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Dani's 'diet'

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Well-Known Member
Nov 23, 2011
~BBW, eating, friendship, ~MWG - a chubster on a diet gets even more corpulent

Dani's "Diet"
by Cylon Bob

Went to the mall today. Saw Dani Taylor for the first time since graduation. More accurately, she saw me. Tackled me outside of JC Penney’s, actually.


It took me a second to recover from the impact. Dani is kind of a. . . Well, not to be insensitive, but let’s say she’s sort of a ‘larger’ girl, and leave it at that. That’s an understatement, really, Dani’s straight up fat. I’m thinking she was about 170, 180 pounds at graduation, which I know, doesn’t sound like a LOT, and on most girls it’s NOT, but Dani’s not a tall girl.

Calling her ‘not tall’ is still overstating her height a bit; Dani’s not even five foot; she’s ALMOST four ten. To make it even more obvious how fat those 180 pounds make her, she’d be overweight at 120.

Anyway, it was kind of a lot of weight to have slamming into your unsuspecting side. I saw it was her, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t know how to respond. I just kind of looked at her blankly for a few seconds before she punched me in the side, hard, like she always did. Then she grinned, “Stop staring at my tits!”

Just to be clear, I wasn’t staring at her tits; that’s just an old inside joke. When I say I wasn’t staring at her tits, I wasn’t FOCUSING IN on them. A girl her height, with tits her size, it’s almost impossible to have a conversation and NOT look at her cleavage. She laughed as I apologized, “Uh huh, yeah you weren’t lookin, I know you!”

Then she stepped back and did a twirl, “So?”

She looked up at me expectantly, “Whatcha think?”

I hesitated to say anything. She was obviously looking for compliments. But I wasn’t sure what specifically she was looking to be complimented ON. She didn’t LOOK much different from the last time I saw her, which was a good thing, I mean, Dani’s gotta be a 9, maybe a 9.5 in he FA department

The only thing different was maybe her proportions? She didn’t seem SMALLER, exactly, but her fat was spread out differently than it was the last time I saw her, so I took a guess, “Uh, nice! How much weight have you lost?”

Man, I hated myself for responding like that.

“Have you lost weight’ is the easiest and safest thing to say in situations like this, but I happen to love my ladies large and lardy, so weight LOSS is almost always a bad thing in my book. But my preferences aside, Dani’s a friend; she’s happy, I’m happy. And she definitely was happy.

She giggled a bit, “Fifteen pounds!”

She was almost wriggling in excitement, “I’m down to 159!”

That kind of enthusiasm is catchy, and the way her wriggling set her to jiggling was. . . more than pleasurable. I smiled, “Take a step back, let me look at you.”

She did, and I looked. I examined the damage this damnable diet had been doing to her beautifully blubbery body. It wasn’t actually too terrible. If it was doing anything, it wasn’t hurting as bad as it sounded. Fifteen pounds. . . Well, if she HAS lost fifteen pounds, she must have put on at LEAST twenty between graduation and starting the diet because she sure wasn’t looking thinner. Maybe even a bit bigger.

But that could have been because of what she had on. I got the feeling looking at her; that she’d bought this outfit earlier on in her diet so she’d have a goal size to get down to, so once she fit into them, she’d have visible proof she’d hit a goal. I ALSO got the feeling she’d put a lot of effort squeezing that flabby, overly curvaceous body into them so she could SAY they fit even though she was still more than a few pounds away from that goal.

She HAD to be in pain from the way those khaki shorts were cutting into her sides; I can just imagine the red mark she’ll have at the end of the day. The seams looked like they were holding, but only just, and panty lines were a definite yes. Her shirt was an old-looking, low-cut, midriff T-shirt that wasn’t entirely able to cover the blubbery folds at Dani’s sides.

Speaking of those blubbery folds, she definitely didn’t look like fifteen pounds thinner than she had the last time I saw her, but I knew well enough not to say that on fear of death. Heck, it almost looked like certain parts of her had gotten BIGGER. . .

The thing about Dani is, her body normally carries fat in a sort of sexy, overblown hourglass shape. Big, bouncy boobies, a round fat ass and hips, with just enough of a belly in between to keep things interesting. That’s how it was before she went to school, anyway. From the way she was looking today, her hourglass seems to be running south.

Her tits were still there, still huge. What did she used to say she was. . . an E cup? Yeah, not sure about that, but I AM sure they haven’t shrunk at all. More the opposite, her shirt was tight enough over them you could see how just barely, they were bubbling up over the tops of the cups. And if you could drag your eyes away from the twins, her pudgy paunch was hanging out a little below, in plain view.

None of this padding up top was anything more than I’d seen her with before, though; Dani’s never been anything less than a fat cow in all the years I’ve known her. Down below was the only visible difference; she had enough junk in that trunk to justify designating those shorts a junkyard. TOO MUCH ass for that fabric to handle safely.

She looked up smiling, waiting for my response, but I didn’t know what to say exactly, so I stood there and nodded my head, smiling. After a few seconds, I had an idea, “How about we head over to the food court and catch up?”

She hesitated, “Well, I already ate at an Arby’s on the way over here, but. . .”

She shrugged, “Eh, whatever, that was like, three hours ago and I haven’t seen you in ages. Sure, lead the way!”

And so I did. It wasn’t a long way, but it was long enough for Dani to get a little out of breath. I was getting the hint she hadn’t lost this weight through exercise. Not that this was my first clue. If anything, it looked like what muscle mass she used to have in her arms and legs had turned to pure, squishy flab through months of inactivity.

The way her entire body was set to jiggling with every step, you knew straight up that this was a girl who spent every minute of every day doing whatever she could to avoid any kind of physical exertion. Which is MASSIVELY hot, don’t get me wrong, but as a friend who knew she was trying to lose weight, I was going to have to ask her about that.

First, though, we were at the food court, “Look around, whatever you want, just ask, I’m buying!”

I was feeling generous. Plus, if I’m paying, she’ll be that much more likely to go off her diet, at least for today. If previous experience was anything to go by, she was only a free all-you-can-eat buffet and a few words of encouragement away from eating enough to tranquilize a hippo.

And previous experience proved itself accurate, that I found out. Unless this unspecified and questionably effective diet was designed with the intention of making this already hefty woman even fatter, she went WAAAY off it. As we sat in the food court talking, she had to pause after every few words to shovel down more food.

While we were there, she had two whole Big Macs and an extra large order of fries, then asked if I could go get her some ice cream from Dairy Queen. If I could get ice cream for her. She was feeling a little ‘too full to move, and the DQ as soooo far away!’

I was happy to oblige, of course. I took that excruciatingly long 200ft hike, came back with an Oreo Brownie Earthquake, because she hadn’t specified what kind of ice cream, and it looked stupid fattening on the pictures, all these brownie chunks and puddles of syrup adding to what already had to be a decently high calorie count.

She didn’t complain when I brought it back, but I think her conscience must have been bothering her because she pointed out that this was just going to have to be ‘an unscheduled cheat day.’

This is my mind talking, but from her puffy appearance and ability to pack away ridiculous amounts of food, I’d guess that these kind of ‘unscheduled cheat days’ happen on a regular basis, adding to the three cheat days she already HAS scheduled for the week!

Somehow, we got onto the topic of how she got onto this diet in the first place, and that was an interesting story. “Okay, so you remember how fat I was when I left to go to school in the fall, right? Well, I actually got even FATTER when I was at school, believe it or not.”

I could believe it. Easily.

“Then, a few months ago, I went to a doctor, and he weighed me and measured me, and he said to me, he said, ‘Dani. You weigh 174 pounds. For a woman your height, that makes you MORBIDLY OBESE, now here’s what you can start doing to lose weight’ and I actually decided to stick to one of them, and as of three weeks ago, I’ve gotten down to 159, which is NO LONGER morbidly obese, so wooo!”

Nope, not MORBIDLY obese, Dani, just VERY obese, congratulations on that step down in that porker pyramid! A SMALL step down, she was DEFINITELY still on that pyramid, and pretty high up, considering she said all this while wolfing down a big mac with the veracity of a starving lion.

Yeah, a very small, very TEMPORARY step down, judging by the way she was pouring out of that outfit and the way she was tearing through those burgers. I got the feeling she’d been celebrating her no-longer-morbid obesity for the entire three weeks, bringing her almost back to where she’d started.

I asked her about her exercise routine, and wouldn’t you know it, she has exactly none. “I should probably get one started, I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve put back on at least a pound or two since my last weigh-in, but I’m just too lazy!”

‘A pound or two.’ I thought. Ooh, mama, I think you’ve gained back more than one or two pounds. I’m thinking you’ve gained back most or all of it, and that thick, meaty ass you got bulging over the sides of your chair agrees with me!

She swallowed the last bite of her sundae and let out a heavy sigh, almost a grunt. Then she blushed, “Um, David, could you, uh, look away for just a second? I just need to do something. . .”

I looked away, but in the corner of my eye, I could still see her undoing her pants button, and I definitely could HEAR the sigh of relief she let out as soon as she’d loosened her waistband. I looked at her for a second and she knew I knew.

She flushed even redder, “I’m sorry, it’s just, you know how when you eat too much, and your pants are too tight, and you just HAVE to unbutton them?”

My straight face fell apart, and she started laughing too, “Oh,I sound like such a fatty when I say that! Shut up, you know you do it too!”

“I didn’t say anything!” She just glared at me, a half-smile on her face.

She (awkwardly) put her arms over her chest and pouted, “Shut up and get me more ice cream!”

She was OBVIOUSLY joking, I KNEW that, but as a man who loves fat girls, I did what I had to do. I walked over to the Dairy Queen stall and came back to an outraged Dani carrying a large cookie dough Blizzard. “I WASN’T SERIOUS!”

I just handed it over to her without saying anything else. She looked at it longingly for a few seconds, then caved in. “David, this is going to completely undo everything I’ve worked for, I swear I’m going to wake up even fatter than I was before I went on this stupid diet, and it’s all your fault!”

Yes, Dani, this ONE MORE massively fattening dessert, THAT’S what’s going to undo all the weight you’ve lost. Not the burgers, or the fries, or that OTHER dessert you just finished a little while ago, those aren’t going to attach themselves to your love handles! I said to myself

That’s what I was thinking, but all I said was, “And yet, you keep eating more.”

I think this one sentence sums up Dani’s entire relationship with food pretty well.

“That’s because. . . well. . . uh. . .” Dani couldn’t seem to think of anything to say, so she just kept eating, squinting her eyes in what I’m sure would have been a menacing fashion if her cheeks weren’t puffed up by a mouthful of cookie dough ice cream and years of overindulging. When she was done, she leaned back with her hands rubbing her soft, domed belly, “NO MORE.”

I laughed at that, and she laughed with me. We chatted a bit longer, nothing interesting enough to talk about here, then we said our goodbyes, she cursed at me for ruining her diet, because clearly it’s MY fault she’s as fat as ever, and we went our separate ways.

I hope I see her sometime soon, see how thin she’s gotten from her diet. I’m thinking she’ll have lost negative something pounds, maybe even less! Maybe she’ll even diet her way back to morbid obesity, if she’s not there already.

Ha, if she is, I’ll hear about it next time I see her, I can imagine it now, ‘IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU KEPT BRINGING ME FOOD AND NOW IT’S ALL STUCK TO MY ASS!”

Yeah, that sounds about right.

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