And the year before that. And the year before that,” Bonnie replied.
More concerned now with his head waitress’s condition, Austin changed topics. “Why are you so grumpy this morning? What happened to you last night?”
Bonnie broke eye contact and started fidgeting. “I’m not grumpy,” she shot back. “I was on date and didn’t really get much sleep last night,” she lied. Her voice had lowered back to a normal volume. As she gave her explanation she flashed a nervous smile. “We’re going out again tonight.”
Austin was torn between asking her if there was something wrong and respecting her personal space. So he instead opted for a sarcastic comment. “Most other people are very cheerful when they’re dating someone.”
“You haven’t had a date since I’ve known you, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t eagerly accept any dating advice you have to offer,” she quipped.
“Wow. I can see you’re in no mood to talk.” Austin stood up off the couch and grabbed his apron of the desk chair. As he tied it around his trim waist he looked at his watch. “There’s still time before the morning rush, if you want some breakfast.”
Bonnie nodded yes and started rocking herself back and forth to build up enough momentum to pull her bulk off the couch. After two tries she managed to get to a standing position. The movement caused the bottom of her ill-fitting shorts to ride up revealing a good portion of her dimpled ass cheeks. Even packed into the support hose her bulbous backside bounced and jiggled with each step. Austin could not help himself as he stared at the constant movement of her ass as she waddled into the kitchen. He had caught himself admiring Bonnie’s bountiful figure more and more lately. He was not surprised that he found Bonnie attractive, he secretly had since the day he hired her.
It was confusing to him that he liked her shape more as she gained weight. All his life he had been so focused on becoming the best and making people happy through his cooking that he had completely neglected any romantic involvement at all. His personality would not let him think about relationships until he felt he had completed his single-minded goal which he hadn't yet completed to his satisfaction.
So focused on this goal was he, that he did not even realize the effect his masterful skill at preparing food had on people’s figures. He was certainly aware that Bonnie and many others who worked and ate at the restaurant were now much heavier than when he had came to town, but his one-track mind was unable to comprehend that his irresistible culinary ability was responsible.
He was also unable to comprehend why he was finding a woman attractive who did not conform to society's standards for beauty, because up until now he had never let himself think about what he found attractive. He was thinking about it more and more lately, although he always shook it off when he thought of the complications a more intimate relationship with an employee would cause. He did not want to get a reputation as the creepy guy who lusted after the women he hired. Especially since a lot of them were quite young.
Austin headed out to the grill and began making breakfast for Bonnie. The breakfast itself was a sign of how close the two were; it was a special dish he made only for her. She loved it so much she rarely ate anything different in the morning. She had never told him what to make, he just seemed to know. The dish consisted of a thick eight-inch Belgium waffle, layered with a pile of cheesy scrambled eggs, and strips and strips of smoked bacon, with hash brown potatoes dripping with grease heaped on top of that, a layer of hamburger patty-sized sausages, another Belgium waffle and loads of sticky, rich maple syrup to top it off. A few of the other waitresses had begun calling it "Bonnie’s Breakfast Sandwich."
Bonnie was sitting at a little break table in the back of the kitchen when Austin served her the massive plateful. Her immense ass cheeks dwarfed the wrought iron chair she was seated on. Austin went back to grill as she started digging in. He began preparing food orders that had started to come in, but he found himself constantly being distracted by Bonnie’s eating. Although he relished watching anybody enjoy his meals, he especially enjoyed watching Bonnie eat. It seemed to be the reason for his determination to become the best at preparing food. He loved to watch people get so caught up in a delicious meal that they lost their inhibitions and forgot about any trouble they might be having.
Bonnie was a great example of that. Her massive belly forced her to sit almost sideways at the table and twist her arms across her watermelon-size tits to reach her food. She ate with her hands, cramming huge bite after bite into her gaping mouth as streams of syrup and melted cheese ran down her plump fingers and collected in the folds of flesh at her wrist. As she continued, the syrup soon overflowed the deep crevices at the base of her hands and dribbled down her flabby forearm, getting lost in the hanging sheets of upper arm flesh that surrounded her elbow. Her already full cheeks puffed out like balloons as she stuffed in more food than she could chew. Grease trickled out the corners of her mouth. The amount of food she was eating and the quickness with which she was eating it had Austin convinced he could actually see her gut swell outward even further across her lap as she gorged.
His admiration of his crush devouring her custom meal was cut short when he heard the bell on the front entrance to the dining room chime. This was not unusual at all. The bell rang hundreds of times a day as people entered and exited the diner. It was almost as if by instinct that Austin gave this ring particular notice. He craned his head toward the pass-through to see who had come through the doors. As soon as he saw who it was, his jaw dropped and the spatula he was holding dropped with a clank down onto the grill.
“Greta Diedenbach!” he gasped.
Story continued in post seven of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 09-03-2007 at 07:20 PM.
|08-09-2007, 12:17 PM||#7|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Chapter Three - THE DIEDENBACH CHALLENGE
Greta Diedenbach was a stunning young woman. Barely twenty years old, her girlish looks could have passed for much younger. Her 5’ 2” height added to her youthful look. She had a cute bob haircut with naturally platinum blonde hair. She had smoky blue eyes with long, thick eyelashes that required no make-up. Her full rosy lips also needed no product to help bring out their beauty. Her healthy, glowing complexion completed a look that quite often turned heads.
She was wearing a light blue peasant top that accentuated her very round frame. The shirt cinched in underneath her bosom, making her cantaloupe-sized breasts stand out as they seemed to float in front of her, thanks to a custom fitted bra. They stuck out above her sizable stomach that engulfed young Greta on all sides. There were no bulges or rolls, just a very large, smooth belly. Her form-fitting Capri pants revealed full, but very shapely, thighs that tapered down to an astonishingly petite, yet curvy, set of calves. Her expertly pedicured feet were tucked into a pair of flip flops that carried her 230 pounds very gracefully.
As Greta entered the diner she had a stern look of determination across her face. Her eyes darted around the dinning room, looking for something or someone very specific. Not immediately seeing what she wanted, she stormed right over to the counter. Climbing up onto a stool, her wide rear end engulfed the entire cushion. Her expansive middle pressed firmly against the counter as she leaned forward to flag down a waitress.
Before she was able to get anyone’s attention, Austin himself emerged from the kitchen. Her glare immediately locked onto the cook. He returned her glare, but his eyes wore more of an astonished expression. A few of the other customers who were waiting for breakfast looked over curiously, as it was very rare to see Austin out in the dining area. He made his way toward the young blonde, his eyes never breaking from the stare-down the two were engaged in.
“What are you doing here?” Austin asked once he stood right across the counter from the visitor.
“You came to my village. Imposed yourself on my family. Lied to us about who you are. And stole family secrets that have been only passed from Diedenbach to Diedenbach for hundreds of years so you can go back to America and use them for shallow monetary gain,” Greta explained in a hushed tone with a thick German accent. “And you have the nerve to ask me what I’m doing here?” Her words were so angry it almost sounded as if she was forcing them out.
“What happened was between your father and me. I didn’t mean to involve you,” Austin said in a similarly hushed, but less angry tone. Behind him a curious Bonnie, the remaining piece of her breakfast in one sticky, pudgy hand, peered through the double doors.
“I trusted you like family. I treated you like a brother. I toldl you things I did not share with my own father. Then you leave after you get what you want, without so much as a goodbye. So you defiantly involved me. Now I must bring honor back to my family and show the people what a miserable fake you are.” Greta pointed a fat finger directly at Austin. “I challenge you.” A wicked smile broke across her face as she watched Austin’s eye widen. “I can see you remember the challenge.”
Austin took a minute to collect himself and then leaned back in toward the aggressive beauty. “I left without saying goodbye because your father said he was going to kill me after he found out I wasn’t a Diedenbach. So you’ll excuse me if I didn’t stop to shake hands and give hugs on my way out of town. I can understand your resentment towards me right now, but this is not the way to handle it. We are not in your little town of seventy-five people. Things work differently here.”
Greta’s smile remained. “I know how things work. I also know you. Deep down you have respect for what you learned from my father. And even if I am wrong about that, I know your ego won’t let you decline my challenge. You worked hard in hopes your talents would someday equal my father’s. Now you get your chance to find out.” Greta sat back on the undersized stool and folded her thick flabby arms across her huge chest as best she could. She could see she had succeeded in triggering something in her intended target.
“Okay,” Austin said, sounding a little unsure of himself. “But I warned you. I keep this diner stocked with more food then all the bakeries and restaurants within a hundred mile radius of your little town.”
“The amount of food doesn’t matter. It’s how you prepare it. I know your recipes could never satisfy someone who has experienced meals from the Diedenbach Café,” Greta sneered.
Austin sighed. He looked around at the growing number of people who were starting to take notice of the attractive no-nonsense lady who had called him out in his own diner. With nothing left to say he backed through the double doors. He kept eye contact with the confident Greta until Bonnie met him with a quizzical expression. He tried to ignore her and moved towards the grill.
“Anything you would like to share with me?” Bonnie asked accusingly.
“No,” he said quickly. “It’s getting busy out there. You better go help out the girls.” He grabbed a few order slips off the wheel in the pass-through, while at the same time he cleared space on the grill for Greta’s meal.
“Nothing you would like to explain to me about the perky blonde, who could possibly be half your age, who seems very angry with you?” Bonnie moved right into Austin's personal space as she spoke, something she knew annoyed him greatly.
Austin paused for a moment, considering what conclusions his friend may draw on her own if he did not say anything. He decided the truth was probably better then the alternative and started into the Diedenbach story.
“There is this baker in this tiny little German town, who is legendary. He knows secrets and special techniques about bread and pastry preparation that no one in America has ever even come close to. No one ever really knew where to find him and he was a very reclusive, strict traditionalist. He would only take on apprentices that were family. Now it just so happens through the course of my travels I was not only able to find this enigma, but I also had an opportunity to present myself as a relative, albeit a distant one.”
“So you lied.” Bonnie started to fill in the blanks.
“I’m not saying what I did was right, but I was a lot younger and more reckless back then. And in my defense, I think Diedenbach saw through me right away. I think for whatever reason he saw something in me and let himself believe my story, for a while. I stayed with him and his daughter for quite sometime. Not only learning all he had to teach, but also becoming quite close with the Diedenbachs. He had no son so I kind of filled a void he had, and Greta and I became like brother and sister. Whenever I wasn’t in the kitchen with her dad, I hung out with her. She tried to teach me German. I told her what it was like in America. I got so close with them that I probably stayed longer then I should have.
"Over time, more and more inconsistencies in my story became apparent. Once he finally found me out, he was very upset. Dangerously so. I had to leave in quite a hurry and never thought I’d see them again.”
“I see.” Bonnie looked down at the vast amounts of food Austin was preparing for the German visitor. “So she tracked you down so you could make her breakfast?”
“I wasn’t done with the story yet,” Austin scolded, as Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Aside from being traditional, Mr. Diedenbach was also very territorial. He got offended when another baker or even chefs would try to open up in or around his town, so he developed the Diedenbach challenge. He would send little Greta, who was never very little, but anyway, he would send her over as soon as their bakery or café opened up and she would tell them in order to continue doing business in the area they had to satisfy her appetite. Now people would see she was a young girl and humor her. ‘Sure little girl, here you go, have a croissant.’
"But little did they know this little lady had been indulging in obscene amounts of her father’s legendary baking since she could walk, so by a very early age she was able to put away unbelievable portions of food. So the new bakers would start to see her as a challenge as she sat in their establishment and ate roll after roll, telling them all the while their baking was nothing compared to her father's. Soon enough, Greta would clean them completely out of supplies and run them out of business. Dozens and dozens of bakers and chefs tried to take on the challenge while I was there. No one but her father could ever fill Greta up.”
Bonnie watched as Austin piled a serving platter full of pancakes so high that she lost count of how many were there. Two ice cream scoop size dollops of soft, creamy butter were plopped down on top of the stack. Another large plate got filled with more then a pound of sizzling bacon and an equal amount of juicy sausage links. “Don’t tell me….?” she started.
“I can’t have her just waltzing in hear like she owns the place, throwing down challenges in front of my regular customers.” Austin tried to carry a plate in each hand, but found that they were much too heavy to carry out that way.
“Oh, man. I can’t believe you.” Bonnie shook her head. “As ridiculous as that story you just told me was, coming from you it just might be true. But I can’t believe you won’t put aside your enormous ego to just go talk to that young girl out there and see what you could do to make up for what you did to her and her father.”
“You don’t understand. This is a huge chance to prove myself - to overcome the Diedenbach challenge. That would be something no one else has been able to do.” Austin headed toward the dinning room with the very heavy plate full of buttery pancakes.
Bonnie cut him off before he got there, sternly looking him in the eyes. “Promise me one thing.”
“What?” Austin asked reluctantly.
“You’ll have the maturity to stop this if it gets out of hand.”
Austin looked past Bonnie out at Greta who sat waiting with her fist clenched. He looked back at Bonnie, who he knew would not let him continue until he promised. ”I promise,” he swore sincerely. Bonnie stepped aside and the challenge started.
Greta tore through the mountain of pancakes faster then most people could finish a small bowl of cereal. She alternated enormous bites of Austin’s special recipe buttermilk pancakes with big chunks of sausage and bacon, dipping everything in the homemade sweet maple syrup before she brought it her mouth. She chased the family-sized helping with a tall glass of chocolate milk and then looked around defiantly for the next plate before Austin had a chance to finish preparing it.
A buzz was beginning to go around the diner as the morning rush started. More and more people were watching Greta. People who had been there early filled in the latecomers as to what was happening. Bets started being placed, and patrons were calling friends on their cell phone telling them to come over and see what was going on.
Austin rushed from the kitchen with his next offering - a twelve-egg omelet stuffed with more meat, cheese and tomato then the folded egg mixture could hold. The omelet was set on a pile of golden hash browns that raised the eggs four inches off the plate. The whole thing was covered in thick, gooey melted cheese. Before Greta started in on her second colossal breakfast meal she leaned in across the counter. Austin noticed her fuller belly did not allow her to lean quite as far as she had before.
“I just wanted to say how good those pancakes were. I must admit I’m quite surprised,” she whispered.
Austin nodded, his glare softening a tad. “Your dad taught me well. He’s quite gifted. Those pancakes won me a local award for best in town last year.” The two stared back at each other in silence for a few seconds almost as if remembering the good times they had together.
Greta shook it off first. “You better go get started on the next plate.” She looked down at the omelet. “This won’t take me more than a few minutes.”
True to her word, she had the plate cleaned of its entire calorie-laden contents in less than fifteen minutes. This time Austin was ready with a plate covered with a three-inch-thick layer of extra greasy corned beef hash under eight sunny-side-up eggs. A nine-inch by nine-inch serving of cinnamon-sugar-coated coffee cake accompanied the dish.
Although Greta was putting up an undaunted front, Austin was starting to see signs of wear. Her complexion had gone from a rosy glow to a much paler tone. Her mouth stayed slightly open as she was taking shorter breaths to account for the amount of food she had consumed pushing up against her lungs. Her formerly loose peasant top was now definitely pulled tighter across her swelling paunch. She was shifting uncomfortably on the stool that had been much too small for her size to begin with.
Although Austin was very excited that he might actually prove that he had surpassed his former mentor’s talents, his competitive streak was slowly being overcome by his sympathy for someone who had once been like the younger sister he never had. It made him quite uncomfortable to see her in any discomfort.
“You can end it anytime,” he reassured.
“I will not dishonor my father by quitting.” Her labored breathing made her English sound worse.
“Your father’s not here. Go home and tell him whatever you want,” Austin shrugged.
Greta’s eyes narrowed and she picked up her well-used fork from the counter. “I will not lie to my father like you. I will honor him by exposing your inferior skills.” She looked down wearily at the gut-busting portion placed in front of her and set down the fork. Austin grinned, thinking she might be having second thoughts. “I'll take two minutes to adjust myself. Then perhaps I'll move to a table?”
“Sure. If you feel you can continue.” Austin leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms as his overstuffed opponent contemplated how to get up off the stool. She swiveled around and slowly slid her doughy cheeks forward. She stretched her neck fruitlessly to see her feet as they lowered to the ground, but the sheer size of her belly prevented her from seeing them.
Beneath Greta’s now snug top, it was clear that her stomach had distended out immensely. Once off the stool she was forced to lean backward, almost at a forty-five degree angle to account for her unbalanced load. She gave an audible whimper as the amount of extra weight in her well-packed tummy was now very evident to her. She moved across the diner; her slow, plodding waddle as she shuffled her feet along toward the restroom quite a contrast to the graceful, determined movements when she had entered not long ago.
Her front end did not so much jiggle with her motion, as it bobbed up and down heavily. An uncomfortable expression flashed across her face each time gravity jerked her taunt stomach downward. Other customers around her could hear the gurgling and sloshing of the copious amounts of undigested food pressing against her stomach lining. Austin moved her next serving over to an open table near the center of the diner. People around the now quite bustling diner continued to whisper and point, amazed by the showdown going on before them.
Greta took only a couple of minutes in the restroom. She emerged looking no more comfortable then she did when she went in. The effort it took her to get across the diner started her sweating profusely. She had made some obvious adjustments in the restroom. Her bra had been removed; unsupported, her once round, gravity-defying knockers were now teardrop shaped, resting heavily on the top of her belly. Her jerky movements caused them to flop around the ledge provided by her midsection like fish out of water. She had also relocated the elastic waistband of her pants underneath her ballooning gut.
As she reached the table, she plopped down clumsily into the chair that was only slightly more comfortable than the stool. She struggled to reach her short arms past her tits and belly to the table, but once she did she grabbed her fork and continued on her quest to show up Austin.
The crowd of people who had gathered around to watch had now begun to pick sides. Some were cheering Greta on to keep eating, others were calling for Austin to bring out his giant triple-cheese bacon burger to finish her off.
Austin still stood next to the table, watching Greta stuff her face, although it was certainly not with his usual enjoyment. It was slowly starting to dawn on him that accepting this lady's naïve challenge might not have been the best way to handle the situation. In order to make things right, he knew he was going to have to do some things he had never done before; confess that he was wrong and admit defeat, if only to satisfy poor Greta’s ego.
Meanwhile Greta continued, much more slowly than when she had started out, but she continued regardless. As she ate, her butt was gradually moving forward in the chair and her head was tilting upward. She was filling herself so full she was losing the ability to bend at the waist. This made getting food up to her mouth a very messy process. She was blindly shoveling forkfuls up from the table over her belly and boobs, where a good portion of the fork load would fall off. The open neck of her shirt that revealed her abundant cleavage was now littered with pieces of egg, chunks of meat and streaks of grease. What food made it up to her bloated cheeks and puffy lips were agonizingly chewed by her sore jaw muscles. She paused halfway through the plate to pull her shirt, which had become almost like a second skin, up over her distended belly.
“I have to. It’s squeezing my insides,” she squeaked. Her now-freed belly looked very surreal. The pale skin was stretched so tight it had a shiny, slick look to it. Squiggly blue veins were not only visible, but visibly throbbing as blood pumped through them. Her belly button had all but disappeared as the skin around it had stretched to its limit.
Both she and Austin knew it was over. Austin had accomplished in three dishes what hundreds of other cooks and bakers could not match with kitchens full of food. Before he could realize victory, Greta had to admit defeat. He could see in her eyes that this was not going to happen, although they had started welling up with tears as she began experiencing some pain. While her body was telling her to stop, her dedication to her father would not let her quit. Austin sensed this and pushed the remaining plateful out of her reach.
“That’s it. It’s over,” he said matter of factly.
Greta tried to protest, but she was forced to take such short, shallow breaths she could barely whisper.
“You win. I give up.” Austin threw his hands up in frustration. “I clearly don’t have the same natural ability your father does.” A few cheers went up around the diner and some money started changing hands as the onlookers realized the show was over. Greta started to smile triumphantly, but then groaned. She motioned with her hand for Austin to come closer. It was all the movement she could manage.
“I really don’t feel so well.” She paused to take a breath before each word. Austin nodded and ran back into the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with tall glass of opaque green liquid.
“It might be tough to get this down, but once you do you’ll start to feel better almost right away.” He helped Greta bring the glass to her mouth. “It’s just a combination of herbs and spices, but, boy, does it help with digestion. I picked it up from a guy I worked with in Canada.”
As promised, soon after she finished the drink Greta started feeling better. After a couple of minutes she was able to speak again normally, and ten minutes later she was starting to feel like she might be able to try and get up. Austin helped her pull her still very tight shirt down over her unbelievably swollen belly.
“You know,” she said as she was about to waddle out of the restaurant. “Dad will be happy you could not meet the challenge, but I also think he would be very proud of what you’ve done here.”
“Thank you. A lot of what I’ve been able to accomplish is because of what I learned working for him.” Austin leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You have a safe trip back. And be careful. There are a lot of things here in Houston that are different from back home,” he warned.
“I know how to handle myself. Gweschler Village is much different than when you left. Almost 200 people now. We may get a Starbucks soon.” She paused for a second and then grinned. “If they can meet the challenge.”
After Greta left, the day continued on pretty normally through the lunch rush and into supper. As usual, Bonnie stayed late to help with the busy dinnertime surge. As the dinner rush tapered off, Bonnie poked her head into the office and saw Austin slumped on the sofa, staring despondently at the wall.
“You okay?” she asked.
Austin shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine. You go get out of here. Go get some rest.”
“I was kind of hoping for some supper before I left.”
“Oh, sure. Of course.” Austin got up. At the doorway Bonnie’s wide body blocked his path. She could see he was not himself.
“Seriously. What’s wrong? You depressed because you had call off the challenge before that girl burst all over the diner?” she asked.
“No, no. I was just thinking. Greta took the time to find me and traveled all this way to defend the honor of her dad. It kind of made me wonder; even if I could have won the challenge today and proved myself, he still would have a devoted family member who goes to great lengths for him. And I don’t have any family, and I live in the back office of my diner all alone and can’t relax myself enough to sleep through the night. Maybe there was no way I could have really won today.”
“Well, when you put it like that. . .” Bonnie smirked.
“Thanks, you’re a lot of help.”
Austin tried to push past her, but she grabbed him by the waist of his jeans and pulled him into her bosom. Her soft breasts engulfed him as she leaned forward, sandwiching him between her and the wall. At her height she was almost eye to eye with him as she whispered, “You do have me. Isn’t that enough for you?”
For a few seconds Austin stood there silent, looking into Bonnie’s eyes. He was unsure if she was playfully flirting, as both of them often did, or not. He slowly moved his face as close to hers as he could get without their noses touching before saying, “I have you until you go on your date tonight with this guy you’ve been so secretive about for the last couple of weeks.” He gave her a wink and then slid past her into the kitchen to start her supper.
“Yeah. My date,” Bonnie muttered under her breath, thinking ahead to what was really in store for her. “I can’t wait.”
Story continued in post 8 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 09-03-2007 at 07:20 PM.
|08-22-2007, 05:44 PM||#8|
Join Date: Feb 2007
The Next Chapter
Chapter Four - A BIG FAN
Few things could pull Austin away from chatting with Bonnie as she devoured her dinner, which tonight was a baguette split in half and layered with five chicken fried steaks and bacon; served in a deep plate, the sandwich was drowning in thick gravy. A second plate held a mountain of waffle fries to help Bonnie mop up any remaining gravy.
Tonight, however, there were a lot of things that needed to be done, including ordering tomorrow’s produce, which was already late for tomorrow morning’s delivery. A pile of seemingly never-ending paperwork also waited on his desk. Austin also needed to make a call to Angel to make sure she could still come in tonight and help him out.
He made one last unsuccessful attempt to pry some information from Bonnie about her "date" before getting on with the tedious parts of running his diner.
Half an hour later, head down over a pile of papers at his desk, Austin was quite shocked to hear a voice from out in the doorway.
It was not so much the voice that startled him, as it was the fact that it was clearly a man’s tone.
“Hello?” the voice said again. This time the head of a young man peered around the partially opened office door. When the man saw Austin his eyes got wide with astonishment. “There you are.”
Austin spun around in his desk chair. “A waitress will be right with you, sir, if you’d please head back to your seat.”
“Oh, no, I wanted to see you. I didn’t want to cause any trouble but-“
Austin cut him off. “By being back here you’re causing trouble.” He straightened his full 6’ 2” frame out of the chair.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long, Actually the entire group has, and when we heard we just missed some promotional thing you did today where you were out in the dining room, I was so disappointed to have missed it that I snuck back here.” The stranger fidgeted nervously as he spoke. “You see I’ve been dying to ask a favor of you for a long time.” The man spoke quickly as he meekly stepped into the room. “We all just worship you; my fiancé and I moved here from Dallas because of the diner. Your cooking is big part of the reason we are such a happy couple.”
After hearing "worship" Austin’s angry glare softened. “I don’t see anyone else. Who’s ‘we’?” he cautiously asked.
“It’s a group my wife and I started. Some of them are out there eating. Only a few of us met tonight. Thanks to you, though, membership has seen quite a boom, both in membership and in weight.”
Austin, convinced the man was not dangerous now, was thinking of a way to politely usher him back out to his table.
“We’re a group of FAs.” The man paused, waiting for Austin’s reaction.
“Excuse me?” Austin was honestly confused.
“Fat Admirers. Our group appreciates those who consume in abundance and wear the results of their gluttony with pride.” The man was a very average looking twenty-something, dressed casually in jeans and a baseball jersey. The only thing that stood out about him as a regular customer was his slender build. “Oh, my. I thought for sure a man with your obvious talents would be one himself. I’m so embarrassed.”
Austin thought of his recent confusion over his growing attraction to his expanding head waitress and suddenly became very interested. “No need to be embarrassed.” He gestured toward the well worn couch. “Please. Have a seat. You’ll have to excuse the mess.”
As the intruder took a seat, Austin took a quick look out in the kitchen to see if any orders had trickled in. Seeing none, he glanced over at Bonnie, who now had her gravy-covered hand wrapped around a large spoon. A punch-bowl size dish, lined with chocolate cookies and filled with six grapefruit-size scoops of ice cream covered in hot fudge and whipped cream sat in front of her.
“Explain some more about your group to me,” he said as he watched Bonnie shovel spoonful after spoonful of dessert into her salivating mouth, like she had not eaten in a week.
“Well, I’m so in awe of just meeting you that I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Mario Belzane,” the man began. “I organized my group because after moving here I started meeting a lot of people who had ‘similar interests,’ if you know what I’m saying. The effects of your meals on people who eat here regularly seem to draw a lot of us to this area.”
“You enjoy seeing people gain weight?” Austin was anxious to get to the point.
“Very much so. It’s something that has intrigued me for a long time."
Austin asked, “So you knew you had this interest all along?”
“For me, I knew since before I was even interested in dating. When I was barely fourteen, a friend of my mother's went through a messy divorce and dealt with it by binging on anything she could get her hands on. She blew up like a blimp. I remember being amazed watching as her clothes grew tighter and tighter every time she would visit. I loved watching her ass spill off the side of our dining room chair as she sat down.
"As time went on, my intrigue and amazement turned into attraction. By the time I started dating I was drawn to fuller women who loved to indulge themselves at every opportunity. Women who made no attempt to hide their love of food.”
Austin stayed in the doorway listening to Mario, but watching Bonnie. He found himself becoming slightly aroused as he watched her eat. Twisting her bulbous torso to better reach the ice cream had caused her t-shirt to become untucked in the back, revealing her oozing, canned ham size love handles. Austin found himself almost hypnotized as the slightly tanned, freckled overhanging fat bobbed up and down as Bonnie quickly made the sundae disappear past her full lips.
As Mario finished his story, Austin shook himself out of the trance. “I’m sorry. So you say there’s enough people that think like you to start a group?”
“Yes. We started out with 25 members and now thanks, like I said, to you, we have over 200 members,” Mario grinned.
“Really.” Austin was almost completely lost in his own revelation and Bonnie’s gorging when Mario reminded Austin that he had a favor to ask. For some reason the request was preceded by a long story.
“You see, I met Minka, my fiancée, back in Dallas. She was perfect. A friendly, outgoing personality even though genetics and a love of food and beer had her weighing close to 250 pounds when we started dating. As we went out I made sure to encourage her natural tendency to overindulge, and by the time I proposed she was 280 pounds. She was concerned she would get too fat for me. I assured her that wasn’t possible and that I hoped she would be 350 by the time we walked down the aisle. It became our goal, but unfortunately it was not a goal we couldn’t attain on our own.”
As Mario went on, Bonnie finished up in the kitchen and curiously ambled toward the office when she realized Austin had a visitor. He waved her off, giving her a look that told her it was nothing important and then a flirtatious wink. She smiled and mouthed the words "See you tomorrow" before squeezing her full belly through the back entrance sideways because her wide hips and arms pitched out at a angle from her torso prevented her from taking the exit head on.
With his visual stimulation gone Austin began to wonder why he was allowing this stranger to give him his life story when there was work to be done. His appreciation for the fact that Mario may have opened his eyes to something that deep down he had probably known for a while kept him from cutting the man short.
“We were trying too hard, I think. It was all we thought about, trying to fatten Minka up to 350. She weighed herself everyday and I brought home more food then an army of starving teenagers could eat. After she passed 300 pounds, however, she hit the wall. No matter how much she ate, she never got any heavier then 308. She felt like she was failing me and I got frustrated seeing her depressed. We gave up our goal and even put off planning our wedding.
"Then one weekend, to try and cheer up, we came out here to visit friends and they brought us to your place for breakfast. Minka liked it so much that we came back for every meal that weekend, and a few snacks after clubbing. As we were leaving our friends’ house to go back home, Minka bent over to pick up her suitcase, and her pants split right down the seam. A check on the scale revealed she had ballooned up to 318 after the long weekend. We started looking for a place in Houston immediately. Now, almost two years later…..” Mario paused, stood up and started toward the kitchen. “You know what, she’s right out here. Why don’t I just show you in person my beautiful, happy bride to be, who you helped make a reality.”
After investing his time into the story, Austin felt compelled to follow Mario out to the pass-through, where he immediately spotted Minka, a glowing, raven-haired Asian cutie. In her seated position she looked like she was almost all belly. She was forced to sit a good three feet from the table because of her expansive waistline. It did not hinder her eating, as a shelf of blubber jutted out from under her, smallish for her size boobs, and created a nice place to set her plate. Her arms looked wider in circumference then they were in length and stuck out from her body almost at a ninety degree angle due to the large pockets of fat around them. Her face would have been perfectly round if not for the fact that her double chin was so thick that it bunched up into rolls around where the base of her neck should have been and the fat from her shoulders seemed to be expanding upward, fighting for space with all those chins. A short haircut revealed ridges of lard around the back of her neck and shoulders.
Her massive belly cascaded around what would have been her lap on all sides. In fact only her lower calves, layered with fat so thick it rolled down over her ankles, and her bloated oval-shaped feet were visible. Those feet dangled a good six inches above the ground, and looked bluish-gray in color, most likely from the weight of her belly limiting blood flow in her seated position. Her navy blue house dress was pulled tight across every fold and crease of her flesh, a tell-tale sign of recent weight gain.
“393 pounds on my 4’ 10” Minka, thanks to regular meals at your diner. Your meals are so good I don’t think she could stop eating here even if she tried. She gets mad if I don’t bring her here regularly,” Mario said proudly.
“And you are both happy about that?” Austin was still taking in Minka’s immense shape.
“I couldn’t be any happier. And Minka. Well you can ask her yourself. She’d be very grateful if you’d come out to meet her.”
Austin looked around the dining room. The dinner time crowd had all but cleared out. A few stragglers remained. “Sure.”
As Austin ventured out from the kitchen for the second time that day, Mario pointed out the other group members seated at Minka’s table. He went too fast for Austin to pick up the names, but he got the gist of their stories. A very athletic-looking redhead had been a closet FFA who had been starting to have problems in her five-year marriage to her college sweetheart. The two had been so career driven they had been starting to drift apart and the husband was close to a nervous breakdown, because of job stress.
A vacation to try and save their marriage found them stopping in for a fateful lunch at Austin’s, where the husband was instantly hooked on the delicious comfort food after limiting himself to bland health food up until that point. They relocated and the wife was able to find work very quickly, while the man was able to become a house husband, which allowed more visits to the diner.
The result of a year of this domesticated lifestyle was seated next to the trim redhead. Over two hundred and fifty pounds of flabby, soft flesh, packed into a very snug-fitting golf shirt. A lot of the man’s weight showed up in his face. His cheeks had become so full they were pulling down into jowls, lying against his massive double chin that hid any sign of a neck.
Across his chest where his pectoral muscles should have been were sacks of fat the size of overripe peaches, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight enough that his nipples were visible. His mammoth gut jutted both up and out in front of him as he was forced to lean back in the chair to allow for its size. A small strip of his belly was visible beneath the poorly fitted shirt. The pink, stretch-mark covered skin looked almost like that of a pregnant woman, save for a patch of hair around his belly button.
As Mario and Austin approached, the wife reached over and slowly, almost sensually, began massaging her mate’s distended gut. “Look, honey. It's Austin himself.” She looked up at the cook, grinning proudly as her husband seemed to be in a very content, semi-conscious state from overeating. “You’ll excuse my husband if he doesn’t get up. He’s due any day now.”
Mario chuckled. “You’ll have to come up with a new line soon, my dear. He’s starting to look well past due if you ask me.”
The lady’s hand slid up underneath a saggy man-boob. “Well, it’s almost a shame he’s not expecting. With a rack like this, the baby would eat very well.” She jostled her prone husband’s flabby man-mammaries for emphasis.
Not knowing what to say, Austin looked at the small glass of water in front of the redhead. “Nothing for you today?”
“I’m a strict vegan,” she explained, still batting her husband’s soft, bloated pectorals around his chest. “But don’t worry, he ate enough for both of us.”
Across the table was another couple, too intent in cleaning their plates to do more then nod acknowledgment to Mario and Austin. They were both definitely chubby, but tiny in comparison to the rest of the table. Mario’s introduction of them was interrupted as Minka realized who Austin was. She went into a very excited frenzy. Unable to get up without assistance, she began bouncing up and down in her chair. The resulting jiggling and gyrations of her entire body had Austin wondering if the chair and her dress would be able to withstand the assault.
As he went over to her and gave her an awkward hug (Austin was not much of a hugger, but he made the effort if only to calm her down), she began chirping on and on about how she loved everything on the menu and how she hated going a day without at least one meal at the diner. Finally after she had calmed a bit, she looked at Mario.
“Did you ask him yet?”
“Now that he’s out here, you can ask him.”
Minka looked up pleadingly at the cook and said, “Mario and I are finally planning our wedding and it would mean a lot to both of us if you would prepare the dinner at our reception.”
“It would mean so much to us both,” Mario added, now standing behind his wife.
Austin did not really have to think about whether he could do it. He had prepared food for weddings before as a sous chef when he worked at a hotel. He really did not have to think about whether he wanted to do it either. Mario opening his eyes to the fact that there were a lot of people out there who not only did not mind gaining weight but found it attractive, along with Minka’s deep appreciation of his cooking made his answer easy.
“You guys let me know when you get a date picked and I’m sure I’ll be able to work something out.”
After a few more minutes of excited squealing and bouncing by Minka, the group gathered up and headed out. Although a few orders began to accumulate at the pass through window, Austin stayed out in the dining room and watched Minka slowly shuffle to the door. Her jerky movements caused her tight dress to ride up so that by the time she exited the diner not only were most of her incredibly short, blubber-coated legs visible, but also a good portion of her belly apron that hung down past her knees was revealed. She either did not notice or did not care as she took the time and effort to turn and wave to the man that played a big part in her growing as large as she was.
“For someone who didn’t even know what FA meant you sure seem very appreciative of my fiancée’s figure,” Mario said after Minka was safely out of earshot.
Austin shrugged. “She’s quite a catch.”
“You know, I can’t wait until she reaches the new goal of 450 pounds,” Mario shared. Austin just smiled politely. The thought of the cute, bubbly Minka with more then 50 pounds added to her spherical form had him looking forward to hearing from the young couple.
As Austin’s biggest fans left, Angel walked in right by them. She looked confused when she saw her boss out in the dining area.
Having been a waitress at the diner for quite a while (second only to Bonnie in tenure) Angel had become somewhat comfortable in talking with the reclusive and seemingly odd cook, at least when Bonnie was gone and she had to. She had not made the same effort to get to know him as Bonnie did, but over time the two had developed something of a father-daughter relationship, due mostly to Angel’s youth and her headstrong nature.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked. “Are we getting inspected or something?” Angel was wearing a tank top that was almost entirely drenched in sweat. While the shear volume of food she ate while working caused her weight to steadily increase, that did not keep her from staying active. She was involved in just about every group sport that was played in the community, although the fake eyelashes and bright lipstick she wore made it obvious she participated mostly to meet boys.
She had just come from her weekly basketball game. The damp white fabric was nearly see through, revealing a sports bra fitted snugly enough that bunches of tit flesh had escaped out the sides of the garment by her underarms.
It was what she wore on her lower half that was really eye catching, a bright pink pair of biker shorts that not only brought out her honey-colored complexion, but made her 58” hips and ass look even larger. She had purposely found a pair that was tight enough to smooth out a good majority of the cellulite dimples but still allowed her disproportionately large backside to jiggle hypnotically when she ran or walked, or even sometimes when she was standing still.
“Or did you learn to make balloon animals and now you play the clown for kids’ birthday parties that come in?” she smirked.
Austin gave her a somewhat disapproving look as she stopped in front of him, her thighs rippling as she did. He had always told her she should try to leave a little more to the imagination, especially when she came into the diner, but since he had called her in on short notice he kept his opinion of her shorts to himself.
“It’s ironic that someone who wears as much make-up as you to play basketball thinks I would make a good clown. Did you bring work clothes?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.” She held up a backpack. “This has to be the last night for this. Tomorrow I got a softball tournament and won’t be able to come in.”
“I know. I appreciate you doing this. If everything goes as planned this should be last night I’ll need you to help me out,” Austin assured.
Last edited by Risible; 09-11-2007 at 07:44 AM.
|08-25-2007, 02:06 PM||#10|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Chapter Five - THE BONE YARD
Roddy Milsworth owned and operated a successful strip club on Houston’s north side called The Bone Yard for as long as anybody could remember. He had developed a reputation for employing the most beautiful, well-endowed women around. He managed to do so with his fast talk and the legally questionable contracts he forced his dancers to sign. He also had an eye for spotting naïve, trusting young ladies. His business style did not make him many friends, but it made him successful enough that he always seemed to have wads of cash on hand, expensive cars and a plethora of girlfriends following him wherever he went.
Bonnie knew about Roddy all too well. A number of years ago she too had fallen victim to his false charm and flashy personality. She had fallen for it so hard, that for a short period of time the two were married.
Ten years ago a very buxom, statuesque Bonnie had caught Roddy’s eye while she waited tables at a truck stop. After a few compliments and the promise of a dinner at one the finer restaurants in town, Bonnie was enticed into the passenger seat of Roddy’s ’69 corvette, being felt up by the club owner at every stoplight.
The younger, more trusting, Bonnie soon found herself inside a trendy eatery, feasting on expensive food and being served drink after drink while Roddy pushed papers in her face and told her all she to do was sign and she would never have to wait tables again. The innocent and very inebriated Bonnie signed without ever reading through the fine print, at the time thinking it was the best decision she ever made.
For a while it seemed like it was. With her red hair, large breasts and tall frame she quickly became a favorite at The Bone Yard. Her memorable look and ability to draw people to the club had Roddy paying her special attention. Most nights after she performed he lavished Bonnie with gifts, rich meals and lots of alcohol, followed by wild partying, more alcohol and sex.
One particular wild night found the couple trading vows at a drive-through chapel. It seemed like a good idea to the two of them at the time, mostly because of the ridiculous amount of alcohol they both had consumed.
The honeymoon was very short lived. With the constant drinking and eating at night followed by laying around during the day, Bonnie developed a prominent beer gut very quickly. Many of The Bone Yard’s patrons thought she was pregnant and the amount of money she made began to decrease. Decreasing profits and an increasing waistline soon revealed Roddy’s very short temper to the young Bonnie. He would berate her horribly about her pot belly, screaming at her in front of the other dancers and sometimes customers. It got bad enough that Bonnie eventually just left one day. She filed for an annulment of their marriage and did not see Roddy again, until…..
About three weeks ago at a sports bar Bonnie was having drinks with friends and Roddy was making a rare trip away from his club to recruit naïve young girls as dancers. He saw her first and had a waitress bring over two huge platters of riblets to her table. When she looked around confused, Roddy sauntered over and said in voice loud enough for most people around to hear, “I knew you would be depressed after I left you, but I didn’t think you’d eat yourself to the size of a house. I had them bring you some food because you looked so hungry, but I suppose you always look hungry.”
The utter shock on her face fueled Roddy’s nastiness even more and he continued with a good five minutes of insults that focused on Bonnie’s excess weight. He even went so far as to firmly pat his former wife on her cottage cheese-textured arm, causing an extended period of jiggling. When he finished he crossed his arms and grinned from ear to ear, thinking he had just crushed his former wife emotionally.
Bonnie was not crushed, however. After she got over the shock of seeing her abusive ex, she waited for him to finish his tirade and then shot back immediately with an even longer barrage of one-liners that centered mostly on Roddy’s small penis and lack of sexual prowess, but also covered things like his receding hairline and pock-marked skin.
The crowd that had been mostly silent during Roddy’s tirade seemed to take Bonnie’s side and cheered, and some even clapped when she responded. This did not sit well with Roddy, but with what seemed like an entire bar full of people against him, he was forced to slink out the bar defeated. Due to his emotionally unhinged personality, Roddy stewed on the incident for days, getting progressively more upset and angry. Finally he came up with a plan that he was sure would have Bonnie crying, down on her knees begging for forgiveness.
Roddy tracked down his former bride’s number and called her saying he would sue her for breach of contract if she did not comply with a few demands he had. The contract Bonnie had signed all those years ago in a half-drunken stupor was coming back to haunt her. She did not remember a thing on that contract and she knew very little about the legal system. Roddy knew this and used her lack of knowledge to his advantage. He made some grandiose threats he knew he could not back up, but he was fairly certain she would be too scared to call him out on his claims.
He was right. Bonnie was terrified she could lose all she worked for to the crooked club owner, but she was also very frightened Austin would learn of her past. She was worried that knowledge would change his opinion of her, so she reluctantly agreed to do whatever Roddy asked.
That brings us to the Bone Yard.
Even by dive bar standards The Bone Yard was a disaster. The bar counter was a mess of peeling paint and worn laminate. The barstools that were still attached were covered in an indescribable dark filth. The floor was made up of creaky rotting wood boards, on top of which a collection of mismatched folding chairs and decades-old picnic tables were randomly placed, most of which faced the stage. Obviously deteriorating, but still the best maintained thing in the bar, the stage was a mix of bright, colorful lights and brass poles. Numerous stagelights shown down on the one reason people packed into the bar nightly; the gorgeous array of women who danced around the stage topless.
As Bonnie waddled into the bar, two very generously endowed women were performing on stage. It was a routine that had one of the impossibly gorgeous women packed into a bright orange pair of shorts. A loose-fitting orange sweatshirt, cut so that it barely covered the woman’s basketball-sized tits, had “Prisoner #69” written across the front in black marker. The bleached blonde was running around the stage as fast as her four-inch high platform heels would allow, the large mounds under her shirt bobbing up and down as she did.
Following her around the stage was the second woman, her waist-length hair colored in streaks of pink and black, dressed in skin-tight black pants and chunky platform combat boots. A white button-up blouse was tied just above her well-defined abs; the low neckline revealed breasts that were more natural looking then her co-star’s, but still quite large. A shiny badge and police hat completed the sexy officer look.
The pair pranced around the stage until the police officer got hold of the prisoner’s shirt and with a dramatic tug ripped the garment off the lady’s colossal boobs. Feigning embarrassment, the blonde tried desperately to cross her arms over her amazing rack, with little success.
Bonnie had seen the routine countless times, so she continued through the bar to a door behind the stage that led to the dressing room. She did notice with some glee that the prisoner's abs, that had just two weeks ago had been very chiseled and defined, were now hidden by a thin layer of pudge. Bonnie had recommended the diner to the dancer just over a week ago and the young lady had since been skipping workouts to go have slices of peanut-butter fudge cheesecake at Austin’s.
The dressing room was in worse shape than the rest of the bar. Countless rusted-out lockers lined the wall with narrow, rotting wood benches in front of them. A few dirty, cracked mirrors hung on the wall near the door.
Bonnie ambled in and plopped down on a section of bench she knew from experience could hold her weight; the narrow strip of wood pressed uncomfortably into her wide ass. Her entrance interrupted Roddy’s lecturing of a group of young woman who danced at the bar. They were lined up against their lockers with almost military precision, as Roddy had them do every night. Their expressions reminded Bonnie of a deer in headlights as they listened to his nonsensical rant as he paced back and fourth.
He looked at Bonnie in disgust while she shifted uncomfortably on the bench.
“Take a good look ladies,” he yelled, gesturing toward Bonnie. “If you don’t listen to me and do as I say, this is what your future holds.”
Bonnie took in the image of the man she had once married; a short, balding, middle-aged troll, dressed in an odd combination of tight denim pants and a baggy silk shirt. His greasy handlebar mustache framed an angry scowl and tobacco-stained teeth.
Behind him his current girlfriend, Tashia, stood watching her man with wild-eyed excitement. Tashia’s towering 6’ frame looked even taller in her stripper boots (she was easily a full head taller then Roddy). A ridiculously tight mini skirt showed off her long, toned legs that widened slightly at the hips and then tapered back to a paltry 22-inch waist. Her exotic chocolate complexion shimmered with sparkly make-up.
“Now that the cow’s here, you girls better help get her ready. She has to perform in twenty minutes.” Roddy pointed at two of the ladies, who immediately scurried over to Bonnie.
Roddy’s plan had been to make Bonnie dance at the club like she used to. He was certain the humiliation of showcasing her massively obese body on stage would shatter her emotionally and he could enjoy the view of his whale of an ex who thought she could get the better of him groveling in his club.
That did not happen. Although it was very tough for Bonnie both physically and emotionally, she refused to let the overbearing Roddy see her give in. She had been able to tough it out, but now, going on over a week of working days at the diner while dancing nights for Roddy; Bonnie was starting to wonder how much longer she could make it.
A petite young brunette with cantaloupe-sized breasts and a spritely little blonde with a beautiful golden skin tone began Bonnie’s stage prep. They helped Bonnie out of her tight-fitting sweats. Underneath was her costume. A string bikini top, so skimpy the straps dug deeply into her shoulders and completely disappeared around her sides and back. The triangles that would easily cover D-size breasts barely even covered the wide, dark areolas of Bonnie’s cartoonishly huge and still somehow very spherical shaped boobs. The bright yellow fabric drew attention to the portions of deep purple areole that were visible around the undersized top.
Thigh-high fishnet stockings covered Bonnie’s lower half. The material seemed unnaturally stretched by her immensely stout legs and had to be clipped to her lace panties to keep from rolling down her soft thighs.
The helpers stuffed Bonnie’s already swollen feet into a pair of bright white platform heels that could barely be laced around her thick ankles.
The girls then brought out three bottles of baby oil to rub Bonnie down with. The girls seem to enjoy the feel of Bonnie’s soft, pliable skin, so they took great care in rubbing her down, making sure every jiggling roll of blubber and every cascading flap of fat was slick and shiny. They spent a great deal of time on Bonnie’s amazing tits. The dancers giggled as Bonnie unconsciously bite her lower lip when they meticulously rubbed and pinched her sensitive nipples to stiffness. These were very cute and small in comparison to the huge sacks of flesh they pointed out from. Her large areolas also swelled as a result of all the attention, to the point that they almost looked like they would pop the tiny bikini top right off.
Bonnie tried to make a small positive out her unfavorable situation and closed her eyes to try and fantasize her way out of the dingy strip bar during her rub down. In her mind she visualized that it was Austin running his hands over every inch of her supple body.
After the oil, some fresh nail polish and bright red lipstick, Bonnie looked amazing.
“You’re ready to go, doll,” the brunette squeaked.
The first few steps were always tough. Without being able to see her feet Bonnie had to judge the steps she took in the platforms by feel. Even after she got the hang of the unnatural footware, the stilted motion they caused resulted in her watery flesh wobbling and bouncing uncontrollably. The lack of support under her breasts meant that her lower back bore the full strain of her heavy fun bags and exposed belly with every weighty flop.
Once out on stage with the music blaring and the intense lights glaring at her, she used the few moves she could still do to entertain the crowd. The jumping jack was usually first, as it was harder to do after she got tired. Bonnie would attempt a jump, although she never would actually leave the ground. The stress on her overtaxed knees was intense, but the resulting slapping of her abundant chest against her chins and then down against her belly created quite a stir amongst the hard to please crowd. A few spins around the pole was followed by a little shimmy to the music.
Most of the reactions Bonnie received for her dancing had been pretty favorable. Her enormous rack and long, flowing strawberry blonde hair had a good deal to do with it. However, the unique spectacle of a morbidly obese stripper gyrating around on stage seemed to be drawing a number of loyal fans. Word of mouth had spread quickly and soon after her first performance, and the club became a hotspot for FAs whenever Bonnie was set to dance. The fact infuriated Roddy to no end, since his intent was that she would be booed offstage.
The crowd tonight was the usual group of regulars who had been enjoying Bonnie’s abundant charms night in and night out. Lots of loud cheering people lined the stage, while the quieter ones who preferred to stay low profile sat along the back wall.
There were a couple of newcomers tonight back along that wall that caught Bonnie’s eye. A man in a hoody pulled up to hide his face seemed very interested in Bonnie as she danced. He seemed to be intently looking into her eyes, however, which was unusual for Bone Yard patrons. As Bonnie continued her routine the man seemed oddly familiar to her, even though she could not make out any of his physical features.
Seated next to the new stranger was a man that attracted Bonnie’s attention for a different reason; he was so large that he needed two of the folding chairs to sit on. A mountain of blubber, the guy had to weigh over 400 pounds. Despite his massive size he was exceptionally well dressed; a very expensive custom-made suit covered his acres of flesh.
Bonnie was so distracted by the strange new admirers that she almost missed the point in the song where she swung around with her backside to the audience and shook her hips so that her bulbous ass cheeks and burgeoning thigh cheese clapped together loudly in beat with the music. She just made it and enjoyed a nice little applause from the crowd for her efforts.
The noise brought Roddy out from the back room. He scowled at Bonnie from the doorway as the music ended and a new song started.
The start of the second song was usually when Bonnie whipped off the skimpy little string bikini top and reveal her jugs in all their glory to the salivating audience. Tonight she was nearly frozen in place as she watched the mysterious hooded man storm over toward Roddy and engage in a heated argument. Bonnie could only see the back off the stranger, but Roddy’s face was beet red with anger. Instead of having the bouncer kick the man out of the bar like Bonnie assumed he would, he simply turned back into the dressing room.
Upon seeing Roddy retreat backstage, the suited behemoth laboriously lifted his mass out of the two chairs and followed the club owner where normally no one but employees were allowed.
Bonnie watched as the hooded stranger walked toward the stage, seemingly coming right at her. She felt very vulnerable, knowing she had no hope of running and hiding in the unsteady platforms. As the man got closer, the way he moved and his tall, lean build still seemed very familiar to Bonnie. By the time he maneuvered through the crowd, which was beginning to get restless, and stepped up onto the stage, she knew exactly who it was before he pulled down his hood.
She was relieved and shocked all at the same time to see Austin. Relieved that there was a friendly face that was not leering at her or judging her, and shocked by the fact that since he was here, he must have known for a while at least that she had been lying to him about her nighttime activities.
Amidst all the confusion and chaos Austin had a very calm, friendly demeanor to him as he laid his hands on Bonnie’s oiled shoulders and leaned across her expansive bosom to whisper to her.
“As much as I was really looking forward to the second song of your set, I’m afraid I’m going to have to interrupt so we can take care of some business with your ex.”
“How did you find out?” Bonnie stammered.
“I followed you last night. The bouncer filled in what I wasn’t able to figure out after I slipped him a couple Ben Franklins,” Austin answered.
Austin ushered her through the crowd, whose attention had been diverted from the disturbance by the return of the “policewoman” and “prisoner” from earlier hopping back on stage and twirling around topless to some loud music.
It was much quieter in the changing room. The young dancers who had been wide eyed and frightened before, now stood around gaping at their once irate boss, slumped on a bench with his head down.
The large suit-clad patron had put two more chairs together to sit down on.
“Mr. Milsworth,” Austin started right in as he walked through the door. “I don’t want to waste everybody’s time so I’ll get right to it. I had your very helpful bouncer get me a copy of the contract you have every one of your dancers sign before you hire them.”
He walked over to the seated Roddy as he spoke, taking out a copy of the contract from his back pocket. Roddy kept his head down as if he knew all too well what Austin was leading up to. “I thought it was going to take an awful lot to figure out a way around this iron-clad legal document, so I called in a favor from my good friend, Mr. Riono, who happens to be an attorney up in New York.” Austin gestured to the fat man taking up two folding chairs with his extra-cushiony ass. “He took one look at this and do you know what he said?” Austin paused dramatically but neither Roddy, his dancers, Tashia, who was standing frozen with shock against the wall, nor Bonnie said anything.
“It’s garbage,” Riono broke the silence. “Not even worth the paper it’s printed on. I doubt very highly that you had anyone with any legal knowledge help you with that at all,” he continued as Austin shredded the document for emphasis. “The only way it could be any less official is if was written in crayon.”
“So that’s the end of that.” Austin sprinkled the shreds of paper over the still slumped Roddy’s head. “You girls are free to go. If you choose to keep working here you might find things a bit different from now on.”
The ladies quickly got their things and headed out. Hushed whispers of “Thank goodness,” and “I can’t wait” could be heard as they headed toward the door.
“You know, I hate to be the bearer of bad news and send you girls off like this,” Austin grinned a little mischievously. “So why don’t you ladies swing by my place downtown whenever you’re in the mood for some good food. Tell ‘em Austin sent you, and you’ll get hooked up.”
There was a buzz as the dancers left. “I’ve heard it’s really good. We should stop there now,” could be heard from the cheerful group.
“Do you mean me too?” a jittery Tashia asked.
Austin pictured the sultry beauty with a few more pounds packed onto her svelte hips and answered, “Sure. If you go make sure you ask for the double fudge brownie pie. I think you’d really enjoy it.”
Tashia scampered out into the parking lot without so much as glancing at her boyfriend.
Austin walked over to Mr. Riono and grabbed the overcoat the lawyer had been carrying under his arm. He walked it over to Bonnie and draped it over her shoulders.
“You need a ride home?” he asked.
She nodded, thinking it would be Austin that would take her home.
“Riono’s car is outside, he can take you home.” He looked over at his friend. “Darren, you want to drop her off on your way? I’ll finish up with our friend here.”
Darren nodded and lifted himself off the creaking chairs.
“Austin. Don’t do anything stupid, now. He’s not worth it.” Bonnie gripped Austin's arm firmly.
“We are just going to discuss his business future here in Houston. Falsifying legal documents is a very serious offense,” Austin replied loud enough so the dejected club owner could hear. “Now seriously, go home and rest. Take tomorrow off; take the day after that off if you need it.”
Bonnie nodded and started to turn to leave, but then turned back around. “Austin,” she said.
She leaned in quickly and kissed him smack on the lips and then hurriedly waddled out the side door.
Out in the parking lot, Bonnie and Darren got into the back of the attorney’s black limo. The car sank noticeably as the hefty pair settled into their seats. Bonnie took up most of the back bench while Darren’s wide body filled up even more space along the side bench.
“He must really care for you,” Darren broke the slightly uncomfortable silence.
“You’d never know by talking to him,” Bonnie shrugged.
“He’s seems to be getting better with his social skills. Back at his restaurant in New York he’d go weeks without saying anything to anyone. For him to call me up and ask for a favor is huge for him.”
“I suppose,” Bonnie shrugged again. “He’s still got a ways to go yet. I’m just sorry you had to come all this way for nothing.”
“Oh, it won’t be for nothing. My plane doesn’t leave until Thursday. I think I’ll be spending most of that time in the diner catching up on all the meals I’ve missed since he closed down the place back home,” Darren said with a gleam in his eye.
Bonnie didn't know what to say. It didn't look like Mr. Riono had missed many meals at all.
“My wife will be happy. She’s been complaining I’ve been wasting away to nothing since he left.” Darren patted his substantial belly.
“Yeah. I’ve dropped over 150 pounds since I haven’t been able to eat the lunch and dinners at his restaurant every day.”
Bonnie’s eyes widened as she tried to picture the already overstuffed attorney with a whole human being's worth of fat clinging onto his body.
“In fact, I’m going right to the diner after I drop you off. I hope he doesn’t take too long with that Roddy scum. I’m really looking forward to a big piece of his authentic Italian lasagna."
Story continued in post 13 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 08-30-2007 at 07:07 PM.
|08-30-2007, 06:12 PM||#12|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Thanks. Glad you like it.
There are some more chapters to come. The next couple focus more on Angel then they do on Bonnie and Austin.
|08-30-2007, 06:41 PM||#13|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Chapter Six - THE NEW HIRE
“It’s so cute. They’re like a couple of school kids.”
“I’m glad you think it’s cute. You haven’t had to watch it for the last week.”
Angel and Rhonda stood behind the counter; Angel looking out over the busy morning rush, Rhonda peeking back through the pass-through at Bonnie and Austin who were obviously flirting with each other while Austin worked the grill.
“Why do you say that? Have they finally started dating?” Rhonda asked, as she watched Bonnie slowly wipe Austin’s sweaty forehead with a portion of her t-shirt.
“They’d never admit it even if they were. Last week though, he called me in a couple nights so he could leave for a while,” Angel explained, still looking over the crowded tables.
Rhonda’s eyes widened. “You think it was to go meet Bonnie? That’s so sweet.”
“Whatever,” Angel scoffed.
Rhonda was a friend of Angel's who had begun working part-time at the diner some eight months ago. The then full-figured African-American whose exaggerated hour-glass shape attracted a lot of double takes from men quickly found her willpower was no match for the constant access to rich, delicious foods. Within six months of employment she found her formally soft size 16 frame ballooning quite nicely into a billowing size 22. The hourglass was no more, but since she possessed not only a heaving pair of DDs, but also a constantly jiggling mass of butt, the men easily overlooked her prominent pouch of a belly.
“What’s got you so grumpy?” Rhonda asked her friend.
“That guy I was seeing from the club, I found out he’s engaged,” Angel explained.
“The Cuban with the purple car?”
“No. I’m talking about the white guy, with the sideburns. Anyway, his friend tells me about his fiancée last night and then five minutes later, he’s hitting on me, and I know he has a girlfriend.”
“Wow. You haven’t had much luck with men lately,” Rhonda said, while refilling a few drinks for customers at the counter.
“Tell me about it. On top of that there’s some new girl coming in today that I have to train.”
Angel was on break when the trainee came in. One pie plate was pushed aside and had been cleaned of any remains of the generous portion, double layer strawberry-rhubarb pie. A second plate with an extra creamy slice of French silk pie was half gone, and Angel was only five minutes into her break.
Angel’s recent frustrations with men in the past weeks had her indulging even more than usual on the decadent desserts served by the diner. The result had her weight climbing over 270 with her backside swelling to unbelievable proportions.
As Bonnie escorted the new hire, Angel turned her attention away from the sugary slice long enough to get a look at the young woman. She was a wiry little thing, not much older than Angel. Her hair was dyed a very unnatural shade of silver. A sickly, pale complexion coupled with way too much eye shadow gave her a very ghostly look.
The most notable thing about the new young waitress was that almost every exposed inch of skin below her chin was covered in tattoos. A colorful tapestry of flowers, hearts and skulls wove its way up her neck. Her thin arms were decorated with images ranging from a pin-up girl leaning against a classic car to vampire bats impaled with daggers. Names and sayings written in everything from intricate calligraphy to graffiti-type lettering intertwined all the way down onto the backs of her hands. Her scrawny legs, while not quite as filled in with ink as the rest of her, had cartoon characters and wild animals permanently on display.
As she approached the binging Angel, whose cheeks bulged out from the large bites she forked past her lips, the pencil-thin new hire smiled widely, revealing blindingly white teeth.
“Emily, this is Angel. She’ll be training you today.” Bonnie started the introductions. “Angel, this is the new girl, Emily. She’ll be following you around today.”
As Bonnie spoke, Angel could not help but notice from her seated position that Bonnie’s shorts were unbuttoned. Between the separated fasteners Angel got a glimpse of the overworked control top hose Bonnie poured her burgeoning midsection into. From the looks of it, control top or not, her bloated gut was not going to allow those shorts to close anytime soon.
"Probably from sitting back in the kitchen all day, flirting with Austin while she stuffs her face with cookies and guzzles chocolate milk," Angel thought to herself. She did not mean to be resentful, especially towards Bonnie, but her current mood had her holding a grudge against anyone who was having better luck with men than she was.
As Bonnie shuffled back over to the grill, Emily sat down across from Angel.
“It’s a man isn’t it?” she stated matter of factly.
“What?” Angel asked through a mouthful of pie.
“The way you’re tearing into that dessert it has to be because of something some man did.” Although presumptuous and intrusive, Emily had a very friendly, good-natured manner that caused Angel to lower her guard a little.
“I seem to be attracted to the wrong kind of man lately.” Angel followed her words with another hunk of pie.
“Believe me, honey, there is no right kind of man.” There was a hint of a fading New Jersey accent in Emily’s voice. “Don’t let me interrupt your break. Please finish your pie.”
Thrown off by Emily’s forwardness, Angel gobbled down a few more forkfuls in silence before gathering herself enough to start the training.
“You get meals free here. So whatever you want just tell Bonnie and she’ll have Austin make it.” Angel pointed with her fork to towards the grill.
“I wish I had tits like that,” Emily said, looking toward Bonnie. “Any back pain would be so worth the power that comes with a huge rack.” Shifting her gaze back to Angel, she abruptly reached out and collected a pie crumb from the corner of Angel’s mouth with a long black fingernail. She let out a low moan as she sucked it off her finger tip. “Mmmmmm. That’s amazing. Remind me to get that for my break,” she purred in a slightly flirty tone.
At a loss for how to respond, Angel decided to take the rookie out onto the floor and show her the ropes.
She did not need much showing. Emily’s over-the-top friendliness and non-stop talking went over very well with the customers. She gossiped with the ladies and flirted with the guys. She was great at reading people; she seemed to know when to pull back when her chattiness might make people uncomfortable and when to go all out. She handled the orders without a pad, just by memory, and got it right every time. When it came time for Angel and Emily to break for lunch, Emily’s attitude had grown on Angel and the two were talking and giggling like a couple of old friends.
“So you really never waitressed before? Because you’re taking to it pretty well," Angel commented.
“No, never. I worked at my brother’s record shop, until he sold it to go back to school. I think it’s the interaction. Anything to do with people, I enjoy doing.”
The pair sat down to two huge bowls of Austin’s special three cheese macaroni, two tall glasses of chocolate milkshakes and two huge chunks of homemade carrot cake surrounded by scoops of creamy vanilla ice cream. The two bonded as they ate, at first just about little things, like where they liked to shop and what music they liked.
Then Emily steered the conversation back to Angel’s recent guy problems. Angel was so intently opening up about her inability to find a decent man that she did not notice Emily subtly adding to her already large portions of food. Emily so cleverly hid her actions that Angel had no idea she had finished her lunch and over half of her new friend's. Emily watched with a big grin during the course of the meal as the corpulent young Latina’s legs instinctively spread apart to allow for her swelling belly to settle more comfortably. Having no idea how much she ate, Angel was a little confused at her feeling of extreme fullness.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been complaining about boys this whole time,” she apologized, rubbing her bloated tummy.
“No need to be sorry. I know exactly what you’re going through.” Emily pushed the last couple bites of cake around her plate. “I really can’t finish this. Do you want it?”
Angel was not too full to scoop the remainder right into her mouth, while Emily watched admiringly.
“You know what you need? You need to go out and blow off some steam tonight,” Emily proposed. “You should go out dancing with my friends and me.”
“I’d have to skip volleyball tonight, but sure, it sounds like fun,” Angel agreed.
As the two finished their lunch and headed back out to work, Austin waited for them to get out of earshot before asking, “What’s the story with the new girl?”
“What do you mean?” Bonnie took another bite of the chocolate chip- macadamia nut cookie she had been snacking on.
“She just seems kind of odd.”
“Because of the tattoos?”
“I’m not sure what it is. Probably nothing. Never mind.”
“Back to what we were talking about before,” Bonnie smiled slyly. “Is saving a poor girl from a slimy ex-husband the only reason you’d ever take a night off from the diner?”
Austin flashed a knowing grin. “What other reason would I have to take a night off?”
“Maybe if you had a date to go on?” Bonnie seductively licked a half-melted chocolate chip off her lip.
Austin continued to play dumb. “I don’t know anyone who would go on a date with me. Do you?”
“Depends on if you like good girls or bad girls,” Bonnie played along.
Standing by the grill most of the day had caused Bonnie to sweat even more then usual. Her t-shirt was all but soaked, clinging tightly to her snug-fitting bra and outlining every inch of her soft, sagging belly.
“Yes,” Austin answered.
“I know a good girl who has some bad tendencies,” Bonnie teased, inching closer to the cook.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, she’ll be pretty well behaved on the first couple dates. You might only get a kiss when you drop her off.” Bonnie moved in really close, resting her cookie crumb-covered hands on Austin’s firm pectorals. “But if you get a third date it means she knows you’re worth her time and she’ll let you come up to her place and…” Bonnie moved her lips right next to Austin’s ear and whispered very descriptively what sensual acts awaited the lucky recipient of a third date. As she whispered a definite bulge from Austin’s crotch pressed firmly into Bonnie’s stomach. As she pulled back Bonnie looked deeply into Austin’s eyes. “Then on the fourth date….”
“Th-There’s more?” a dumbfounded Austin interrupted.
“Oh, yeah. The third date’s nothing compared to the fourth date. Then she knows she’s comfortable with the guy and really lets loose.”
“How’s that?” Austin anxiously asked.
Bonnie leaned in again, her aroused nipples pressing through her bra into Austin’s chest. She breathlessly whispered what x-rated events awaited a man who made it as far as a fourth date.
Without realizing what he was doing, Austin gripped Bonnie’s pliable shoulders and pulled her into him.
Bonnie teasingly shimmied slightly, causing her belly rolls to jiggle against his stiff member. As she pulled back, she let her hand gently slide down Austin’s chest, over his firm stomach just above his beltline before stopping.
“You think this girl would say yes if I asked her out?” a very aroused Austin asked.
“You might get a date or two. I can’t guarantee a third.” Bonnie suddenly broke contact and picked up another cookie off the nearby counter. “Depends on much you impress her.”
Story continued in post 22 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 09-03-2007 at 07:18 PM.
|09-01-2007, 10:22 AM||#17|
Join Date: Feb 2007
It's very nice of all of you to say such nice things. I'm just glad to hear people are following the story.
I wrote a lot in college after I discovered this genre. Some friends with similar interests would throw out a topic and those of us that wrote would all create our own individual story. The ones that didn't write would be our critics.
Since college I've continued writing as a hobby, when an idea strikes me.
|09-01-2007, 11:21 AM||#18|
Join Date: Jan 2006
You've definitely got skill, that's for sure. I especially like the episodic nature of this story. It's like a TV series or something. Lots of characters, lots going on. Very good work.
|09-01-2007, 11:33 AM||#19|
Join Date: Mar 2006
I can tell that you have not only training, but some considerable natural talent for writing as well. You have constructed a smooth, clear narrative and use excellent descriptive language for both characters and setting. All of your writing skills are excellent but I would say that those are your primary strengths. Excellent work, can't wait to see more.
|09-02-2007, 03:09 PM||#20|
Join Date: Feb 2007
I hate to post again without having more story, but I wanted to voice my appreciation for the praise that has been posted since I last logged on. I appreciate every word of it.
Just to clarify. When I said I wrote in college, the writing was just for fun and not part my schooling. I was a business major and never got any schooling in writing. I'd hate to mislead anybody into thinking I know more then I do.
|09-03-2007, 12:09 PM||#22|
Join Date: Feb 2007
The next chapter
Chapter 7 - GIRLS NIGHT OUT
“Angel, this is Timber and Fawn. Guys this is Angel, my new co-worker.” Emily made the introductions as best she could given the loud music blaring over the club’s speakers. The girls were standing next to the bar sipping martinis and gently swaying to the music.
Timber was a striking looking woman. Her braided hair was colored neon pink and tonight she had picked everything she wore to match exactly. Everything from her lipstick and nail color to her leather mini-skirt and tube top was the same bright pink as her hair. Her skin was a deep caramel color, and unlike Emily she had no noticeable tattoos. Instead her skin was decorated with severe muscle definition on just about every exposed area.
Fawn did not have any of the firm muscle tone her friend did; in fact she appeared quite soft and voluptuous. Her full hour-glass shape and platinum blonde hair gave off a very Marilyn Monroe vibe. She wore a form-fitting v-neck sweater that showcased her large chest and slight pouch of a belly.
The two girls were very friendly, and like Emily, very affectionate. After a few drinks Angel became very comfortable with the trio and began having a good time. When they hit the dance floor, Timber and Fawn created a scene as they danced very erotically with each other; men clogged the dance floor to gawk at the dirty dancing on display. A few brave ones tried to join in, only to be met with dirty looks and sent back to watch with everyone else.
After some time Emily began dancing the same way with Angel. Whether it was the high number of drinks she had let her three companions buy her, or the feeling of power she got by being watched by the crowd of drunk, horny men, Angel really got into it. She would rub her wobbly rear end, which was packed into a figure-hugging pair of low-rise jeans, against Emily while her companion spanked her repeatedly, sending tidal waves of flesh vibrating all the way down her thighs.
The night soon became a blur as not only were her friends keeping her with a full drink in one hand, but guys started buying her drinks to try and win her attention. She was vaguely aware the girls were becoming more and more affectionate with her. Emily always had a hand on her thigh or her ass, while Timber or Fawn would massage her back while they waited in line for drinks and rub her feet when they took a break from dancing. Her friends also became very protective of the young Angel; they angrily chased off men who tried to talk with her or press up next to her on the dance floor.
Eventually they decided to head to another club and Angel had to lean on her friends to keep walking in a straight line. They stopped to buy Angel a large slice of greasy pizza before hitting the next dance spot. Angel was in heaven, with all the attention she was getting from men along with the strong drinks and junk food; all her vices were being satisfied at once.
After three more clubs and two more fast food joints it was finally bar time. Angel was very drunk from the endless stream of drinks and very bloated from all the between bar snacks she had allowed the girls to feed her. Her jeans, which had fit like a glove at the beginning of the night, now were skin tight, with a thick roll of belly hanging over the front and a good portion of her prominent butt cheeks rising up like bread dough in the back. The pants had become tight enough that even bending at the knee was difficult. Angel resembled an over-inflated blow-up doll as she waddled stiff legged down the street. Her chubby hands gripped the back of Emily’s shoulders as she struggled to keep her balance.
“I’m starving,” Timber announced.
“Yeah we need to get something to eat,” Fawn agreed.
“We could go to the diner,” Angel offered, slurring almost every word.
One cab ride later, the ladies were seated in a corner booth at Austin’s. Amber greeted them and turned in their rather large order to Austin who was so distracted with writing checks for bills he had been putting off and keeping up with cleaning the kitchen, he did not even realize who it was.
Amber brought out Emily’s order of chocolate chip pancakes, Timber’s order of toffee cheesecake, Fawn’s double bacon cheeseburger with onion rings and Angel’s Philly cheesesteak, waffle fries and apple pie.
Angel was the only one who began eating. The three other began attending to their new friend. Timber, who was seated next to her, tenderly rubbed the back of Angel’s neck. Fawn slid her hand underneath Angel’s distended gut and undid the button on her jeans, allowing her stuffed paunch to spread onto her lap. Emily was helping feed her by shoveling forkfuls from everyone else’s plate, in between the large mouthfuls Angel was cramming down her gullet on her own.
Angel was completely content. “Oh wow. This feels amazing,” she moaned.
“Has any man ever treated you like this?” Emily asked.
“No. Never,” she replied.
“It takes a woman to understand exactly what a woman needs to feel pampered and appreciated,” Timber chimed in.
The erotic massage and uninhibited gluttony continued. The three girls were actually able to watch Angel’s belly swell with each decadent bite. Her taut stomach pressed firmly into the edge of the table and then engulfed it as every last morsel of food was lovingly placed into her mouth. Without even realizing it Angel had trapped herself in the booth with her own expanding waistline. She was wedged in so tightly she could not budge an inch. Fawn rubbed some grease from the cheeseburger plate on to her palm and transferred it to Angel’s pronounced midsection to allow her to slide slowly to the edge of the bench.
Emily and her friends helped the overstuffed, and still very drunk, Angel back to her apartment, where they were able to help her out of her binding clothing and into her bed before she passed out.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Emily whispered as she admired the blubbery, half-naked young woman. “She’s like a walking ode to gluttony and excess, letting her appetite run unchecked, as it should be. It would have been a shame if a man had ruined her.”
“You keep feeding her like that and she won’t be a walking ode to gluttony for long,” Timber snickered.
“Let’s go. She needs her rest.”
Story continued in post 23 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 09-11-2007 at 07:43 AM.
|09-10-2007, 05:29 PM||#23|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Chapter 8 - A GROWING ATTRACTION
Emily’s feelings for Angel were completely genuine. While her outward expression of her affection seemed misguided, to say the least, it was unfortunately the only way she knew how to express her love for someone.
She had learned it from her mother. Her mom had showed this all or nothing style of love to Emily’s worthless drunk of a father. Instead of food, her mother showered the withered, jobless little man with his favorite vices - beer and cigarettes. She lived in a self-induced fear that if her man was ever not satisfied he would leave her. Emily’s father quickly realized he could take advantage of the inexplicably love-struck woman and did exactly that for years. Emily’s mother worked herself to exhaustion every day to cater to her lover.
As the relationship eventually turned sour and Emily’s dad ended up returning her mother's loyal, but unhealthy, love by becoming abusive, Emily was taken by her older brother as far away as he could get her from the Newark trailer park, but not before her mother’s obsessive style of affection was permanently ingrained in Emily’s head.
She took that smothering love into relationship after relationship. She wore her heart on her sleeve and provided as well as she could to every sinful want and desire her boyfriends had. That suffocating style, combined with her very poor choice in men, always ended in heartbreak and eventually ended with a near felony being added to her record when a particularly immoral older man sent her on a trip to pick him up some very illegal drugs. Sitting in a holding cell for three days caused Emily to swear off men forever at the tender age of eighteen.
Five years of dating woman has not had Emily faring much better. While her girlfriends had been less apt to take advantage of her, the women she dated quickly grew weary of Emily catering to their desires whether they wanted her to or not.
Timber and Fawn had found her overbearing love cute, only because it had not been aimed in their direction. They befriended her and had been there for her through many an unhappy ending.
Angel however was shaping up to be very different.
Angel continued to go out with the girls almost every night for weeks, long after most girls had grown annoyed of Emily. She loved the feeling of being someone’s main priority and spoiled beyond belief. She had a lot in common with her new friends and looked forward to the time she spent with them.
She also loved the way her new companions toyed with men and flaunted their sexuality, although in the back of her mind she was beginning to wonder if the open affection they showed toward each other and her was more then just a show for the boys. Either way she had become quite comfortable with it. She even began reciprocating as much, if not more, affection towards Emily. Most often times, the two were holding hands, if they were not groping at each other playfully. After a couple weeks it became just the two of them hanging out, flirting, eating and drinking.
Of course Angel’s decadence, along with blowing off her sporting events in favor of late night partying, came at a price. Her weight climbed at a blistering pace. Just over a month after meeting Emily, Angel was mere single digits from passing the 300-pound mark. It happened so quickly she had no idea, and was still trying to pack her growing ass into the same uniform shorts she had worn thirty days ago. The image was almost comical; she looked like an overstuffed sausage about to pop.
The seams of the stressed shorts strained terribly as she sat down at the break table before her shift. Emily had a large plate of beef- and cheese-filled breakfast burritos, along with an enormous, gooey cinnamon roll with extra icing waiting for the object of her affection.
Looking at the delectable feast, yet feeling the waistband of her shorts digging into her flesh, Angel knew she had to change into a larger size or risk splitting the current pair as she ate.
“Wait here. Let me run back to the closet and get a looser pair of shorts.”
“Let me go with you. I need a bigger pair too.” Emily lifted her t-shirt to reveal a modest little ridge mushrooming over her waistband. Although her gain was barely even noticeable, Emily had was not able to escape the effects of a gluttonous lifestyle and the diner’s irresistible menu completely.
“Follow me; I know where Bonnie keeps the key.” The ponderous swaying of Angel’s jelly-like rear as she lumbered toward the storage closet caused a few seams on the shorts to begin to pull loose. Emily licked her lips as she followed, cautiously looking over shoulder to make sure no one was watching.
The closet was a tiny little room with racks of shorts and t-shirts on two walls. With the racks there was barely enough room for two normal-sized people to fit in. The plus-sized Angel took up most of that space with her rear end so there was hardly enough room for Emily. The pair managed to squeeze in, however, and closed the door so they could change privately. Emily had her shorts off rather quickly, but Angel found hers were so tight she could not even get the unbuttoned waistband over her hips. Emily got down on her knees to help tug at the binding fabric.
At first she purposely prolonged the task by tickling areas of Angel’s anatomy she knew were sensitive; the tender sacks of fat that bunched up around her knees, and the soft, pale underbelly that sagged down over the waistband of her thong. Soon, though, Emily realized just how stuck the shorts were. Putting all her weight into tugging the skin-tight material managed to barely move them downward
“How did you even get these on?” Emily chuckled.
Slowly the shorts came down inch, by inch. All the while the tight quarters forced Emily’s chin to rub up against the crotch of Angel's thong panties. Of course not all the touching was forced by the small closet; Emily strategically used her hot breath, moist lips and knowledge of Angel’s pleasure zones to have Angel red faced, panting and noticeably moist by the time the shorts were pried down her bulbous hips and butt. Emily looked up past the bulging rolls of belly and breast and saw Angel’s eyes were closed and she was biting her lower lip. She took this a sign to continue.
She blew on Angel's slit until she noticed her instinctively thrust her hips forward. Emily began gently sucking the inside of the globular, doughy thighs, while reaching around and grabbing huge handfuls of heavy ass flesh. The close-up view of Angel’s soft, stretchmark-covered inner thighs and the feeling of her dimpled, sagging butt oozing around her fingers had Emily just as aroused as her girlfriend. Angel moaned and whimpered as Emily teased around the area for what seemed like hours, causing her to get progressively wetter and wetter until her thong was soaked.
The tension built to the point that Angel started begging as she gripped tightly onto the racks for support. Emily continued to tease until the begging turned into incoherent babbling. Every inch of Angel’s blubbery flesh seemed alive as it quivered with anticipation. Emily then mercifully moved the thong to the side and attended to Angel’s very aroused pussy. The feeling of a woman’s experienced tongue working her clit was a sensation unlike anything Angel had felt with any man. She melted into a pool of wobbling, sweating flesh, panting heavily and clenching her teeth to try and stifle the screams of pleasure. She was completely at the whim of Emily, who used her talented tongue to bring multiple climaxes seemingly at will. When the feeling of orgasm after orgasm finally subsided and Emily’s face came back into view, Angel could think of only one thing to say.
“I think I love you.”
“I know I love you,” Emily replied without hesitation.
Story continued in post 27 of this thread
Last edited by Risible; 09-18-2007 at 01:43 PM.
|09-11-2007, 01:22 AM||#24|
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: In your dreams
Reasons why prime time TV needs to belong to awesome fiction again. Great job. I can't wait for more of the BHM segments.
I am me. That's all I need to be.
|09-12-2007, 09:58 AM||#25|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Hey, thanks for the feedback. Personally I've given up on prime time televsion.
Anyway, your comment about a BHM segment got me to thinking about a chapter more focused on that subject, which I have been holding off just because it wasn't central to the main plot. Now I'm leaning toward weaving it back into the story.