~BBW, Intrigue, Romance - Starsmore commits to a new job, but committing to a relationship proves more difficult.
[Author's Note: Sorry it took so long, but my computer went down and I was unable to finish this part. Also, I've started other stories and this one fell to the side. Anyways, here is the penultimate chapter to the story.]
Part 7- Just so they Know, The Chupacabra, and a Dirty Table
“You know what I want you to do if you ever find me dead?” Amanda asked, catching me off guard.
“That’s an odd question to ask someone…I mean even for us,” I said, unsure of an answer to give, or rather lack of a snappy comeback. I guess it’s true what they say, relationships kill the humor in you.
“Maybe, but I want you to place a bible next to me…Just so they know.” she replied. Apparently, her sense of humor is immune. I feel an odd sense of jealousy towards her for that.
“As much as I enjoy our post coitus banter, I’m needed down at the job. I got to discuss business with Mr. Summers,” I said, getting out of bed, my body betraying my desire, and began to put my clothes on.
“What business does a janitor have to discuss with the owner. DO YOU HAVE AN INGENIOUS NEW WAY OF CLEANING TOILETS? Have you figured out a way to put those uppity scrubbing bubbles out of work?”
“Well, suffice it to say, it’s MEN’S BUSINESS, WOMAN! Not for the likes of your sex to comprehend!” I said, jutting up from the bed and goose-stepping to the door.
“You bastard.” She smiled and threw a pillow at my head.
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I said, dodging the pillow.
“I’ll see you before we open tonight, right?” she asked as I stood in the doorway.
“Yeah…I’ll see you,” I said, smiling and walking out the bedroom door. As I closed the door behind, my smile slowly faded.
“Hey, James,” Tara greeted me in her general cheerful manner.
“How’s it going, Tara?” I replied, my face unable to mask my stark mood.
“Me? I am good, it’s the big day. How could I not be? YOU! However, looks like you’re about to go fight Clubber Lang to retain your title,” she said, her previous smile transformed into furrowed brows and eyes expressing a genuine concern. “Everything alright between you and Manda?” she inquired, her concern turning to fear.
“No, everything’s great between us. In fact couldn’t be better. I haven’t been this happy…since, ever, really.” I said doing my best to allay her fears, but my words felt hollow. Doing my best to cover. “No, it’s just that I have to talk to Mr. Summers and…well, you know how that goes. Never know how the talks with the boss will end up.”
Her eyes slacked, her shoulders untensed, her entire body loosened up, and she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I know how that is. Anyways, I’ll let him know you’re here.” She picked up the phone.
“Go on in, and good luck…” she said, putting the phone down.
“Mr. Starsmoore, I take it you’ve thought this decision over quite thoroughly, as you decided to cut it so close to the big opening to give me your answer. Mind you, you were free to take as long as you needed, but I guess you took into account that you were about to piss off some people by your Judean actions. Well, my good man, what is your answer?” Mr. Summers asked with a wide grin on his face, as if the outcome was never in question. Maybe it wasn’t.
“I accept your offer; I will manage your new club.”
“I knew you were a smart man, and realize the deal will be more than worth your time. I am still having…”
“But, I still need to ask Amanda if she is willing to go with me.”
“Oh…you mean you haven’t already?”
“Unfortunately I haven’t. I’ve been selfishly holding onto our current bliss.”
“I see…Well, I think you need to muster up the courage, and prepare a hell of a speech, because this is big.”
“I know…I know this is a lot to ask. Almost too much, I just needed to make sure that I wanted to do this before I asked.”
“Well, I know your answer, that is enough. I suggest you get back to her place and drop the bomb.”
“If she says yes, we’re leaving immediately," I said, getting up from my chair.
“I know, but what if she says no?”
“Well, then I guess, I‘d be on my way anyway,” I said as I walked out the door.
“’What if she says no? yeah…what if she does,” I thought as I ran to my car. The cold air cut straight through my sweatshirt, darn Southern California, never can predict the weather. The clouds were dark and pregnant, some would say it’s an omen, but I never have been one to listen to people.
“Come on, you piece of crud!” I yelled in a futile attempt to scare my car into starting. I sat there listening to the engine make sounds that would be more appropriate coming from a sixty-year-old man with a peptic ulcer.
“Please, start,” I said, my anger turning to feeble begging, and true to my mother’s words that is all it takes. I shifted into drive and was on my way. Singing . . .
“I know these dreams are make believe/ But I don’t think we should let them go/ They promise you a room in St. Tropez/ But one day we gonna make it to Mexico…”
I stood there in front of her apartment door, paralyzed. There was a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach as if someone had just worked me over like a heavy bag. I keep telling myself, “It‘s just like breaking a bone…one...two…three.”
“ONE SECOND!” Amanda yelled. “I was hoping it would be you,” she said opening the door in nothing but a crimson terry cotton towel. The towel didn’t nearly cover enough of massive expanse, not that I’m complaining. Her breasts looked like if she made any sudden movement they would pop right out. I was hoping she would show me taijitsu right now.
“We need to talk,” I said as I walked past her. As we sat down, I noticed her cheery mood turned to one of anxiety.
“What’s this about, baby?”
“Mr. Summers is opening another club in Jersey…”
“And what you want to tell him to make sure his workers have gas masks, so they don’t die of the toxic air? What does that have to do with us?”
“He asked me to manage it for him. I said yes.”
“Oh…” She lowered her head.
“Yeah…What I wanted to ask you was…would you go with me?”
She sat there for a while, not saying anything, barely moving with her head tucked into her chest. Her eyes glassy, it was like she had been shot, and I was just sitting next to her holding the gun. Then without warning, “Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do you love me; it’s not a difficult question to answer. A simple yes or no will suffice. Do you love me?”
“I…”
“That’s what I figured,” her voice breaking and she was on the verge tears.
“No it’s not like that. I have very strong feelings for you, I wouldn’t ask you to come with me if I didn’t. It’s just…love isn’t a word I throw around without truly meaning it. Every time I’ve uttered those two little words, it did to the relationship what Fat Boy did to Nagasaki. I never understood why people in a relationship are so eager to hear the phrase and why people are willing to recklessly throw around something so fragile…”
“I understand, but you couldn’t just lie to me?”
“I care about you too much to do that, and I won’t lie about something like that. It would be wrong of me to use that as a means of convincing you, but if you allow me, I‘d like to spend the time on the way up showing you just how much I care about you.”
“…”
“So, will you come with me?”
“I have to get ready for work.”
“Oh…alright.”
-----------
“How do I look, you shabby bastards? Sharp, right?” Shiny Shoes Johnson asked as he walked into the living room wearing a three-piece alabaster suit with a ruby-colored bow tie, white fedora with red trim, and white leather shoes so shiny that they looked like the Pope blessed them.
“You look pimped out, Holmes,” Alejandro said in a conservative black two-piece suit with his dark black hair slicked back with palm grease.
“Wait, are you wearing a bloody ascot?” Ridley asked as he looked over at Alejandro.
“I think it makes me looks dignified.” Alejandro straightened out his jacket.
“Do you have a powdered wig?”
“No.”
“Well then take the blasted thing off.”
“YOU NEVER LET ME HAVE NICE THINGS!” Alejandro yelled as he ran into his room.
“You were a bit rough on him don’t you think?” Shiny Shoes asked, sitting down next to Ridley.
“Look, we need to blend in and it’s bad enough you looking like you are. I don’t need him looking like some damn poof,” Ridley said with his leg shaking uncontrollably and fiddling around in his coat pocket trying to find his pack of Pall Malls.
“You alright man?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I mean this isn’t hard, we’re just running some fat chicks out of town. I don’t know why I am so nervous, I mean it’s not like were hunting the Chupacabra.”
“¡MI HERMANO!” Alejandro exclaimed as he walked out of his room.
“Oh, sorry, man…I forgot.”
“This is just falling apart,” he thought to himself.
“Why did he have to ruin it? Why couldn’t he just let us be happy? Why does this always happen?” Amanda thought to herself as she sat in her kitchen. She spiraled into a deep depression since James asked her to leave with him. Her tears soaked the tight white t-shirt she had put on; the thin material clung to her curves and became translucent. Each tearful sob caused body to jiggle violently. The table she sat at was covered with snack foods. She perked her head up and stared at the spread, everything from Oreos to Zingers. All the foods she comforted herself with as a teenager.
“I’ve been so good lately, I shouldn’t ruin it now. Who am I kidding; I’ve probably put on ten pounds since Christmas anyways. Plus, what’s the difference between two ninety and three hundred, it’s not like I’m not just some fat monster already.” Amanda struggled with the decision to tear open a box of Ring Dings and inhale them, pushing the box away and then quickly grabbing it again.
In the end, the pain was too much to bear. She ripped open the box and began peeling off the foil from a Ring Ding, and taking slow bites from the chocolate cake. She made sure to savor each bite. After she got halfway through with one, she sensually licked the crème from the middle. As soon as she started she finished the box, she threw it to the floor and grabbed a sleeve of Oreos.
The pleasure she experienced as she mowed down cookie after cookie she forgot as she denied herself for so long. Last time she stuffed herself to the point where she felt a mixture of pain and pleasure was in high school when her mom and step-dad went out drinking on the weekends. Her capacity was always high, and she always got off on emptying the pantry when she was younger. After eating all the Oreos, she was barely sated even though her stomach started to feel hard.
She grabbed the box of Twinkies in front of her and dumped the contents onto the table. She then unwrapped each one and laid them out in front her. She got up and opened her freezer, pulling out a carton of ice cream. She snatched a large bowl from her cupboards and a spoon from a drawer then scooped two spoonfuls into the bowl.
She put the carton down on the table and rubbed her hands to get back the feeling she lost from the cold of the container. Then she picked up two Twinkies and dropped them in into the bowl, and ground the items together using the spoon, turning the concoction into a golden paste. She scooped up two more spoonfuls of ice cream and then began to shovel bite after bite of the creation into her mouth.
In between mouthfuls of cold ice cream, she picked up a golden sponge cake and devoured it. Before long, nothing but an empty bowl and empty wrappers covered the table. She leaned back her hand cradling her belly and let out a giant moan of pleasure. She sat barely able to move, rubbing her full tummy, moving the soft fat through her fingers like quicksand. Each firm motion from her hands alleviated some of the pain, and caused her ecstasy. As her hands began to roam the rest of her expanse, she happened to catch the time, sending her into a panic; if she didn’t hurry up and get dressed she’d be late for the opening.
“Why did I have to overdo it like that?” she thought as she struggled to get her black slacks over her thighs. After some doing, she managed to get them over her hefty backside and thick thighs. Now the real battle began getting them to button up over her bloated belly. She pulled and pulled, just barely getting the button within a short distance of the hole, only to have her fingers lose grip. She tried this repeatedly with no better luck than before. Finally, she lay down on her bed, sucked in her gut, gripped the sides of her pants, and pulled with all her might, and by some miracle managed to get them buttoned and zipped.
Now all she had to do was button her shirt and leave. The shirt was less of a problem, but still her engorged tummy pushed them to their limits. As she looked at herself in the mirror she thought, “Better take it easy tonight, any sudden movement and I’ll burst out of these clothes like I was Bruce Banner. Hopefully this will get me some good tips though…”
[Author's Note: Sorry it took so long, but my computer went down and I was unable to finish this part. Also, I've started other stories and this one fell to the side. Anyways, here is the penultimate chapter to the story.]
Part 7- Just so they Know, The Chupacabra, and a Dirty Table
“You know what I want you to do if you ever find me dead?” Amanda asked, catching me off guard.
“That’s an odd question to ask someone…I mean even for us,” I said, unsure of an answer to give, or rather lack of a snappy comeback. I guess it’s true what they say, relationships kill the humor in you.
“Maybe, but I want you to place a bible next to me…Just so they know.” she replied. Apparently, her sense of humor is immune. I feel an odd sense of jealousy towards her for that.
“As much as I enjoy our post coitus banter, I’m needed down at the job. I got to discuss business with Mr. Summers,” I said, getting out of bed, my body betraying my desire, and began to put my clothes on.
“What business does a janitor have to discuss with the owner. DO YOU HAVE AN INGENIOUS NEW WAY OF CLEANING TOILETS? Have you figured out a way to put those uppity scrubbing bubbles out of work?”
“Well, suffice it to say, it’s MEN’S BUSINESS, WOMAN! Not for the likes of your sex to comprehend!” I said, jutting up from the bed and goose-stepping to the door.
“You bastard.” She smiled and threw a pillow at my head.
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I said, dodging the pillow.
“I’ll see you before we open tonight, right?” she asked as I stood in the doorway.
“Yeah…I’ll see you,” I said, smiling and walking out the bedroom door. As I closed the door behind, my smile slowly faded.
“Hey, James,” Tara greeted me in her general cheerful manner.
“How’s it going, Tara?” I replied, my face unable to mask my stark mood.
“Me? I am good, it’s the big day. How could I not be? YOU! However, looks like you’re about to go fight Clubber Lang to retain your title,” she said, her previous smile transformed into furrowed brows and eyes expressing a genuine concern. “Everything alright between you and Manda?” she inquired, her concern turning to fear.
“No, everything’s great between us. In fact couldn’t be better. I haven’t been this happy…since, ever, really.” I said doing my best to allay her fears, but my words felt hollow. Doing my best to cover. “No, it’s just that I have to talk to Mr. Summers and…well, you know how that goes. Never know how the talks with the boss will end up.”
Her eyes slacked, her shoulders untensed, her entire body loosened up, and she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I know how that is. Anyways, I’ll let him know you’re here.” She picked up the phone.
“Go on in, and good luck…” she said, putting the phone down.
“Mr. Starsmoore, I take it you’ve thought this decision over quite thoroughly, as you decided to cut it so close to the big opening to give me your answer. Mind you, you were free to take as long as you needed, but I guess you took into account that you were about to piss off some people by your Judean actions. Well, my good man, what is your answer?” Mr. Summers asked with a wide grin on his face, as if the outcome was never in question. Maybe it wasn’t.
“I accept your offer; I will manage your new club.”
“I knew you were a smart man, and realize the deal will be more than worth your time. I am still having…”
“But, I still need to ask Amanda if she is willing to go with me.”
“Oh…you mean you haven’t already?”
“Unfortunately I haven’t. I’ve been selfishly holding onto our current bliss.”
“I see…Well, I think you need to muster up the courage, and prepare a hell of a speech, because this is big.”
“I know…I know this is a lot to ask. Almost too much, I just needed to make sure that I wanted to do this before I asked.”
“Well, I know your answer, that is enough. I suggest you get back to her place and drop the bomb.”
“If she says yes, we’re leaving immediately," I said, getting up from my chair.
“I know, but what if she says no?”
“Well, then I guess, I‘d be on my way anyway,” I said as I walked out the door.
“’What if she says no? yeah…what if she does,” I thought as I ran to my car. The cold air cut straight through my sweatshirt, darn Southern California, never can predict the weather. The clouds were dark and pregnant, some would say it’s an omen, but I never have been one to listen to people.
“Come on, you piece of crud!” I yelled in a futile attempt to scare my car into starting. I sat there listening to the engine make sounds that would be more appropriate coming from a sixty-year-old man with a peptic ulcer.
“Please, start,” I said, my anger turning to feeble begging, and true to my mother’s words that is all it takes. I shifted into drive and was on my way. Singing . . .
“I know these dreams are make believe/ But I don’t think we should let them go/ They promise you a room in St. Tropez/ But one day we gonna make it to Mexico…”
I stood there in front of her apartment door, paralyzed. There was a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach as if someone had just worked me over like a heavy bag. I keep telling myself, “It‘s just like breaking a bone…one...two…three.”
“ONE SECOND!” Amanda yelled. “I was hoping it would be you,” she said opening the door in nothing but a crimson terry cotton towel. The towel didn’t nearly cover enough of massive expanse, not that I’m complaining. Her breasts looked like if she made any sudden movement they would pop right out. I was hoping she would show me taijitsu right now.
“We need to talk,” I said as I walked past her. As we sat down, I noticed her cheery mood turned to one of anxiety.
“What’s this about, baby?”
“Mr. Summers is opening another club in Jersey…”
“And what you want to tell him to make sure his workers have gas masks, so they don’t die of the toxic air? What does that have to do with us?”
“He asked me to manage it for him. I said yes.”
“Oh…” She lowered her head.
“Yeah…What I wanted to ask you was…would you go with me?”
She sat there for a while, not saying anything, barely moving with her head tucked into her chest. Her eyes glassy, it was like she had been shot, and I was just sitting next to her holding the gun. Then without warning, “Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do you love me; it’s not a difficult question to answer. A simple yes or no will suffice. Do you love me?”
“I…”
“That’s what I figured,” her voice breaking and she was on the verge tears.
“No it’s not like that. I have very strong feelings for you, I wouldn’t ask you to come with me if I didn’t. It’s just…love isn’t a word I throw around without truly meaning it. Every time I’ve uttered those two little words, it did to the relationship what Fat Boy did to Nagasaki. I never understood why people in a relationship are so eager to hear the phrase and why people are willing to recklessly throw around something so fragile…”
“I understand, but you couldn’t just lie to me?”
“I care about you too much to do that, and I won’t lie about something like that. It would be wrong of me to use that as a means of convincing you, but if you allow me, I‘d like to spend the time on the way up showing you just how much I care about you.”
“…”
“So, will you come with me?”
“I have to get ready for work.”
“Oh…alright.”
-----------
“How do I look, you shabby bastards? Sharp, right?” Shiny Shoes Johnson asked as he walked into the living room wearing a three-piece alabaster suit with a ruby-colored bow tie, white fedora with red trim, and white leather shoes so shiny that they looked like the Pope blessed them.
“You look pimped out, Holmes,” Alejandro said in a conservative black two-piece suit with his dark black hair slicked back with palm grease.
“Wait, are you wearing a bloody ascot?” Ridley asked as he looked over at Alejandro.
“I think it makes me looks dignified.” Alejandro straightened out his jacket.
“Do you have a powdered wig?”
“No.”
“Well then take the blasted thing off.”
“YOU NEVER LET ME HAVE NICE THINGS!” Alejandro yelled as he ran into his room.
“You were a bit rough on him don’t you think?” Shiny Shoes asked, sitting down next to Ridley.
“Look, we need to blend in and it’s bad enough you looking like you are. I don’t need him looking like some damn poof,” Ridley said with his leg shaking uncontrollably and fiddling around in his coat pocket trying to find his pack of Pall Malls.
“You alright man?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I mean this isn’t hard, we’re just running some fat chicks out of town. I don’t know why I am so nervous, I mean it’s not like were hunting the Chupacabra.”
“¡MI HERMANO!” Alejandro exclaimed as he walked out of his room.
“Oh, sorry, man…I forgot.”
“This is just falling apart,” he thought to himself.
“Why did he have to ruin it? Why couldn’t he just let us be happy? Why does this always happen?” Amanda thought to herself as she sat in her kitchen. She spiraled into a deep depression since James asked her to leave with him. Her tears soaked the tight white t-shirt she had put on; the thin material clung to her curves and became translucent. Each tearful sob caused body to jiggle violently. The table she sat at was covered with snack foods. She perked her head up and stared at the spread, everything from Oreos to Zingers. All the foods she comforted herself with as a teenager.
“I’ve been so good lately, I shouldn’t ruin it now. Who am I kidding; I’ve probably put on ten pounds since Christmas anyways. Plus, what’s the difference between two ninety and three hundred, it’s not like I’m not just some fat monster already.” Amanda struggled with the decision to tear open a box of Ring Dings and inhale them, pushing the box away and then quickly grabbing it again.
In the end, the pain was too much to bear. She ripped open the box and began peeling off the foil from a Ring Ding, and taking slow bites from the chocolate cake. She made sure to savor each bite. After she got halfway through with one, she sensually licked the crème from the middle. As soon as she started she finished the box, she threw it to the floor and grabbed a sleeve of Oreos.
The pleasure she experienced as she mowed down cookie after cookie she forgot as she denied herself for so long. Last time she stuffed herself to the point where she felt a mixture of pain and pleasure was in high school when her mom and step-dad went out drinking on the weekends. Her capacity was always high, and she always got off on emptying the pantry when she was younger. After eating all the Oreos, she was barely sated even though her stomach started to feel hard.
She grabbed the box of Twinkies in front of her and dumped the contents onto the table. She then unwrapped each one and laid them out in front her. She got up and opened her freezer, pulling out a carton of ice cream. She snatched a large bowl from her cupboards and a spoon from a drawer then scooped two spoonfuls into the bowl.
She put the carton down on the table and rubbed her hands to get back the feeling she lost from the cold of the container. Then she picked up two Twinkies and dropped them in into the bowl, and ground the items together using the spoon, turning the concoction into a golden paste. She scooped up two more spoonfuls of ice cream and then began to shovel bite after bite of the creation into her mouth.
In between mouthfuls of cold ice cream, she picked up a golden sponge cake and devoured it. Before long, nothing but an empty bowl and empty wrappers covered the table. She leaned back her hand cradling her belly and let out a giant moan of pleasure. She sat barely able to move, rubbing her full tummy, moving the soft fat through her fingers like quicksand. Each firm motion from her hands alleviated some of the pain, and caused her ecstasy. As her hands began to roam the rest of her expanse, she happened to catch the time, sending her into a panic; if she didn’t hurry up and get dressed she’d be late for the opening.
“Why did I have to overdo it like that?” she thought as she struggled to get her black slacks over her thighs. After some doing, she managed to get them over her hefty backside and thick thighs. Now the real battle began getting them to button up over her bloated belly. She pulled and pulled, just barely getting the button within a short distance of the hole, only to have her fingers lose grip. She tried this repeatedly with no better luck than before. Finally, she lay down on her bed, sucked in her gut, gripped the sides of her pants, and pulled with all her might, and by some miracle managed to get them buttoned and zipped.
Now all she had to do was button her shirt and leave. The shirt was less of a problem, but still her engorged tummy pushed them to their limits. As she looked at herself in the mirror she thought, “Better take it easy tonight, any sudden movement and I’ll burst out of these clothes like I was Bruce Banner. Hopefully this will get me some good tips though…”
