Big Beautiful Dreamer
ridiculously contented
BBW/BHM, Dining, Romance, ~MWG:
Rhoke plopped down on his couch, sweating and breathing heavily.
"Why were steps ever invented?" he asked himself, as he closed his eyes and leaned backwards. As he did so, he rested his hand on his belly; the white t-shirt he wore was straining against his protruding stomach, letting inches of his bare brown belly show. He used his left hand to rough up his black hair that almost reached his neck, feeling the perspiration. He opened his light brown eyes.
He had just moved in a week before, and all he'd set up was his couch, a television set, and his bed in one of the empty rooms he had. A fridge had come with the apartment. He looked over to the fridge and could remember a few years back that the fridge was his safe haven. Whenever he was feeling down, or was just plain hungry, he would open it and would be in the presence of a deluge of treats. Rhoke closed his eyes at this memory, as he rested one hand on the comfy couch, the other still resting on his flabby gut.
Rhoke opened his eyes. That was why he'd brought home some cheeseburgers and fries from Burger King. He picked his large drink from the floor and placed it between his thighs. He also took out two bacon double cheeseburgers before turning on the TV and chowing down.
Eating again. It wasn't that he was hungry, but rather that it had become a hobby for him. Besides, he had to be ready for the cruise that he was going on in only a few weeks.
He remembered the conversation.
Rhoke took a bite of one of the school's cheeseburgers as he walked toward his friends' table. Already at the table were his friends, Gina, Keesha, and Jamal; they were all on the heavy side as well.
Gina was part Puerto Rican and part Mexican. She had black long hair like Rita that reached her waist, was about 5' 5" and around 250 pounds. She carried it well, too, having large smooth thighs, DD-size breasts, a rotund behind, round cheeks, and a cute double chin. She was the most outgoing in the group.
Keesha was Dominican and had long black hair like Gina, except she had it braided in the front and in a ponytail in the back. She was the same height as Gina and hazel eyes and round cheeks along with a double chin; a third one was beginning to show. Keesha was the heaviest of the four at 316 pounds. She had enormous thighs; her big butt jiggled with everything she did. Her gut was big as well and often, after her lunch, the shirt she wore could no longer contain her belly from showing. Her chest was slightly larger than Gina's. She was extremely shy.
Jamal was Guyanese. He had the same color skin as Keesha and Rhoke and was 5'9". He was around 280 pounds. He and Rhoke were alike in many ways, often called brothers. Jamal was also chowing down on his meal as he saw Rhoke coming to the circular table which was at the back of the cafeteria.
The rest of Rhoke's friends looked toward him as he finished off his burger before even getting to the table. Rhoke was 297 pounds, and he loved every ounce of it. He didn't care what other people thought about him; as long as he was happy, it didn't matter anyway.
He had a stomach that pouched roundly outward, a double chin, flabby arms, and thighs that made it hard for him to fit in any pants.
"Hey, guys," Rhoke said as he set his tray down on the table.
"Hey," they all said in unison as they watched him pull a chair up to the table and sit down.
"Yo, Rhoke," Gina said with excitement in her voice. "I've come up with a summer vacation idea! It's gonna be a lotta fun, especially since we're all of age now!"
Rhoke took another bite of one of the three burgers that he'd gotten, swallowing it before looking over towards her and speaking.
"What is it?" he asked as he reached for one of his chocolate milks.
"Well, since we all like to eat!" she said jokingly, Jamal smiling, Keesha giving a weak smile taking a bite of one of her burgers as well. "I've decided that we take a cruise that's especially for people like us!" Gina exclaimed, patting her hand on her chest.
"What do you mean like us?" Rhoke said, raising a brow slightly.
"She means fat, fat like us. Man, sometimes I hate it when I have to explain things to you," Jamal said with a smile.
"I know that!" Rhoke said.
”They're having a food contest on it, too! You can win up to fifty thousand dollars!" Gina finished with a wide grin upon her face.
Rhoke almost choked on the chocolate milk as he finished it off.
"W-What did you just say?!" Jamal asked, his eyes widening.
"You can win 50,000 dollars just by eating, and being pampered on a luxurious boat cruise."
"Where can you buy the tickets at?" Rhoke asked.
"What can you do there?" Jamal asked.
"Is there going to be a lot of good food there?" Keesha asked, blushing slightly.
"Whoa! I bought our tickets, they were only $300 each and I had a graduation gift from my aunt to splurge with plus a couple of hundred saved. There's loads you can do, but I won't spoil it for you. And food? Of course! It wouldn't be a fat cruise without food!"
Rhoke finished his fourth bacon double cheeseburger and the last carton of his fries as he turned off the TV. His stomach was bulging, and he could feel himself getting aroused. His shirt now was at bursting point and his jeans were feeling extremely tight. He sat there and looked over to the large cup of Coke that he was halfway through with. He opened the lid of it and chugged it down; some of the Coke splashed down onto his shirt as he finished it off.
Now he was at the point where he felt that if he had tried to get up, he would burst out of his clothing. He needed new ones, he thought, as he heaved himself off from the couch. He staggered a bit. He loved the feeling of his body as he walked, his butt jiggling, stomach bouncing, thighs rubbing against each other, and his chest bouncing slightly as he walked to his bedroom.
He entered his small room, which held his bed and suitcase. He flicked on the light - the lamp was on the ground since he hadn't gotten a dresser yet - and walked over to his suitcase. He had all the clothes he needed in it, but didn't have anything to get changed into.
"I need to go back to Mother's house and borrow a dresser or something… and I need to go to the mall tomorrow, too," he said to himself as he bent over to get sweat pants out of his suitcase. He cringed as he felt his bloated stomach squeezing against his jeans.
RIIPPP !
"Again!" Rhoke yelled to himself as he stood back up. This had to be what? The second or third time this had happened? The seams couldn't hold his butt, he thought to himself as he slid down the pants past his fat thighs. After a minute of struggling, he finally got them off. He pulled his shirt up and over his head. He figured that it was better to sleep comfortably than to sleep with restricting clothing.
He left the clothing on the floor and slid into bed slowly. He pulled the covers over himself as he looked up at the blank ceiling that was staring back down at him. "Well...at least the hard part's over...at least, I have the cruise to look forward to," he said, as he drifted into a deep sleep.
----------------
Rhoke fidgeted impatiently, sweat trickling down his neck as the line inched up the gangplank. Gina stood in front of him and Jamal behind him. Keesha had backed out at the last minute. All around him, Rhoke could see other people who were fat like him, ranging in size (he guessed) from 200 to 500 or so. Finally, they were shown to their cabins.
Jamal and Rhoke were sharing a cabin; Gina, having been the financier of the expedition, had a cabin to herself. On each bed was a handout explaining the contest and the rules.
“Please read along silently as I read aloud,” Jamal mocked, as they both thumped onto their beds and read:
"Welcome to the National Size Acceptance Guild’s annual cruise. This year, an anonymous benefactor has made a donation for the sole purpose of an eating contest. The contest will be measured entirely in weight gained as a percentage increase to starting weight. In theory, a 100-pound person gaining 50 pounds would defeat a 300-pound person gaining 75 pounds.
"Amount of intake at any given meal, number of meals per day, and other factors are considered irrelevant. Each passenger will be summoned to the ship’s doctor’s office over the next 48 hours for an examination and weigh-in. Each passenger will sign the liability waiver and intention-to-enter clause at this time; please read over this information carefully before then."
Rhoke and Jamal, lips pursed, read through the boilerplate legal language. Rhoke smiled to himself. Having read a recently published book about the professional eating-contest circuit, he’d adopted some tricks over the last month. He’d cut way, way back on his intake and taken up a moderate (very moderate) exercise program; he’d also begun drinking huge amounts of water at a time to help stretch out his stomach. As a result of his preparations, he knew he weighed in at 280 pounds, about the same as Jamal. Gina, as far as he knew, was 250.
The next day, Jamal and Rhoke were summoned about 9 a.m. Jamal went into the doctor’s office first, coming out about 20 minutes later. Rhoke didn’t have time to ask him anything, as the doctor immediately beckoned Rhoke in.
“Please strip to your underwear,” the doctor said. He was middle-aged and brisk, but warm. He checked Rhoke’s breathing, blood pressure and temperature and asked him a series of questions about Rhoke’s medical history, dwelling on symptoms: dizziness, shortness of breath, thirst, fatigue, the sorts of symptoms that could indicate something more serious. Last of all, he weighed and measured Rhoke.
“You’re 5 feet 9 inches tall and your weight is 279 pounds,” he announced. “Did you bring your form?”
Rhoke had.
“Sign here.”
It was over.
Jamal was waiting when Rhoke emerged. “Five nine and 286,” he announced, slapping his rounded gut.
“Five nine, 279,” Rhoke replied. As they made it back to their cabins.
Gina sauntered up. “Five five, 253,” she announced. Rhoke and Jamal shared their numbers. Just then, the PA crackled.
“Brunch is served on the C deck,” the voice announced.
“And we’re off!” Gina crowed. They moved to the C deck as fast as they could and quickly heaped their plates. As they ate, they chatted about the cruise, the contest and the weigh-in.
“Best of all,” Gina mumbled through a mouthful of cantaloupe, “Everyone on this ship is big … so I don’t have to be self-conscious about my appearance.”
Rhoke swallowed harder than he’d meant to. “When have you ever been self-conscious?” he asked.
Gina paused and looked down. After a long moment, she looked back up. “Every day,” she said softly. “I just never showed it. You can survive high school if you never let them see your vulnerability.”
The awkward moment was broken by a huge belch from Jamal. “Pardon me,” he said daintily, and the tension eased.
Rhoke concentrated on filling his belly, which was beginning to feel stuffed. As well it should. He had emptied three heaping platefuls and drunk more than a quart of water. But neither Gina nor Jamal was slowing down. Rhoke reminded himself that slow and steady wins the race. He reached for the orange juice and poured a glassful, drinking it slowly. A cup of coffee was the perfect finish.
Jamal declared that he was going to nap, and Rhoke suggested a stroll on the deck to Gina. “To keep (urp) from passing out,” he said, puffing slightly.
Gina quickly agreed. All three ponderously rose and moved slowly and carefully toward the entrance, where they parted ways. Rhoke paused to unbutton his shirt, and as they strolled, he unself-consciously massaged his swollen and aching gut, which sagged heavily over his waistband. Taut and sore, his belly bulged smoothly outward, and he felt it slosh as they walked.
Gina’s clothes were maxed out as well. It’s a good thing she was wearing a cropped top; below it, her soft belly, normally folded into two large midriff rolls, had swollen, stuffed with food like a balloon full of hot air. The elastic waistband of her shorts was strained to capacity. Any sudden moves, as if Gina could make any, would snap the elastic. It wouldn’t be pretty.
They made it halfway around the deck before, puffing and sweating, they sank into deck chairs. Reclining, Rhoke involuntarily groaned with relief. He patted his drum of a tummy, making a hollow thudding sound. Drowsily stupefied with food, he lay back and took perverse pleasure in the combination of pain and arousal his stuffed stomach provided. His midsection was stretched to bursting; his belly and sides ached; and he was light-headed and languid, stoned on eating.
Gina, likewise, was somnolent and logy, like a python after a huge meal. Her stomach protruded into the landscape, roundly bloated; occasionally she poked at it to see if there was any room. Of course, her tummy was so stuffed that all she found was another belch. Eventually both drifted off to sleep.
Incredibly, as they reunited at lunch at 1:00, they discovered that, if not actually hungry, they had found room for more food. The debate over eating quickly vs. slowly was a lively one. Around them, other diners were similarly engaged, both in food and competition.
“I can’t believe that thing we had to sign,” Jamal said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “It cracks me up.”
“Which part?” Gina asked.
“ ‘In theory, a 100-pound person,’ ” Jamal quoted. “Get real. “Only thing on here weighing a hundred pounds is my suitcase.”
“Percentages, my man,” Rhoke proclaimed, waving a forkful of corn pudding. “Percentages. The person who paces himself will win in the end.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Gina put in.
The eating was a serious business, with conversation often taking a back seat. Conversation after meals, of course, was about one thing.
“Ooh … myyy …. Gawwwd,” Gina drawled thickly. The three were reclining in the lounge, where a pianist tinkled forgettable tunes. “I am … going … to … explode.”
This was at 8:00. By then they had consumed brunch, lunch, tea, and dinner. The next meal was a midnight buffet, giving them some time to recuperate. Guests dressed for dinner. Gina was wearing a wrap dress that didn’t have quite as much wrap left over as it had an hour and a half ago. She had retied the tie at her bulging waist as loosely as she could get away with. Her belly drooped heavily, laden with food and drink. Her first midriff roll, bloated and painful, rested sweatily atop the second, much more swollen belly roll, which was so distended you could almost see the stretch marks forming. Her face was flushed and a small pool of sweat puddle in the vee of her throat.
Jamal had removed his cummerbund before even leaving the dining room. His bow tie was undone and his dress shirt unbuttoned. Underneath, his undershirt strained tightly across the bloated dome of his abdomen. His pants were unhooked and his belly swelled out into the available opening.
“Owww,” he groaned. He gently pressed against his midriff. Nothing moved. “So … full.” All three were used to eating hugely, but this around-the-clock stuffing was something else.
Rhoke didn’t even try to speak. He was so stuffed it hurt to breathe. His belly bulged not only outward but along his sides. A large spare tire, taut not with air but with food, bulged along both sides, sagging a little over his spreading hips. His aching and swollen gut gurgled ominously, subsiding with a slosh that made his stretched belly pull even tighter for a moment. A belch there was no hope of concealing rumbled up and out.
“(Urp) … sorry,” he managed. Like Jamal, he was halfway undressed. Gradually, as their bloated tummies laboriously digested, they drifted into a nap, from which they were eventually awakened by the announcement of the midnight buffet.
As the cruise progressed, they were weighed every 48 hours. The cruise lasted 10 days. The crew seemed to enjoy the sight of steadily thickening waistlines bulging in the sun, gleaming with sunblock, taut as a row of copper domes. On the last day, a knock on the door would summon each passenger.
Gina, Jamal and Rhoke filed down to the doctor’s area. Had the hallways shrunk? Gina wore a cropped top and sarong. Pray for reinforced seams … that sarong was maxed out. Her breasts strained every stitch of the top; her belly gleamed gorgeously; the sarong strained magnificent hips and showed hints of her classic thighs. She strutted out to the waiting room.
“Ta da, two hundred seventy pounds,” she announced. Jamal and Rhoke quickly followed. Jamal topped out at 300 even, but Rhoke, Mister Slow and Steady, clocked in at 319. He’d gained 40 pounds!
The passengers assembled on the main deck as the results were read. “In third place, progressing from 215 pounds to 241 pounds, Ephraim Hallowell from Derry, New Hampshire, winner of $7,000 and a half-price berth on next year’s cruise. In second place, progressing from 279 to 319 pounds,” Gina grabbed Rhoke’s hand: “Rhoke Cullethal, from Normal, Illinois, winning $20,000 and one free ticket for next year. In first place, progressing from 380 pounds to 440 pounds, Felicia Dockery from Dufresne, Iowa! Winner of $50,000 and two tickets for next year. Winners, come forward, give them all a big hand!” They did. Rhoke found himself with an alabaster-skinned girl and a middle-aged, stoic man in large overalls.
Once off the boat, the friends celebrated with, of course, a huge meal.
As they staggered out of the restaurant, Rhoke held up a hand. “Gina, I can’t (hic!) get down … on one knee,” he puffed. “Next … year (hic!) … come with me … on the (urrrp) cruise … and … marry me.” He paused for breath. “Never ever … be self … conscious (urp) again … you … beautiful … (hic!) woman.”
The Cruise Ship Contest
By Darc (initial - ending by Big Beautiful Dreamer)
By Darc (initial - ending by Big Beautiful Dreamer)
Rhoke plopped down on his couch, sweating and breathing heavily.
"Why were steps ever invented?" he asked himself, as he closed his eyes and leaned backwards. As he did so, he rested his hand on his belly; the white t-shirt he wore was straining against his protruding stomach, letting inches of his bare brown belly show. He used his left hand to rough up his black hair that almost reached his neck, feeling the perspiration. He opened his light brown eyes.
He had just moved in a week before, and all he'd set up was his couch, a television set, and his bed in one of the empty rooms he had. A fridge had come with the apartment. He looked over to the fridge and could remember a few years back that the fridge was his safe haven. Whenever he was feeling down, or was just plain hungry, he would open it and would be in the presence of a deluge of treats. Rhoke closed his eyes at this memory, as he rested one hand on the comfy couch, the other still resting on his flabby gut.
Rhoke opened his eyes. That was why he'd brought home some cheeseburgers and fries from Burger King. He picked his large drink from the floor and placed it between his thighs. He also took out two bacon double cheeseburgers before turning on the TV and chowing down.
Eating again. It wasn't that he was hungry, but rather that it had become a hobby for him. Besides, he had to be ready for the cruise that he was going on in only a few weeks.
He remembered the conversation.
Rhoke took a bite of one of the school's cheeseburgers as he walked toward his friends' table. Already at the table were his friends, Gina, Keesha, and Jamal; they were all on the heavy side as well.
Gina was part Puerto Rican and part Mexican. She had black long hair like Rita that reached her waist, was about 5' 5" and around 250 pounds. She carried it well, too, having large smooth thighs, DD-size breasts, a rotund behind, round cheeks, and a cute double chin. She was the most outgoing in the group.
Keesha was Dominican and had long black hair like Gina, except she had it braided in the front and in a ponytail in the back. She was the same height as Gina and hazel eyes and round cheeks along with a double chin; a third one was beginning to show. Keesha was the heaviest of the four at 316 pounds. She had enormous thighs; her big butt jiggled with everything she did. Her gut was big as well and often, after her lunch, the shirt she wore could no longer contain her belly from showing. Her chest was slightly larger than Gina's. She was extremely shy.
Jamal was Guyanese. He had the same color skin as Keesha and Rhoke and was 5'9". He was around 280 pounds. He and Rhoke were alike in many ways, often called brothers. Jamal was also chowing down on his meal as he saw Rhoke coming to the circular table which was at the back of the cafeteria.
The rest of Rhoke's friends looked toward him as he finished off his burger before even getting to the table. Rhoke was 297 pounds, and he loved every ounce of it. He didn't care what other people thought about him; as long as he was happy, it didn't matter anyway.
He had a stomach that pouched roundly outward, a double chin, flabby arms, and thighs that made it hard for him to fit in any pants.
"Hey, guys," Rhoke said as he set his tray down on the table.
"Hey," they all said in unison as they watched him pull a chair up to the table and sit down.
"Yo, Rhoke," Gina said with excitement in her voice. "I've come up with a summer vacation idea! It's gonna be a lotta fun, especially since we're all of age now!"
Rhoke took another bite of one of the three burgers that he'd gotten, swallowing it before looking over towards her and speaking.
"What is it?" he asked as he reached for one of his chocolate milks.
"Well, since we all like to eat!" she said jokingly, Jamal smiling, Keesha giving a weak smile taking a bite of one of her burgers as well. "I've decided that we take a cruise that's especially for people like us!" Gina exclaimed, patting her hand on her chest.
"What do you mean like us?" Rhoke said, raising a brow slightly.
"She means fat, fat like us. Man, sometimes I hate it when I have to explain things to you," Jamal said with a smile.
"I know that!" Rhoke said.
”They're having a food contest on it, too! You can win up to fifty thousand dollars!" Gina finished with a wide grin upon her face.
Rhoke almost choked on the chocolate milk as he finished it off.
"W-What did you just say?!" Jamal asked, his eyes widening.
"You can win 50,000 dollars just by eating, and being pampered on a luxurious boat cruise."
"Where can you buy the tickets at?" Rhoke asked.
"What can you do there?" Jamal asked.
"Is there going to be a lot of good food there?" Keesha asked, blushing slightly.
"Whoa! I bought our tickets, they were only $300 each and I had a graduation gift from my aunt to splurge with plus a couple of hundred saved. There's loads you can do, but I won't spoil it for you. And food? Of course! It wouldn't be a fat cruise without food!"
Rhoke finished his fourth bacon double cheeseburger and the last carton of his fries as he turned off the TV. His stomach was bulging, and he could feel himself getting aroused. His shirt now was at bursting point and his jeans were feeling extremely tight. He sat there and looked over to the large cup of Coke that he was halfway through with. He opened the lid of it and chugged it down; some of the Coke splashed down onto his shirt as he finished it off.
Now he was at the point where he felt that if he had tried to get up, he would burst out of his clothing. He needed new ones, he thought, as he heaved himself off from the couch. He staggered a bit. He loved the feeling of his body as he walked, his butt jiggling, stomach bouncing, thighs rubbing against each other, and his chest bouncing slightly as he walked to his bedroom.
He entered his small room, which held his bed and suitcase. He flicked on the light - the lamp was on the ground since he hadn't gotten a dresser yet - and walked over to his suitcase. He had all the clothes he needed in it, but didn't have anything to get changed into.
"I need to go back to Mother's house and borrow a dresser or something… and I need to go to the mall tomorrow, too," he said to himself as he bent over to get sweat pants out of his suitcase. He cringed as he felt his bloated stomach squeezing against his jeans.
RIIPPP !
"Again!" Rhoke yelled to himself as he stood back up. This had to be what? The second or third time this had happened? The seams couldn't hold his butt, he thought to himself as he slid down the pants past his fat thighs. After a minute of struggling, he finally got them off. He pulled his shirt up and over his head. He figured that it was better to sleep comfortably than to sleep with restricting clothing.
He left the clothing on the floor and slid into bed slowly. He pulled the covers over himself as he looked up at the blank ceiling that was staring back down at him. "Well...at least the hard part's over...at least, I have the cruise to look forward to," he said, as he drifted into a deep sleep.
----------------
Rhoke fidgeted impatiently, sweat trickling down his neck as the line inched up the gangplank. Gina stood in front of him and Jamal behind him. Keesha had backed out at the last minute. All around him, Rhoke could see other people who were fat like him, ranging in size (he guessed) from 200 to 500 or so. Finally, they were shown to their cabins.
Jamal and Rhoke were sharing a cabin; Gina, having been the financier of the expedition, had a cabin to herself. On each bed was a handout explaining the contest and the rules.
“Please read along silently as I read aloud,” Jamal mocked, as they both thumped onto their beds and read:
"Welcome to the National Size Acceptance Guild’s annual cruise. This year, an anonymous benefactor has made a donation for the sole purpose of an eating contest. The contest will be measured entirely in weight gained as a percentage increase to starting weight. In theory, a 100-pound person gaining 50 pounds would defeat a 300-pound person gaining 75 pounds.
"Amount of intake at any given meal, number of meals per day, and other factors are considered irrelevant. Each passenger will be summoned to the ship’s doctor’s office over the next 48 hours for an examination and weigh-in. Each passenger will sign the liability waiver and intention-to-enter clause at this time; please read over this information carefully before then."
Rhoke and Jamal, lips pursed, read through the boilerplate legal language. Rhoke smiled to himself. Having read a recently published book about the professional eating-contest circuit, he’d adopted some tricks over the last month. He’d cut way, way back on his intake and taken up a moderate (very moderate) exercise program; he’d also begun drinking huge amounts of water at a time to help stretch out his stomach. As a result of his preparations, he knew he weighed in at 280 pounds, about the same as Jamal. Gina, as far as he knew, was 250.
The next day, Jamal and Rhoke were summoned about 9 a.m. Jamal went into the doctor’s office first, coming out about 20 minutes later. Rhoke didn’t have time to ask him anything, as the doctor immediately beckoned Rhoke in.
“Please strip to your underwear,” the doctor said. He was middle-aged and brisk, but warm. He checked Rhoke’s breathing, blood pressure and temperature and asked him a series of questions about Rhoke’s medical history, dwelling on symptoms: dizziness, shortness of breath, thirst, fatigue, the sorts of symptoms that could indicate something more serious. Last of all, he weighed and measured Rhoke.
“You’re 5 feet 9 inches tall and your weight is 279 pounds,” he announced. “Did you bring your form?”
Rhoke had.
“Sign here.”
It was over.
Jamal was waiting when Rhoke emerged. “Five nine and 286,” he announced, slapping his rounded gut.
“Five nine, 279,” Rhoke replied. As they made it back to their cabins.
Gina sauntered up. “Five five, 253,” she announced. Rhoke and Jamal shared their numbers. Just then, the PA crackled.
“Brunch is served on the C deck,” the voice announced.
“And we’re off!” Gina crowed. They moved to the C deck as fast as they could and quickly heaped their plates. As they ate, they chatted about the cruise, the contest and the weigh-in.
“Best of all,” Gina mumbled through a mouthful of cantaloupe, “Everyone on this ship is big … so I don’t have to be self-conscious about my appearance.”
Rhoke swallowed harder than he’d meant to. “When have you ever been self-conscious?” he asked.
Gina paused and looked down. After a long moment, she looked back up. “Every day,” she said softly. “I just never showed it. You can survive high school if you never let them see your vulnerability.”
The awkward moment was broken by a huge belch from Jamal. “Pardon me,” he said daintily, and the tension eased.
Rhoke concentrated on filling his belly, which was beginning to feel stuffed. As well it should. He had emptied three heaping platefuls and drunk more than a quart of water. But neither Gina nor Jamal was slowing down. Rhoke reminded himself that slow and steady wins the race. He reached for the orange juice and poured a glassful, drinking it slowly. A cup of coffee was the perfect finish.
Jamal declared that he was going to nap, and Rhoke suggested a stroll on the deck to Gina. “To keep (urp) from passing out,” he said, puffing slightly.
Gina quickly agreed. All three ponderously rose and moved slowly and carefully toward the entrance, where they parted ways. Rhoke paused to unbutton his shirt, and as they strolled, he unself-consciously massaged his swollen and aching gut, which sagged heavily over his waistband. Taut and sore, his belly bulged smoothly outward, and he felt it slosh as they walked.
Gina’s clothes were maxed out as well. It’s a good thing she was wearing a cropped top; below it, her soft belly, normally folded into two large midriff rolls, had swollen, stuffed with food like a balloon full of hot air. The elastic waistband of her shorts was strained to capacity. Any sudden moves, as if Gina could make any, would snap the elastic. It wouldn’t be pretty.
They made it halfway around the deck before, puffing and sweating, they sank into deck chairs. Reclining, Rhoke involuntarily groaned with relief. He patted his drum of a tummy, making a hollow thudding sound. Drowsily stupefied with food, he lay back and took perverse pleasure in the combination of pain and arousal his stuffed stomach provided. His midsection was stretched to bursting; his belly and sides ached; and he was light-headed and languid, stoned on eating.
Gina, likewise, was somnolent and logy, like a python after a huge meal. Her stomach protruded into the landscape, roundly bloated; occasionally she poked at it to see if there was any room. Of course, her tummy was so stuffed that all she found was another belch. Eventually both drifted off to sleep.
Incredibly, as they reunited at lunch at 1:00, they discovered that, if not actually hungry, they had found room for more food. The debate over eating quickly vs. slowly was a lively one. Around them, other diners were similarly engaged, both in food and competition.
“I can’t believe that thing we had to sign,” Jamal said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “It cracks me up.”
“Which part?” Gina asked.
“ ‘In theory, a 100-pound person,’ ” Jamal quoted. “Get real. “Only thing on here weighing a hundred pounds is my suitcase.”
“Percentages, my man,” Rhoke proclaimed, waving a forkful of corn pudding. “Percentages. The person who paces himself will win in the end.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Gina put in.
The eating was a serious business, with conversation often taking a back seat. Conversation after meals, of course, was about one thing.
“Ooh … myyy …. Gawwwd,” Gina drawled thickly. The three were reclining in the lounge, where a pianist tinkled forgettable tunes. “I am … going … to … explode.”
This was at 8:00. By then they had consumed brunch, lunch, tea, and dinner. The next meal was a midnight buffet, giving them some time to recuperate. Guests dressed for dinner. Gina was wearing a wrap dress that didn’t have quite as much wrap left over as it had an hour and a half ago. She had retied the tie at her bulging waist as loosely as she could get away with. Her belly drooped heavily, laden with food and drink. Her first midriff roll, bloated and painful, rested sweatily atop the second, much more swollen belly roll, which was so distended you could almost see the stretch marks forming. Her face was flushed and a small pool of sweat puddle in the vee of her throat.
Jamal had removed his cummerbund before even leaving the dining room. His bow tie was undone and his dress shirt unbuttoned. Underneath, his undershirt strained tightly across the bloated dome of his abdomen. His pants were unhooked and his belly swelled out into the available opening.
“Owww,” he groaned. He gently pressed against his midriff. Nothing moved. “So … full.” All three were used to eating hugely, but this around-the-clock stuffing was something else.
Rhoke didn’t even try to speak. He was so stuffed it hurt to breathe. His belly bulged not only outward but along his sides. A large spare tire, taut not with air but with food, bulged along both sides, sagging a little over his spreading hips. His aching and swollen gut gurgled ominously, subsiding with a slosh that made his stretched belly pull even tighter for a moment. A belch there was no hope of concealing rumbled up and out.
“(Urp) … sorry,” he managed. Like Jamal, he was halfway undressed. Gradually, as their bloated tummies laboriously digested, they drifted into a nap, from which they were eventually awakened by the announcement of the midnight buffet.
As the cruise progressed, they were weighed every 48 hours. The cruise lasted 10 days. The crew seemed to enjoy the sight of steadily thickening waistlines bulging in the sun, gleaming with sunblock, taut as a row of copper domes. On the last day, a knock on the door would summon each passenger.
Gina, Jamal and Rhoke filed down to the doctor’s area. Had the hallways shrunk? Gina wore a cropped top and sarong. Pray for reinforced seams … that sarong was maxed out. Her breasts strained every stitch of the top; her belly gleamed gorgeously; the sarong strained magnificent hips and showed hints of her classic thighs. She strutted out to the waiting room.
“Ta da, two hundred seventy pounds,” she announced. Jamal and Rhoke quickly followed. Jamal topped out at 300 even, but Rhoke, Mister Slow and Steady, clocked in at 319. He’d gained 40 pounds!
The passengers assembled on the main deck as the results were read. “In third place, progressing from 215 pounds to 241 pounds, Ephraim Hallowell from Derry, New Hampshire, winner of $7,000 and a half-price berth on next year’s cruise. In second place, progressing from 279 to 319 pounds,” Gina grabbed Rhoke’s hand: “Rhoke Cullethal, from Normal, Illinois, winning $20,000 and one free ticket for next year. In first place, progressing from 380 pounds to 440 pounds, Felicia Dockery from Dufresne, Iowa! Winner of $50,000 and two tickets for next year. Winners, come forward, give them all a big hand!” They did. Rhoke found himself with an alabaster-skinned girl and a middle-aged, stoic man in large overalls.
Once off the boat, the friends celebrated with, of course, a huge meal.
As they staggered out of the restaurant, Rhoke held up a hand. “Gina, I can’t (hic!) get down … on one knee,” he puffed. “Next … year (hic!) … come with me … on the (urrrp) cruise … and … marry me.” He paused for breath. “Never ever … be self … conscious (urp) again … you … beautiful … (hic!) woman.”
