~XWG, SSBW, Erotica
Patrick Braker stares into his half finished pint glass and sighs heavily. Whats up with you? asks Mike, from the other side of the table. He looks up as the barmaid walks past and gives her a wink. She responds by rolling her eyes. He takes another swig of beer from his glass as Rebecca and Steve laugh and flirt with each other at the far end of the table. Patrick moves his glare towards the half empty cranberry juice positioned on the table in front of the empty seat next to his own.
Miranda, he sighed. Thats whats up. How could it have come to this? These were the words that swam through his mind two hours earlier. The glass of wine clinked against Mirandas glass of water.
Two years, heres to...more... she said quietly from across the restaurant table.
Patrick sipped on the wine. It was going to take more than one glass to make the evening manageable.
Wont you have some wine? he asked.
Miranda clasped a lithe-like hand against her small waist. Empty calories? I thought you knew me better than that, Patrick. She rolled her eyes. Patrick stared at her high cheekbones and gaunt face. How could it have come to this? He actually hated his girlfriend. Everything about her revolted him.
And what will you have, madame? asked the waiter, once Patrick had ordered.
The salad, please. No wait, what dish on your menu has the least fat content? Patrick passed a knowing look to the waiter.
That would be the salad, madam, replied the waiter. Would you like a dressing with that? Patrick raised an eyebrow.
Miranda huffed. No, no dressing. And make it small.
The rest of the dinner followed along these lines. Miranda spoke of new celebrity diets, how she had lost three pounds in the last two weeks, that her gym coach said she needed to watch what kind of water she drinks because some have hidden carbs in them, can you believe that! Every time Patrick tried to mention something of vague interest. He was shot down by his girlfriends obsession with dietary supplements.
It hadnt always been this way. When they had met, two years previous, Miranda had been a very different woman. At 23 years old she was a bubbly, lively, art student with a real talent for painting. Patrick had seen her work at a local exhibition and become transfixed by it. In her paintings he had seen something he felt an instant connection with.
He introduced himself and found a girl he believed to be truly beautiful on the inside and out. She had a golden smile that gave her dimples in her cheeks. Her brown, curly hair was wild and draped down past her shoulders. Her lips were full and at 57 and 135lbs, she had a body that curved in all the right places for Patrick.
But something was amiss, even in the early days. As talented as she was, Miranda worried about the future. She couldnt live on her paintings alone and even though Patrick was supportive, she decided that a job and a well paid one at that was how to support herself. She would still have time to paint in her spare time. It would still be what made her what she was.
She got a job at a fashion house, working her way through menial jobs until she arrived at the role of creative manager. The problem was that the job changed her. She gained new friends who were image and diet obsessed, which eventually made her those things too. She grew thinner, her dimples faded as did her smile. She became self obsessed, her ideals began to change. The paintings dried up and so had Patricks love for her.
After the first course, Patrick could feel the words balanced on his tongue. I think we should split up. He recited it over and over again as Miranda continued to talk about how the other girls at work were all out to get her job. Suddenly, his phone beeped. Mike was asking if they wanted to join him, Rebecca and Steve at the bar he lost his nerve.
He interrupted Miranda. Hey, I have an idea...
Forty minutes later he found himself staring at his girlfriends glass, telling his woes to Mike whilst Miranda visited the powder room.
Sorry, dude. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do, were Mikes great words of wisdom.
I just miss the fun we used to have, I miss the person she was.
Well, said Mike, eyeing the barmaid again. Plenty more fish in the sea?
Patrick scoffed. Thanks, Mike, youre a real help when my world is falling in. He stood up. I gotta go take a piss.
Patrick stared at his reflection in the mirror on the bathroom wall. He splashed some water on his face. He had to break up with her, he had no choice.
But you dont want to break up with her because you still feel, the real girl is underneath.
Patrick spun around as the sound of a toilet flushed and a grey haired man in a dark suit appeared from the cubicle behind him. Thats right , isnt it Patrick?
Patrick stood there dumbfounded. How the... I didnt say anything. How did you know I was thinking that?
The man smiled a devilish grin. His eyes sparkled. Oh, I know a lot of things, Patrick. I always have my ear to the ground.
Patrick was at a loss. Who the... how do you know who I am?
Just call me Cupid, replied the stranger. Or your fairy godfather if you like. Point is, Patrick, Im here to help.
Patrick felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Are you the devil?
The mysterious man chuckled, loudly. No, no. And this isnt one of those make a deal for your soul type things. Lets just say that someone, somewhere in the universe likes you. They like you enough to give you one wish. If you had one wish youd like to see come true, Patrick, what would it be?
O.K. replied Patrick, highly dubious of this strange meeting. Gonna just move towards the door and get the hell away from this guy.
No need to do that! said Cupid, calmly. There was something in his voice that soothed Patrick somehow.
Do what? asked Patrick.
What you were thinking. Stay here a few minutes. I can change your life. I can make you happy.
Patrick smiled. Look mister, Im not in to close encounters of the gentlemen kind, but Im flattered.
No, numbnuts! Im talking about making you and your girlfriend happy.
Me and Miranda? Patrick said, quietly.
I know everything there is to know about you, Patrick. Its part of what I do. I even know why you were first attracted to her.
Patrick laughed uncomfortably. What do you mean?
Come on, Patrick... your girlfriends artwork. You didnt see me, but I was watching you in the gallery that day.
Patrick felt cold. Who are you?
Cupid smiled again. I told you. And now you have a wish to make. Now dont go asking for wealth or fame, those kind of wishes... well, they are soul sellers. Lets talk about happiness. Lets talk about what made you happy that day in the gallery.
Patrick stammered, Miranda... Miranda did.
Oh? I thought it was the joy you saw in her paintings. More specifically, the joy you saw in the models in her paintings... those very large models.
Patrick was shell-shocked. This strange man in the toilets of his local bar knew his deepest secret. No one knew. How could this be?
Is that what you saw in Miranda back then? The potential to be as happy as the models she painted.
Patrick scoffed, unable to compose his thoughts into speech.
Is that a yes? asked Cupid.
Somewhere outside, thunder rumbled. Patrick seemed lost.
Patrick?
Yes?
Is that what you want?
He thought about how much he had once loved her. How he wanted it back. Yes he whispered.
Lightening struck close outside and Patrick turned his head to the window.
So be it, said Cupid.
Patrick turned his eyes back towards him, but all that he saw was the open cubicle door. He searched the toilets, but he was alone. He turned on the tap and washed his face again.
I must be going mad.
He exited the toilets, rejoining his friends. He sat down to hear them in fits of laughter.
Whats so funny? he asked.
Mike chuckled. And then the cowboy says... you sure dont look like my sister! Ahahahaha!
Rebecca and Steve doubled over in giggles. Thats the best joke ever, but you dont say it right.
Whats the joke? asked Patrick.
No, no, no, Steves right, replied Mike through watering eyes. She tells it way better.
Patrick looked at Rebecca waiting for her to retell the joke.
Well? asked Patrick.
Well, what? replied Rebecca. Shes your girlfriend, let her tell it.
Something was amiss. Miranda told a joke?
Did you hit your head on the sink in there? asked Mike. Shes been cracking jokes for the last two hours!
Something wasnt right. Patrick looked back to where Miranda had been sitting. Her glass had disappeared, replaced by a four pint jug of beer.
Who ordered the beer? he asked.
His three friends laughed.
Huh, chuckled Steve, I think he did hit his head.
Mike turned his head towards the toilets. Oh, giddup cowgirl! he bellowed across the bar.
Patrick turned his head, but couldnt see his girlfriend. A large woman waddled her way through the crowd and obscured his view of the restroom. As she passed, there was still no sight of Mir... he felt the bench underneath him creak and a hand touch him on his lower back.
This cannot be happening.
He turned around just as Miranda met his lips with a passionate kiss. Her large, soft jowly face pulled back. A mile-wide smile on her face showing off ample dimples and her well cushioned neck sent a warm feeling through Patrick. She was wearing an extra large checked shirt. The top four buttons were undone and her enlarged breasts heaved and bloomed from the garment. She giggled as he realized he was staring at them intensely. She brought up her burly arms that brushed against her cleavage and pushed her sausage-like fingers through his hair before using her very powerful forearms to pull his head into them. She shook her boobs playfully as the rest of the table burst into laughter once more.
I told you before, lover, if youre gonna stare, then you might as well get a real good look!
Patrick pulled his head away to notice the massive gut below her extensive bosom. It stretched her shirt to breaking point and bulged out from her denim jeans. They looked fit to burst.
Lost in confusion, Patrick felt himself smile. He felt something else too from inside his pants. The new Miranda noticed and let he hand slip from the table to stroke his crotch. Her sleeves were rolled up and Patrick noticed the creases in her pudgy wrists. Looking below her large and gorgeous belly, he also noticed her enormous, thunderous thighs. She was pouring out of every seam.
She lifted the jug of beer and began to chug it down. It was meant to distract the others from where her other hand was. It did the trick. Patrick sat in awe as his girlfriend groped him whilst downing four pints of beer. With every gulp her breasts stretched against her shirt, tightening it to breaking point before they would sag down and the wave of beer would ripple to her paunchy stomach and make that bulge too.
Curiosity got the better of him and Patrick reached out to feel Mirandas ass. He stirred as his hands found the vast roundness of a behind that belonged to a woman who must be at least 350lbs. As he tried to pinch it through the tightened denim, Miranda rubbed him harder. She groaned unexpectedly as she was finishing the jug. Everyone else took it as a sign of her struggling to finish, but Patrick knew otherwise.
She slammed the empty jug down on the table and after catching her breath, belched as loudly as a fog horn. Patricks friends cheered as she turned her lustful eyes towards him.
Dude! She is a keeper! yelled a rather drunken Mike.
Patrick kept his eyes fixed on her large body. He couldnt stop imagining all the layers and folds of soft, jiggling flesh that was just waiting to burst out of her clothes. She pulled him close and with her lips now enveloped in a newly softened face, and her thick double chin resting on her chest, she whispered, Just wait until I get you home.
(to be continued)
Cupids BIG Wish pt1
by Caleb F
by Caleb F
Patrick Braker stares into his half finished pint glass and sighs heavily. Whats up with you? asks Mike, from the other side of the table. He looks up as the barmaid walks past and gives her a wink. She responds by rolling her eyes. He takes another swig of beer from his glass as Rebecca and Steve laugh and flirt with each other at the far end of the table. Patrick moves his glare towards the half empty cranberry juice positioned on the table in front of the empty seat next to his own.
Miranda, he sighed. Thats whats up. How could it have come to this? These were the words that swam through his mind two hours earlier. The glass of wine clinked against Mirandas glass of water.
Two years, heres to...more... she said quietly from across the restaurant table.
Patrick sipped on the wine. It was going to take more than one glass to make the evening manageable.
Wont you have some wine? he asked.
Miranda clasped a lithe-like hand against her small waist. Empty calories? I thought you knew me better than that, Patrick. She rolled her eyes. Patrick stared at her high cheekbones and gaunt face. How could it have come to this? He actually hated his girlfriend. Everything about her revolted him.
And what will you have, madame? asked the waiter, once Patrick had ordered.
The salad, please. No wait, what dish on your menu has the least fat content? Patrick passed a knowing look to the waiter.
That would be the salad, madam, replied the waiter. Would you like a dressing with that? Patrick raised an eyebrow.
Miranda huffed. No, no dressing. And make it small.
The rest of the dinner followed along these lines. Miranda spoke of new celebrity diets, how she had lost three pounds in the last two weeks, that her gym coach said she needed to watch what kind of water she drinks because some have hidden carbs in them, can you believe that! Every time Patrick tried to mention something of vague interest. He was shot down by his girlfriends obsession with dietary supplements.
It hadnt always been this way. When they had met, two years previous, Miranda had been a very different woman. At 23 years old she was a bubbly, lively, art student with a real talent for painting. Patrick had seen her work at a local exhibition and become transfixed by it. In her paintings he had seen something he felt an instant connection with.
He introduced himself and found a girl he believed to be truly beautiful on the inside and out. She had a golden smile that gave her dimples in her cheeks. Her brown, curly hair was wild and draped down past her shoulders. Her lips were full and at 57 and 135lbs, she had a body that curved in all the right places for Patrick.
But something was amiss, even in the early days. As talented as she was, Miranda worried about the future. She couldnt live on her paintings alone and even though Patrick was supportive, she decided that a job and a well paid one at that was how to support herself. She would still have time to paint in her spare time. It would still be what made her what she was.
She got a job at a fashion house, working her way through menial jobs until she arrived at the role of creative manager. The problem was that the job changed her. She gained new friends who were image and diet obsessed, which eventually made her those things too. She grew thinner, her dimples faded as did her smile. She became self obsessed, her ideals began to change. The paintings dried up and so had Patricks love for her.
After the first course, Patrick could feel the words balanced on his tongue. I think we should split up. He recited it over and over again as Miranda continued to talk about how the other girls at work were all out to get her job. Suddenly, his phone beeped. Mike was asking if they wanted to join him, Rebecca and Steve at the bar he lost his nerve.
He interrupted Miranda. Hey, I have an idea...
Forty minutes later he found himself staring at his girlfriends glass, telling his woes to Mike whilst Miranda visited the powder room.
Sorry, dude. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do, were Mikes great words of wisdom.
I just miss the fun we used to have, I miss the person she was.
Well, said Mike, eyeing the barmaid again. Plenty more fish in the sea?
Patrick scoffed. Thanks, Mike, youre a real help when my world is falling in. He stood up. I gotta go take a piss.
Patrick stared at his reflection in the mirror on the bathroom wall. He splashed some water on his face. He had to break up with her, he had no choice.
But you dont want to break up with her because you still feel, the real girl is underneath.
Patrick spun around as the sound of a toilet flushed and a grey haired man in a dark suit appeared from the cubicle behind him. Thats right , isnt it Patrick?
Patrick stood there dumbfounded. How the... I didnt say anything. How did you know I was thinking that?
The man smiled a devilish grin. His eyes sparkled. Oh, I know a lot of things, Patrick. I always have my ear to the ground.
Patrick was at a loss. Who the... how do you know who I am?
Just call me Cupid, replied the stranger. Or your fairy godfather if you like. Point is, Patrick, Im here to help.
Patrick felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Are you the devil?
The mysterious man chuckled, loudly. No, no. And this isnt one of those make a deal for your soul type things. Lets just say that someone, somewhere in the universe likes you. They like you enough to give you one wish. If you had one wish youd like to see come true, Patrick, what would it be?
O.K. replied Patrick, highly dubious of this strange meeting. Gonna just move towards the door and get the hell away from this guy.
No need to do that! said Cupid, calmly. There was something in his voice that soothed Patrick somehow.
Do what? asked Patrick.
What you were thinking. Stay here a few minutes. I can change your life. I can make you happy.
Patrick smiled. Look mister, Im not in to close encounters of the gentlemen kind, but Im flattered.
No, numbnuts! Im talking about making you and your girlfriend happy.
Me and Miranda? Patrick said, quietly.
I know everything there is to know about you, Patrick. Its part of what I do. I even know why you were first attracted to her.
Patrick laughed uncomfortably. What do you mean?
Come on, Patrick... your girlfriends artwork. You didnt see me, but I was watching you in the gallery that day.
Patrick felt cold. Who are you?
Cupid smiled again. I told you. And now you have a wish to make. Now dont go asking for wealth or fame, those kind of wishes... well, they are soul sellers. Lets talk about happiness. Lets talk about what made you happy that day in the gallery.
Patrick stammered, Miranda... Miranda did.
Oh? I thought it was the joy you saw in her paintings. More specifically, the joy you saw in the models in her paintings... those very large models.
Patrick was shell-shocked. This strange man in the toilets of his local bar knew his deepest secret. No one knew. How could this be?
Is that what you saw in Miranda back then? The potential to be as happy as the models she painted.
Patrick scoffed, unable to compose his thoughts into speech.
Is that a yes? asked Cupid.
Somewhere outside, thunder rumbled. Patrick seemed lost.
Patrick?
Yes?
Is that what you want?
He thought about how much he had once loved her. How he wanted it back. Yes he whispered.
Lightening struck close outside and Patrick turned his head to the window.
So be it, said Cupid.
Patrick turned his eyes back towards him, but all that he saw was the open cubicle door. He searched the toilets, but he was alone. He turned on the tap and washed his face again.
I must be going mad.
He exited the toilets, rejoining his friends. He sat down to hear them in fits of laughter.
Whats so funny? he asked.
Mike chuckled. And then the cowboy says... you sure dont look like my sister! Ahahahaha!
Rebecca and Steve doubled over in giggles. Thats the best joke ever, but you dont say it right.
Whats the joke? asked Patrick.
No, no, no, Steves right, replied Mike through watering eyes. She tells it way better.
Patrick looked at Rebecca waiting for her to retell the joke.
Well? asked Patrick.
Well, what? replied Rebecca. Shes your girlfriend, let her tell it.
Something was amiss. Miranda told a joke?
Did you hit your head on the sink in there? asked Mike. Shes been cracking jokes for the last two hours!
Something wasnt right. Patrick looked back to where Miranda had been sitting. Her glass had disappeared, replaced by a four pint jug of beer.
Who ordered the beer? he asked.
His three friends laughed.
Huh, chuckled Steve, I think he did hit his head.
Mike turned his head towards the toilets. Oh, giddup cowgirl! he bellowed across the bar.
Patrick turned his head, but couldnt see his girlfriend. A large woman waddled her way through the crowd and obscured his view of the restroom. As she passed, there was still no sight of Mir... he felt the bench underneath him creak and a hand touch him on his lower back.
This cannot be happening.
He turned around just as Miranda met his lips with a passionate kiss. Her large, soft jowly face pulled back. A mile-wide smile on her face showing off ample dimples and her well cushioned neck sent a warm feeling through Patrick. She was wearing an extra large checked shirt. The top four buttons were undone and her enlarged breasts heaved and bloomed from the garment. She giggled as he realized he was staring at them intensely. She brought up her burly arms that brushed against her cleavage and pushed her sausage-like fingers through his hair before using her very powerful forearms to pull his head into them. She shook her boobs playfully as the rest of the table burst into laughter once more.
I told you before, lover, if youre gonna stare, then you might as well get a real good look!
Patrick pulled his head away to notice the massive gut below her extensive bosom. It stretched her shirt to breaking point and bulged out from her denim jeans. They looked fit to burst.
Lost in confusion, Patrick felt himself smile. He felt something else too from inside his pants. The new Miranda noticed and let he hand slip from the table to stroke his crotch. Her sleeves were rolled up and Patrick noticed the creases in her pudgy wrists. Looking below her large and gorgeous belly, he also noticed her enormous, thunderous thighs. She was pouring out of every seam.
She lifted the jug of beer and began to chug it down. It was meant to distract the others from where her other hand was. It did the trick. Patrick sat in awe as his girlfriend groped him whilst downing four pints of beer. With every gulp her breasts stretched against her shirt, tightening it to breaking point before they would sag down and the wave of beer would ripple to her paunchy stomach and make that bulge too.
Curiosity got the better of him and Patrick reached out to feel Mirandas ass. He stirred as his hands found the vast roundness of a behind that belonged to a woman who must be at least 350lbs. As he tried to pinch it through the tightened denim, Miranda rubbed him harder. She groaned unexpectedly as she was finishing the jug. Everyone else took it as a sign of her struggling to finish, but Patrick knew otherwise.
She slammed the empty jug down on the table and after catching her breath, belched as loudly as a fog horn. Patricks friends cheered as she turned her lustful eyes towards him.
Dude! She is a keeper! yelled a rather drunken Mike.
Patrick kept his eyes fixed on her large body. He couldnt stop imagining all the layers and folds of soft, jiggling flesh that was just waiting to burst out of her clothes. She pulled him close and with her lips now enveloped in a newly softened face, and her thick double chin resting on her chest, she whispered, Just wait until I get you home.
(to be continued)
