Uncle Jack
Well-Known Member
- A man meets up with his classmate a few years - and a few pounds - after high school.
[Author's Note: Something I started writing a few years ago that had been left for dead on my hard drive. Just rediscovered it now. Never finished it. Maybe I will or maybe one of you fine folks could take a crack at it, should you feel so inclined.]
When I ran into Celeste for the first time in four years, hunkered over a poutine. For the uninitiated, poutine is a “dish” - fries smothered in gravy and cheese curd. Not exactly health food. Of course, Celeste didn’t seem to mind that.
We had gone to high school together, not quite friends, not quite not-friends. She was in a couple of my classes. A knockout, or at least I thought so. She was always a bit of a chubby… okay, a little more than a bit, more like… well, a lot more than a bit. I guess she was fat. Well, I don’t guess, I know.
Celeste was fat.
But she wore it so well! I mean, I love fat girls, I really do, to the point where I can’t grasp how someone couldn’t love a chubby babe. I guess this is how most straight guys feel about thin women, gay guys feel about women in general and foot fetishists feel about leg amputees.
I’m getting off-track here, I should be describing what a vision Celeste was, not cracking tasteless jokes. Because I loved fat girls as a rule, but Celeste was a model fat girl. Thick red hair, porcelain skin, gleaming pearly whites. I suppose those things wouldn’t have changed if she had lost some weight. But damn, these things are important. In a world where fat is too often equated with ugly, it’s important to remember certain basic traits that are just attractive, regardless of someone’s weight. And she was so personable, everyone loved her; she had the greatest laugh, she’d guffaw and slap her knees, her body jiggling ever so slightly…
Where was I? Yes. Right, I suppose I really ought to describe her “fat” attributes. You know what I mean. Her soft face, with the slightest double chin when she looked downward. Giant breasts, D’s, maybe DD’s, that strained at her shirts, and swelled when she breathed in. Maybe giant isn’t the right word, but in my high school, I’ll be damned if there was a better pair. The greatest belly, which would swish and sway with her footsteps, and hung out just slightly from the bottom of her shirts, just slightly, not even an inch, but just enough to tantalize me. She wasn’t bursting out of her clothes (usually), she dressed well for her size and didn’t fluctuate in her weight (usually), so it wasn’t like you’d see her belly button, or, or…
Well, she wore form-fitting clothes normally, and she happened to have a larger form. In one class, Biology 11, I sat right behind her and when she would lean back in her chair to stretch, rolls would form on her back, around her bra particularly. How I always wanted to reach out and squeeze those sexy little fat rolls! I found Biology much harder to concentrate on that year, for whatever reason…
And her ass, her ass was amazing. I was skipping class once, hanging outside having a smoke (and if you never did, you truly didn’t appreciate high school for what it was… pointless) and gym class happened to be in. And Celeste… wow. Just thinking about it… In Grade 11, gym class was mandatory, a provincially mandated fitness thing. Celeste certainly wasn’t the “gym” type, but in Grade 11, she couldn’t get out of a class that was really just a glorified daycare playtime hour. The girls were forced to run the track this day I was outside, having a smoke, or two, or three, and Celeste was lagging behind. But damn if she wasn’t trying! And watching her ass undulate and wobble in those tight blue soccer shorts… To this day, it still makes my heart skip a beat. She was sweaty and panting, breasts heaving, up, down, up, down, hips going side to side, side to side… She stopped at one point and had to walk, she just couldn’t run this one little lap, she was just too big, and eventually stopped even walking she was breathing so hard. She bent over with her hands on her knees to get her wind back, and her ass was pointed right in my direction. Looking at the luscious frame made by her hips, and the juicy succulence of her fat ass made me have to get out of there fast, or there was no telling what I would do. I know, I know, I’m a rambler, I always have been; everyone always says I’m long-winded. So I’m gonna just give you some facts here, so as to get back to the present day just that much quicker.
Height: About 5’6”
Weight: Gosh, couldn’t really say… but once, in Biology 11, she wore a dress (polka-dot, like an overweight 50s doo-wop singer) with a tag sticking out saying 20… so maybe 180, 200 lbs.?
Measurements: Hmm… a guess here, but something like 40-38-44? Celeste was what you’d call thick, not a total hourglass, but her belly didn’t just out. She just had an abundance about her…
Favorite Food: Hamburgers… trust me.
Smell: She smelled like an orchard.
And when I ran into her after a four-year absence, she still did smell like an orchard. She was wearing tight hip-huggers and a striped blouse. Her hair was shorter now, about neck length, and she seemed a little bigger than I remembered, but that may have just been wishful thinking.
She was plowing through those fries like they were the last ones on Earth. I almost bolted out the pizzeria door as soon as I saw her. I was scared! You have to understand, this was my head cheerleader, my fantasy prom date, the girl who ushered into puberty and out of puberty, the woman who has forever shaped my idea of the perfect woman.
So yeah, I was a little shaken.
But, before I could do much, she spotted me. One of those looks of confused remembrance passed her face, do I know you? no I don’t? wait, maybe I do…
“Jerry!”
“Uh, hey, Celeste, hey, how’s it going?”
“Not bad. You?”
“Uh, you know, I’m good, alright, no complaints, how you been?”
“Not bad.” She smiled. Those teeth.
“Heh, right, right. Sorry about that.”
“Come, sit, let’s talk, it’s been so long.”
It was a second before I spoke, but it may as well have been an eternity. Damn, that sounds really hackneyed. I’ll have to fix that in editing.
“Sure.”
I sat down across from her and saw that she had a gob of gravy on her right cheek. She raised a forkful of the fattening goo toward her face.
“So,” she said, then biting down on the fork, “what’s new?” With her mouth full.
Let me tell you something about Celeste that I haven’t mentioned yet. She was… well, my favorite favorite favorite favorite favorite quality about Celeste was her gluttony. I watched her eat all throughout high school. If that sounds creepy, the only apology that I can offer up is I was a teenage boy for chrissake. Once, I happened to be at Wendy’s while she plowed through a double burger combo, super sized, with a frosty to follow it up. I saw her eat a whole box of Oreos during a free period in Grade 12. I worked at an ice cream stand the summer before Grade 12 and she came by quite often, as she lived just around the block. Her record? Six cones in one day.
I could go on and on, but the point is, she relished food. The fact that she wasn’t an outright blimp must have been accounted for by some insane teenage metabolism. Sometimes she got some weird looks from people, but she was such a funny, extroverted person that no one ever said anything about it. The only person who would make comments would be Celeste herself.
“I’m exhausted, Ms. Henderson made us play dodgeball in gym today. What I need is a bottle of water and a big bag of chips.”
“Look over there! (yoink! Chomp chomp chomp) I didn’t steal your sandwich, I’m just insuring it against future theft.”
“This yogurt is half the fat! Guess that means I can eat twice as much!”
“M&M’s are the ultimate comfort food. (Gulp gulp gulp… beeeelch) And Pepsi is the ultimate comfort drink.”
One time, no fooling, in Math 10 after downing some chili she had brought in from home for lunch, she let rip a rather loud fart. Everyone giggled and looked at her. But instead of this being the “fat-girl-farted” humiliation, Celeste slyly said, “Sorry, I’ll make sure to put a silencer on that next time.”
Everyone laughed. I gaped. Celeste smiled. Those teeth. She could diffuse any awkward situation, and make it cute and charming.
“Sorry?”
She swallowed her mighty mouthful, so that she could speak clearly. “And so now that I’ve got my degree, I’m just sort of bumming around the city, staying with my aunt, trying to figure out what to do with myself. People aren’t exactly banging down the doors of Art History graduates.”
“Yeah, well, anything’s better than moving back home.”
“With the parents? Yeah right!”
I chuckled. “Yeah, exactly.”
Celeste went back to dutifully consuming her large poutine. I just sat there and viewed the whole scenario as if it was some wonderfully lucid dream, or a play in which I was both actor and audience. We must have sat like that for a little while, because the next thing I knew, Celeste was leaning back, fork in her empty Styrofoam dish.
“Good stuff?”
“You know it. These guys have the best poutine. Pizza is only second best.”
“You got some…”
“Oh, where?”
“Side of your mouth.”
She stuck her tongue out and sensuously got the last cheesy morsel into her mouth.
“I got it, right?”
“Actually, I meant the other side.” I didn’t really. I just wanted to see her do that again.
We sat for awhile, chit-chatting. Celeste didn’t particularly like living with her pushy, older aunt. She was just sticking there because it was currently easier than finding a place of her own. I had just finished my degree in Physics, and had my own place uptown. I was putting off pursuing my Master’s for awhile, just so I could do some grunt work. It may not sound glamorous, but I had been going to school my whole life, and was pretty excited about working my nine-to-five with a construction company. I told Celeste she should visit sometime and she suggested that we do so tonight.
“Unless… unless you have to get up early for work?”
“No, no, not at all.” I did actually. “Do you?”
“No, I don’t have a job right now.”
“Great.”
I started to get up when Celeste stopped me.
“Hey wait, don’t you want something to eat?”
“Huh? No.”
“Then why did you come here?”
Why did I come here? Oh right, I was hungry. “Well, I was a little hungry. More peckish than hungry really. Just wanted a snack. Now though, oh yeah, now I’m pretty hungry.”
She smiled at me. Oh man, she thinks I’m an idiot.
“Alright, but can we go somewhere else to eat?”
“Oh, sure, um…” Is this turning into a date? The hell is she doing here? “Where would you like to go?”
“Well, this place has the second best pizza, so let’s go where they have the best best.”
“The best best it is.”
With that, Celeste got up. She grunted as she placed her hands on the table and put her body into motion. Her belly was jutting out a little, going in and out with her breathing. She walked out ahead of me and I watched her amazing ass swish back and forth. Those hip-huggers were skin tight and the top of her butt crack poked above the waist. I was sure that she was bigger than she used to be, if only just slightly.
I walked over to my old clunker. “Did you bring a car?”
“No, my aunt doesn’t have one, I had to walk.” She said the word “walk” with complete disdain.
“Well, hop on in then!”
I opened up her passenger door with an exaggerated flourish, so I could be chivalric while also mocking chivalry. A good trick, if I say so.
“Why thank’ee, milord.” She tittered and hauled her ass into the car. It stuck out a couple inches in front of my face. Whoa.
Driving down the road, we were talking about our favorite music when suddenly Celeste grew quiet.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
She hiccupped.
“No, I (hic) think… I (hic) just ate… (hic hic) too fast.”
“Ah, the hiccups.”
“Yeah, I (hic) get them (hic) quite a (hic) bit.”
I bet you do. “Well, just hold your breath and count to ten. Time-tested trick.”
“Right (hic) here goes.”
She inhaled a large breath. I couldn’t focus on the road with the way her already bloated belly surged forward with the sharp intake, straining the bottom buttons on her shirt. Looking at her face, I could read her thoughts. One banana, two banana, three banana… On ten banana, she let out a massive belch that shook the dashboard.
“Holy wow! Well that feels better!”
“It would have to.”
“Yeah, excuse me.”
Ten minutes later, and a couple more burps, we arrived at Salazar’s, the numero uno pizza place in town. As soon as the car stopped Celeste flew out the door and quickly waddled her way into the restaurant. When I got in there, she was already at the counter placing her order.
“…make it with pepperoni, sausage, onion annnnnd… bacon!”
“That’s a meaty pizza.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling the meat,” she said with a flirty giggle.
We stood at the counter talking, waiting for the food, and I took a moment to admire her some more.
[Author's Note: Something I started writing a few years ago that had been left for dead on my hard drive. Just rediscovered it now. Never finished it. Maybe I will or maybe one of you fine folks could take a crack at it, should you feel so inclined.]
CELESTE
by Uncle Jack
by Uncle Jack
When I ran into Celeste for the first time in four years, hunkered over a poutine. For the uninitiated, poutine is a “dish” - fries smothered in gravy and cheese curd. Not exactly health food. Of course, Celeste didn’t seem to mind that.
We had gone to high school together, not quite friends, not quite not-friends. She was in a couple of my classes. A knockout, or at least I thought so. She was always a bit of a chubby… okay, a little more than a bit, more like… well, a lot more than a bit. I guess she was fat. Well, I don’t guess, I know.
Celeste was fat.
But she wore it so well! I mean, I love fat girls, I really do, to the point where I can’t grasp how someone couldn’t love a chubby babe. I guess this is how most straight guys feel about thin women, gay guys feel about women in general and foot fetishists feel about leg amputees.
I’m getting off-track here, I should be describing what a vision Celeste was, not cracking tasteless jokes. Because I loved fat girls as a rule, but Celeste was a model fat girl. Thick red hair, porcelain skin, gleaming pearly whites. I suppose those things wouldn’t have changed if she had lost some weight. But damn, these things are important. In a world where fat is too often equated with ugly, it’s important to remember certain basic traits that are just attractive, regardless of someone’s weight. And she was so personable, everyone loved her; she had the greatest laugh, she’d guffaw and slap her knees, her body jiggling ever so slightly…
Where was I? Yes. Right, I suppose I really ought to describe her “fat” attributes. You know what I mean. Her soft face, with the slightest double chin when she looked downward. Giant breasts, D’s, maybe DD’s, that strained at her shirts, and swelled when she breathed in. Maybe giant isn’t the right word, but in my high school, I’ll be damned if there was a better pair. The greatest belly, which would swish and sway with her footsteps, and hung out just slightly from the bottom of her shirts, just slightly, not even an inch, but just enough to tantalize me. She wasn’t bursting out of her clothes (usually), she dressed well for her size and didn’t fluctuate in her weight (usually), so it wasn’t like you’d see her belly button, or, or…
Well, she wore form-fitting clothes normally, and she happened to have a larger form. In one class, Biology 11, I sat right behind her and when she would lean back in her chair to stretch, rolls would form on her back, around her bra particularly. How I always wanted to reach out and squeeze those sexy little fat rolls! I found Biology much harder to concentrate on that year, for whatever reason…
And her ass, her ass was amazing. I was skipping class once, hanging outside having a smoke (and if you never did, you truly didn’t appreciate high school for what it was… pointless) and gym class happened to be in. And Celeste… wow. Just thinking about it… In Grade 11, gym class was mandatory, a provincially mandated fitness thing. Celeste certainly wasn’t the “gym” type, but in Grade 11, she couldn’t get out of a class that was really just a glorified daycare playtime hour. The girls were forced to run the track this day I was outside, having a smoke, or two, or three, and Celeste was lagging behind. But damn if she wasn’t trying! And watching her ass undulate and wobble in those tight blue soccer shorts… To this day, it still makes my heart skip a beat. She was sweaty and panting, breasts heaving, up, down, up, down, hips going side to side, side to side… She stopped at one point and had to walk, she just couldn’t run this one little lap, she was just too big, and eventually stopped even walking she was breathing so hard. She bent over with her hands on her knees to get her wind back, and her ass was pointed right in my direction. Looking at the luscious frame made by her hips, and the juicy succulence of her fat ass made me have to get out of there fast, or there was no telling what I would do. I know, I know, I’m a rambler, I always have been; everyone always says I’m long-winded. So I’m gonna just give you some facts here, so as to get back to the present day just that much quicker.
Height: About 5’6”
Weight: Gosh, couldn’t really say… but once, in Biology 11, she wore a dress (polka-dot, like an overweight 50s doo-wop singer) with a tag sticking out saying 20… so maybe 180, 200 lbs.?
Measurements: Hmm… a guess here, but something like 40-38-44? Celeste was what you’d call thick, not a total hourglass, but her belly didn’t just out. She just had an abundance about her…
Favorite Food: Hamburgers… trust me.
Smell: She smelled like an orchard.
And when I ran into her after a four-year absence, she still did smell like an orchard. She was wearing tight hip-huggers and a striped blouse. Her hair was shorter now, about neck length, and she seemed a little bigger than I remembered, but that may have just been wishful thinking.
She was plowing through those fries like they were the last ones on Earth. I almost bolted out the pizzeria door as soon as I saw her. I was scared! You have to understand, this was my head cheerleader, my fantasy prom date, the girl who ushered into puberty and out of puberty, the woman who has forever shaped my idea of the perfect woman.
So yeah, I was a little shaken.
But, before I could do much, she spotted me. One of those looks of confused remembrance passed her face, do I know you? no I don’t? wait, maybe I do…
“Jerry!”
“Uh, hey, Celeste, hey, how’s it going?”
“Not bad. You?”
“Uh, you know, I’m good, alright, no complaints, how you been?”
“Not bad.” She smiled. Those teeth.
“Heh, right, right. Sorry about that.”
“Come, sit, let’s talk, it’s been so long.”
It was a second before I spoke, but it may as well have been an eternity. Damn, that sounds really hackneyed. I’ll have to fix that in editing.
“Sure.”
I sat down across from her and saw that she had a gob of gravy on her right cheek. She raised a forkful of the fattening goo toward her face.
“So,” she said, then biting down on the fork, “what’s new?” With her mouth full.
Let me tell you something about Celeste that I haven’t mentioned yet. She was… well, my favorite favorite favorite favorite favorite quality about Celeste was her gluttony. I watched her eat all throughout high school. If that sounds creepy, the only apology that I can offer up is I was a teenage boy for chrissake. Once, I happened to be at Wendy’s while she plowed through a double burger combo, super sized, with a frosty to follow it up. I saw her eat a whole box of Oreos during a free period in Grade 12. I worked at an ice cream stand the summer before Grade 12 and she came by quite often, as she lived just around the block. Her record? Six cones in one day.
I could go on and on, but the point is, she relished food. The fact that she wasn’t an outright blimp must have been accounted for by some insane teenage metabolism. Sometimes she got some weird looks from people, but she was such a funny, extroverted person that no one ever said anything about it. The only person who would make comments would be Celeste herself.
“I’m exhausted, Ms. Henderson made us play dodgeball in gym today. What I need is a bottle of water and a big bag of chips.”
“Look over there! (yoink! Chomp chomp chomp) I didn’t steal your sandwich, I’m just insuring it against future theft.”
“This yogurt is half the fat! Guess that means I can eat twice as much!”
“M&M’s are the ultimate comfort food. (Gulp gulp gulp… beeeelch) And Pepsi is the ultimate comfort drink.”
One time, no fooling, in Math 10 after downing some chili she had brought in from home for lunch, she let rip a rather loud fart. Everyone giggled and looked at her. But instead of this being the “fat-girl-farted” humiliation, Celeste slyly said, “Sorry, I’ll make sure to put a silencer on that next time.”
Everyone laughed. I gaped. Celeste smiled. Those teeth. She could diffuse any awkward situation, and make it cute and charming.
“Sorry?”
She swallowed her mighty mouthful, so that she could speak clearly. “And so now that I’ve got my degree, I’m just sort of bumming around the city, staying with my aunt, trying to figure out what to do with myself. People aren’t exactly banging down the doors of Art History graduates.”
“Yeah, well, anything’s better than moving back home.”
“With the parents? Yeah right!”
I chuckled. “Yeah, exactly.”
Celeste went back to dutifully consuming her large poutine. I just sat there and viewed the whole scenario as if it was some wonderfully lucid dream, or a play in which I was both actor and audience. We must have sat like that for a little while, because the next thing I knew, Celeste was leaning back, fork in her empty Styrofoam dish.
“Good stuff?”
“You know it. These guys have the best poutine. Pizza is only second best.”
“You got some…”
“Oh, where?”
“Side of your mouth.”
She stuck her tongue out and sensuously got the last cheesy morsel into her mouth.
“I got it, right?”
“Actually, I meant the other side.” I didn’t really. I just wanted to see her do that again.
We sat for awhile, chit-chatting. Celeste didn’t particularly like living with her pushy, older aunt. She was just sticking there because it was currently easier than finding a place of her own. I had just finished my degree in Physics, and had my own place uptown. I was putting off pursuing my Master’s for awhile, just so I could do some grunt work. It may not sound glamorous, but I had been going to school my whole life, and was pretty excited about working my nine-to-five with a construction company. I told Celeste she should visit sometime and she suggested that we do so tonight.
“Unless… unless you have to get up early for work?”
“No, no, not at all.” I did actually. “Do you?”
“No, I don’t have a job right now.”
“Great.”
I started to get up when Celeste stopped me.
“Hey wait, don’t you want something to eat?”
“Huh? No.”
“Then why did you come here?”
Why did I come here? Oh right, I was hungry. “Well, I was a little hungry. More peckish than hungry really. Just wanted a snack. Now though, oh yeah, now I’m pretty hungry.”
She smiled at me. Oh man, she thinks I’m an idiot.
“Alright, but can we go somewhere else to eat?”
“Oh, sure, um…” Is this turning into a date? The hell is she doing here? “Where would you like to go?”
“Well, this place has the second best pizza, so let’s go where they have the best best.”
“The best best it is.”
With that, Celeste got up. She grunted as she placed her hands on the table and put her body into motion. Her belly was jutting out a little, going in and out with her breathing. She walked out ahead of me and I watched her amazing ass swish back and forth. Those hip-huggers were skin tight and the top of her butt crack poked above the waist. I was sure that she was bigger than she used to be, if only just slightly.
I walked over to my old clunker. “Did you bring a car?”
“No, my aunt doesn’t have one, I had to walk.” She said the word “walk” with complete disdain.
“Well, hop on in then!”
I opened up her passenger door with an exaggerated flourish, so I could be chivalric while also mocking chivalry. A good trick, if I say so.
“Why thank’ee, milord.” She tittered and hauled her ass into the car. It stuck out a couple inches in front of my face. Whoa.
Driving down the road, we were talking about our favorite music when suddenly Celeste grew quiet.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
She hiccupped.
“No, I (hic) think… I (hic) just ate… (hic hic) too fast.”
“Ah, the hiccups.”
“Yeah, I (hic) get them (hic) quite a (hic) bit.”
I bet you do. “Well, just hold your breath and count to ten. Time-tested trick.”
“Right (hic) here goes.”
She inhaled a large breath. I couldn’t focus on the road with the way her already bloated belly surged forward with the sharp intake, straining the bottom buttons on her shirt. Looking at her face, I could read her thoughts. One banana, two banana, three banana… On ten banana, she let out a massive belch that shook the dashboard.
“Holy wow! Well that feels better!”
“It would have to.”
“Yeah, excuse me.”
Ten minutes later, and a couple more burps, we arrived at Salazar’s, the numero uno pizza place in town. As soon as the car stopped Celeste flew out the door and quickly waddled her way into the restaurant. When I got in there, she was already at the counter placing her order.
“…make it with pepperoni, sausage, onion annnnnd… bacon!”
“That’s a meaty pizza.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling the meat,” she said with a flirty giggle.
We stood at the counter talking, waiting for the food, and I took a moment to admire her some more.
