BHM Acid Orchid ~FFA, SSBHM, Friends with Benefits, Romance

Dimensions Magazine

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Well-Known Member
Aug 12, 2014
Author's note: This is my first piece (well chunk of a piece) on here so I hope you guys like it. Many of the longer realistic settings pieces on here seem to deal with more of a meek insecure type of BHM so I wanted to try the opposite and see how it worked out.

Acid Orchid​

Scene 1.

Katie was convinced she would eventually meet her soul mate at Taco Land.

The restaurant stayed open til four AM and was located on the same street as the city’s most popular bars. It had become their unspoken ritual, she and Mia would walk there at two after all the bars closed. The somewhat small building would be packed to the brim with half-drunk people in their twenties. People would be forced to share tables with strangers due to sheer lack of space, and if said strangers looked good to each other maybe no one would have to go home alone that night.

The two girls, who had been friends since the beginning of college, were completely dissimilar both in terms of who they were and the types of people they were attracted to. Katie’s type varied. Lately she had gotten it in her head that the reason why all of her past relationships ended so badly was because she kept dating guys that weren’t ‘mature’. Mia thought Katie’s definition of mature was problematic, as it seemed to exclusively refer to preppy white guys with rich parents. Most of these guys would always clash with Mia when Katie would introduce them. In her opinion, they were almost always too sheltered and over-privileged to have anything interesting to say or to understand many of her beliefs.

Mia generally went for guys who reminded her of herself. Guys who were intelligent enough to ignore the social conventions they didn’t agree with. Guys who were a little misanthropic, but at the same time nice to most people. Guys who understood all of her opinions, even the controversial ones and the overtly feminist ones.

These were the things she told people when they asked her what her ‘type’ was. This often led them to believe that she was open to a broad array of types of people physically. And on some levels that was true: she didn’t have any racial preference, she didn’t care what they did with their hair, she didn’t even care whether they were clean shaven or had an intense Duck Dynasty type beard. However, she did have one preference that took precedence over even her personality tastes.

Nothing turned her on more than a guy who weighed at least over three hundred pounds. To the point where she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to handle a relationship with someone that big, because she’d probably just want to have sex constantly every time she even glanced at him. The closest she’d ever gotten was with her ex-boyfriend of a year and a half ago. He weighed two-twenty which at 5’8 was definitely bordering on fat. It was enough to keep her attracted to him but not enough to really satisfy her.

It was chilly outside. The two girls were running across the four lane street to get to Taco Land. They hadn’t done the first part of the ritual, the bar hopping part, for very long. Since Katie came to the realization that she met better guys at the restaurant then in the bars themselves, she no longer prioritized getting there significantly before one. Mia didn’t understand how Katie wasn’t freezing to death in her tight faux-leather tube dress. She herself was wearing skinny jeans and a blue flannel shirt and she was still shivering.

Thinking about their outfits made her wonder for a moment if they looked like a couple. Both had expressed bi-curious tendencies (for Mia it was because as fat was her primary turn on gender occasionally became secondary on some people and for Katie it was possibly because she thought it made her seem more interesting) but they hadn’t tried anything with each other before. The thought of it made Mia shudder a little even though Katie was beautiful in her opinion, with shoulder length jet black hair, olive skin, and full eyebrows. They were both Dominican though they looked nothing alike. Mia was darker skinned with big tightly curled brown hair that fell to the middle of her rib cage and covered the full width of her shoulders when she wore it down. Katie was tall and willowy while Mia was pint-sized.

They arrived at Taco Land. The brightly lit restaurant looked like a human watering hole against rest of the desolate dark street. The line stretched deep into the middle of the store. As they waited, Katie’s vigilant eyes scanned the room for the finest piece of ass.

She rapidly tapped Mia on the shoulder “We should talk to them.”

Mia looked over to where she was pointing. There sat a group of slender light haired guys in polo’s with a couple of girls sitting with them.

“Pretty sure they’re with a bunch of girls,” she replied sounding unintentionally condescending.

“Yeah I know…” replied Katie wistfully. She continued to look around the room as they got to the front of the line and ordered their food.

It was at that moment that a guy caught Mia’s eye. He was sitting toward the back of the room with one other guy. He was massive. She couldn’t see his entire upper body, as the table was in the way, but everything should could see was enticing. His shoulders were immensely wide, not because of natural body structure or muscle but from pure flab, she could tell even from a distance. She could see the outline of his soft bulky man tits through his black t-shirt. He had gotten to the size where he didn’t even have a double chin anymore, just a thick mass of uninterrupted fat from his face to the base of his neck only obscured slightly by a short well-kept beard. His hair was so dark brown it looked black. At a glance, he looked a bit like a fat version of young Billie Joe Armstrong.

Now it was her turn to tap Katie’s shoulder rapidly.

“Let’s sit over there,” she whispered with excited anticipation.

Katie’s eyes widened “Oh my god let’s!” she agreed enthusiastically.

Mia turned her head sharply at her in confusion. Why’s she agreeing to this?

Only then did she notice the second guy at the table. Dressed like he was about to go golfing, with short side parted hair; he was exactly Katie’s current type. At this point she began to notice small disconcerting details about his fat friend as well. For instance, he had the exact same preppy haircut as the other guy and was wearing Sperry’s. Katie had already begun walking over to them.

“Got room for two more?” Katie asked using her flirting voice.

The skinny guy looked up at her. He looked interested “Yeah for sure!”

The two sat down on the bar stools across from the guys. Mia wondered how the fat guy was able to use these relatively small bar stools. She bit her lip slightly in thought, it’d be really fucking hot if he was using two bar stools…

“Uhh my shoe’s untied,” she muttered, kicking herself a second later for saying it out loud and drawing attention to herself.

She dropped to the floor to pretend to tie her shoes. She was right, he was sitting on two bar stools at once. His huge thighs were splayed out covering the upper part of each bar stool. She could only tell that there were two by looking at the legs of the stools. They looked tiny in comparison to the guy’s legs, there was no way he could have used one. The lower section of his belly fell slightly between his thighs. She could feel herself getting turned on just looking at him from this angle. At that point, she noticed the shoes she was wearing did not, in fact, have laces. Aghh, better stand up before anyone else realizes.

“So what’s your name?” she could hear Katie asking as she got up.

“I’m Ben” replies skinny guy, “And this is Scott.”

Scott raises his over-sized forearm off the table in a half assed wave.

After more about ten minutes of talking, the conversation shifted to what they all did for a living. Mia shuddered a little at the thought that they were talking about that, she felt like a real adult and like a drab cliché simultaneously.

“I work at a law firm right now. It’s has its perks I guess,” Scott says dripping with false modesty.

“Wait how old are you?” Mia asks
“We’re both twenty-three,” Ben replies.

“Hey us too! Well she’s twenty-two actually, but same difference” Katie said with an absurd amount of enthusiasm.

“You already finished law school and got a job?” Mia asks, as she was aware that law school generally takes three years. She hoped it was clear that she was calling bullshit, not being impressed.

“I didn’t finish it. But it isn’t really necessary to be so by-the-book, when you know the right people,” Scott replied in the same faux-nonchalant tone.

“The right people?” Katie asked her eyes wide, “Do you know any celebrities?”

Scott grinned with only one side of his mouth, “Yeah I’ve met a couple. We were actually at this guy we know’s yacht party out in Malibu last month, and guess who was there…”

Mia frowned at him, as she tuned him out distracted by her own thoughts. His cockiness was simultaneously disgusting and compelling to her. Disgusting, because she knows it likely stems from the type of over-privileged upbringing she disliked so much. Compelling, because it’s so rare for a man of his size to act that way. Compelling also, because of how enticing it made the idea of dominating him, breaking him down, and taming him.

After an hour of talking, the restaurant had almost entirely cleared out. Mia was surprised at how well Ben and Katie were getting along. She and Scott interjected one liners into the conversation every so often, but mostly just sat and observed. For a while she at least got to be entertained by watching Scott eat. As it was three AM, the rest of them had gotten two to three small tacos. Meanwhile he had ordered two massive burritos, a side of nachos, and a large soda which he refilled twice as they conversed. He shoveled the food into his mouth rapidly, taking large bites and by the time it was done he still looked unsatisfied.

“Wow that’s amazing that you got to study abroad in Spain” Ben says visibly captivated by his conversation with Katie, “There’s so much culture there. Spanish is such a beautiful language, I wish I spoke it.”

Scott smiles slightly like he has something to say on the subject. His smile is cute, Mia observes. It contrasts against his serious eyes and straight eyebrows making him look more interesting. He opens his mouth to speak.

“I pretty much already know all the Spanish I need to know: limpia mi casa puta. That means clean my house bitch,” he laughs loudly.

Mia shook her head. He was gradually confirming all of the expectations she had of him, “We know what it means. We’re actually both Hispanic.”

He laughs harder, “No fucking way, I thought you were black and she was… like white-ish Arab or something.”

“Well next time cover your bases before making jokes like that…bitch,” she added that last part as a tie in to what he’d said, so as not to seem too offended. After all she wasn’t offended, she was far too attracted to him to feel offense. It was a fact that bothered her. Though, she rationalized to herself, everything he’s said so far has been pretty benign. He’s a harmless product of his environment. Thus, fucking him wouldn’t make me a hypocrite at all. Au contraire, it would show that I’m open minded.

When they finally were ready to leave, her eyes were glued to Scott as he heaved himself up from his two bar stools. His belly accidentally smashes against the table pushing it a few inches. The table loudly scrapes against the smooth gray flooring and the few people still there all turn to look at him. For a moment embarrassment registers across his face, but he quickly collects himself and moves the table back as softly as possible. Mia expects him to say some lame self-deprecating joke, but he says nothing.

“You ready to go?” he asked Ben as he walked over from behind the table, allowing Mia to see his full body in all its glory.

Standing up, he looks enormous. He appears to be about 6’3, so a little more than a foot taller than her. The fabric of his shirt is stretched over him as far as possible to cover his broad mid-section. His belly bulges out at least a foot in front of him. His arms are positioned at a slight angle because he’s too large for them to fall straight down by his sides. His fat is fairly evenly distributed, every area of his body looks extremely well-padded.

He notices her looking him over. Automatically he crosses his arms in front of himself defensively. Instead of hiding his body, this only causes her to pay attention to how difficult all the excess fat makes it for him to be able to even get his arms across himself. He looks puffed up and uncomfortable in that position. Under her continued gaze, his face again reddened slightly. At that point she looked away, feeling slightly guilty for making him most likely feel like she was judging him.

This display of vulnerability, again makes her wish she had the chance to dominate him sexually. The fact that a simple eye movement of hers has the power to make him this uncomfortable gives her a slight power trip. At that point she knew, she didn’t care about who he was as a person. She had to have sex with him at least once. She needed to.

While Ben was getting Katie’s number, she sauntered over to Scott.

“So…what’s your number?” she asked awkwardly.

He looked entirely caught off guard, “Why do you want that?”

She scratched her head losing her resolve, “Uhh… in case…I…ever want to buy shrooms… Cause you said you know a lot of people who sell good ones? And I uh…might want your expert opinion sometime maybe…?”

During the past hour he talked a lot about the drugs he liked the best, and she had mentioned her curiosity and lack of experience with hallucinogens so she figured this might be the most natural sounding excuse.

He shrugged, “Okay. I’ll put it in your phone.”

She places her phone in his hand, observing how thick and big his hand looked in comparison to her own. He fumbled with the unfamiliar device.

“Nice phone,” he mumbled sarcastically as he typed.

“Yeah I’m not part of the cult of Apple.”

He snickers handing it back to her, “So I’ll hear from you?”

Intrigued by the fact that he said that she tilts her head to the side with a smile, “You’ll definitely be hearing from me.”


mostly harmless
Sep 29, 2005
The great white north, eh?
I love that opening line! The rest of scene one is pretty sweet too, of course, but you had me hooked with that first sentence :)

Oh, and I slapped on our standard formatting. (not a big deal)


Library Girl
Staff member
Library Mod
Jun 21, 2008
Interesting start. Looking forward to reading more.


Well-Known Member
Aug 12, 2014
Scott pulled the 5XL light blue shirt over his upper body. The once standard fitted cotton polo was now skin tight. He tugged at the collar which was cutting into his neck, creating a thick roll that spilled out over the top of the collar. The bottom of the shirt could barely contain his massive belly. The cloth would gradually migrate back up every time he’d manage to pull it over it fully. The shirt was tight and restrictive around his back. He could barely move his arms. He glanced backwards in the mirror and could see that every back roll was perfectly imprinted through the stretched fabric. It squeezed his body, creating the illusion that his moobs were even rounder and fuller then they actually were.

He wasn’t sure when he had bought this shirt but he knew it had at least been after he’d graduated. Facing the mirror he groaned. How could I possibly have gotten bigger? Since finishing college, or really since April of senior year when he officially found he had been rejected from all five law schools he’d applied to, his weight had sky-rocketed. It had been almost a year since then and at this point he had no idea how much it was. As he’d always been big, he bought a scale that went up to four hundred pounds online years ago, when had first crossed over three hundred (the maximum of most standard scales). So based on that, he knew he had passed four hundred nearly a year ago so it bothered him that now he couldn’t even fit in a shirt he’d bought around that time.

Being slightly over three hundred pounds had been mostly awesome. He had been that size throughout much of high school and the beginning of college. At parties his college freshman year, girls would automatically assume he was a football player, a lineman. It made sense. Lineman were generally the only guys as big as him that acted as loud and over-confident as he usually did back then. He’d go along with it, as it seemed most sorority girls really wanted to fuck football players. Even when that didn’t happen, he was able to attract girls pretty easily.

All of that stopped once he passed three-fifty. No one was attracted to him. Not even any of the girls from before. People stopped wondering if he played football, and started wondering how it was possible for someone to let themselves get that big at such a young age. At least that’s what it felt like people were wondering. Junior year was really the first time he felt that his size actually limited him.

Actually no that’s not true, he thought. In high school it had posed a slight limitation, he was the largest person in his small pretentious school and that occasionally bothered him. Some girls did seem grossed out by his size and people would make comments about it every so often. But fortunately for him he had money, social skills, his family name, and cool friends which all combined fully distracted people from focusing on his size. His dad was a corporate lawyer and his mom a successful photographer for a travel magazine. They had once donated a ton of money to the school, enough to renovate one of the buildings which now carried their last name. His older sister Becca was among the most popular girls at their school. So needless to say, simply being part of the Pafford family gave him a lot of social mileage back then. This of course, wasn’t the case in the broader world of college. Hence part of why junior year of college was his introduction to feeling like a freak.

He got through it by actually focusing on his studies for the first time ever, and lying to his frat brothers about his shitty sex life. Even with those last two years of celibacy and hard work, he hadn’t made it into law school. Those years probably fucked him over more so than they did any good, because they caused him to get idealistic about his chances and apply exclusively to really good programs instead of a spectrum. This in turn, was the final push that sent him into the state of misery that caused him to gain fifty pounds in six months. And then some.

He pulled the shirt over his flab a third time and held it down then let go. It rose up a second later. He grunted in annoyance and sat on his bed. The movement in his shoulders from an upright standing position to slouched stretched the fabric even more around his upper back. It made a tearing sound. Shit, he peered over his shoulder. The rip was small but noticeable. He took off the shirt and threw it on the ground. After putting on the same shirt he wore yesterday, which he at least knew covered him all the way though it was still pretty tight, he opened his door and walked outside.

He lumbered down the stairs outside of his apartment complex. It was Monday so he had to go to work. Technically he had been honest when he told those girls Saturday night at Taco Land that he worked at a law firm. He distorted the fact that it was a law firm owned by his Dad’s good friend who had pretty much just handed him the job to make that sound like it was a good thing. And he’d completely hidden the fact that he was basically just a glorified secretary there. He was only doing it to pass the time while he searched for a real job.

Her room was hazy with marijuana smoke. The ground was cluttered with clothes, pencils, and sketches. The sky outside was pitch black. The combination of dim lighting and red curtains made the room seem warmer than it felt.

In the background played the song form the diner scene on Pulp Fiction, a mid tempo instrumental piece with bright guitar chords and a bluesy walking bass line. She was dancing shirtless. Hips swaying to the beat, her hair alternating between covering her chest and exposing it as she moved. Scott was there in her bedroom tied to a chair he was too big for, his flesh overflowing over the armrests. Black ropes were wrapped around him, one set under his belly and the other across his vast chest. His arms were handcuffed behind him.

She made her way over to him, sat on the small area of his lap that wasn’t covered by his belly, and began stripping his clothes off. The back of the chair was positioned directly against her bed. Once he was naked she climbed on the bed towards him and pulled his face backwards so it was resting on the mattress. He looked up at her with a crooked smile.

She kissed him upside down like Spiderman before moving further along his body exploring him with her hands and mouth. By the time her face was at the middle of his belly, her crotch was over his face. She sank her hands and face deep into his flesh as he began to go down on her.


The door slammed shut as Mia’s roommate Chao left the apartment. The walls were so thin, he always woke her up when he left around eight every weekday.

She slowly opened her eyes, finding herself alone in the same room she’d been dreaming about. Damn. Her curls piled into a loose ponytail at the top of her head flopped into her face as she sat up. She hated when her dreams were better than her reality.

The sun poured in through her blinds. It was Monday, but she didn’t have anywhere to be til around eleven. Lying back into her bed she grabbed her phone and went on facebook. She wanted to shove her brain back into her dream, and figured the closest thing to that would be to creep on his facebook page. She didn’t know his last name, but figured she could find him based on what little information he’d given her.

She knew he had gone to UC Davis, she knew he was a Phi Gamma Iota, and she knew, like her, he had graduated last year. After finding the facebook page of his fraternity, she began to look through event pictures to find him. Surely enough after looking through a couple rows of images, there he was. Dressed up in formal clothes with his mouth open in a frozen mid-laugh, he was standing in a fancy room with a group of generic basic looking people. She kept clicking through the pictures of this event, whatever it was. He stood out in these pictures featuring crowds of thin people, because he took up so much room. Like a whale moving through a swarm of krill…Actually maybe I should think of a less potentially offensive analogy. Hmm…Like the only normal flower in a bouquet made up solely of baby’s breath. Then she chuckled a little at the ridiculousness of her own thoughts.

According to the tags on the pictures, his full name was Scott Pafford. Biting her lip, she clicked on his profile. Her eyes darted around across the screen, not sure where to focus. She noticed it said he’d been tagged in 1,112 pictures. Her eyes widened and a slow smile spread across her face. Eleven hundred and twelve pictures of this dude? Aw shit! It was like she’d hit the masturbation fodder jackpot!

As she went through the photos a myriad of emotions passed through her. First she was horny, as was to be expected. Then gradually she felt a little jealous of his active social life. He was everywhere it seemed. She clicked through images of him at bonfire parties, to average college beer-pong type parties, to neon colored raves, even a couple of yacht parties as he’d mentioned. She thought back to her own social life. Most nights she spent at home by herself watching Netflix, working on some project, or on her Xbox. She only partied like once every three months perhaps? Probably less than that. Only when Katie, her only friend who was into that scene, invited her to something.

Grimacing she continued perusing through Scott’s page. The further she got into the past, the more fun his life seemed to look. There he was in a tux with a gorgeous red haired girl under his arm. There he was on at a football game with a ton of other pumped up people their face painted blue and yellow. There he was at what looked like a rooftop party.

Yeah he’s way out of your league. Way way way out of your league. You’re delusional for even considering calling him. Compulsively clicking through, she began to experience feelings of anger. Anger at herself being lame and desperate enough to have a wet dream about a guy she had no chance with. Preemptive rage at him for rejecting her. She was aware that hadn’t actually happened yet, but it didn’t matter. It was inevitable. Inevitable if she decided to ask him out anyway. She had made up her mind earlier that she’d call him Wednesday, but now she wasn’t sure.
She closed her laptop realizing it was getting close to be time to leave. Angrily she yanked off the t-shirt she’d slept in and threw on another equally crushed shirt.

She was a web designer/ freelance illustrator/ comic book writer/ starving artist. Right now she had several projects going. She was making brochures for a local not-for-profit organization, making a comic about a sex addicted zombie girl (who rapes, kills, and eats men then gets angsty about it) with some rando who found her website and liked it, and she had a part time gig doing web design which was where she was now about to go.

As she drove to work, it hit her. Duh, after what you said to him that night even if you do call him he won’t have the chance to reject you. Because he’ll think you’re calling about finding someone to buy shrooms from. She shook her head internally laughing at herself. She was worried for nothing, she had a built in excuse for calling him that left her with the ability to duck out if it ever became clear that ducking out was necessary.

There was only one problem left, she realized as she imagined the hypothetical phone call. If he believed that she was calling him for that very singular purpose, then they would have no reason to meet up thus putting her back in the initial situation of having to ask him out. She needed an excuse. An excuse to ask him to not only find shrooms for her but to do them with her. A concert maybe? She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. Could she make that sound casual enough?

Heyyyy fellow taco enjoyer. We met a couple nights ago, hope you remember. Actually guess you knew that already, as I began my greeting with a reference to the night we met ha. Anyways there’s this concert coming up and I think a concert totally sounds like the optimal environment for using some of those hallucinogens we discussed. Where can I get some? And by the way wanna come with?

She shuddered. What she needed, was a way to ask him to hang out with her in the most subtle and accidental looking way possible. It had to appear to have fallen into her lap. Maybe she could lie that she won some concert tickets and had no one to go with because it was so last minute everyone had plans? No that’s terrible.

Maybe she could keep it simple and straightforward? Call him up like “Hey I like your vibe let’s do something.” But then again, she didn’t particularly like his vibe. In fact she kinda disliked his vibe, she simply thought he was hot.

Yeah why are you over-thinking this at all? She thought to herself. It’s not like you want to date the guy. You just want to sleep with him. And there’s no way he’s going to straight up reject you for that right?

She nodded, gaining some conviction with this new train of thought. Yes! I should just do what a guy would do in this situation. Fuck all these mind games, I should just text him at two AM like “Yo you dtf?” and let it roll from there.

She rubbed her fingers against her scalp. Then again, he might just think you’re mocking him if you do that. Take it down a notch. Based on her experiences with being hit on, what would generally be considered down a notch from a late night booty call text was an afternoon “What are you doing tonight” phone call.

So that’s what I’ll do. Right after work. That’s what’s happening.


the bitchy one
Nov 26, 2010
I really like this story! It's so different then the others and i love her little sex dream 😁 btw it's good to know that I'm not the only person who thinks Facebook is basically a big book of masturbation lol
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