chubsixtysix
Well-Known Member
~BBW, ~~WG, Imagery - A journalist gets caught up in an interview with a former athlete turned sex kitten.
Fetishist Mag Presents An Interview With Americas Redheaded Pixie, Kikki Lynn Evans. What happened to this former Captain of the U.S. Womens Gymnastics Team, Five-Time Olympic Gold Medal Winner and twice World Champion? Beautiful, talented and charming, she went on to become Miss Louisiana and second runner up to Miss America, signed multi-million dollar contracts with Wheaties, Danskin, Nike, and Fox Sports. Little girls played with Bounce 'N Spin Kikki action dolls and their mothers wanted her trademark pixie haircut. Where has she been since dropping out of pubic view five years ago? Could she possibly be the uber round sex kitten, Miss Kikki, who has made such a splash this year posing for Penthouse and hosting the hot new HBO series Sex is for Everyone?
For all of the background work I had done before the interview, I wasnt prepared for the reality. Everything I read, all the facts I had memorized, every picture I pored over had been a flat, faint prediction of meeting Miss Kikki in person. As she would tell you herself, Miss Kikki is all that and so much more.
I was nervous about meeting such a high-profile subject as I pressed the bell to her suite at the Waldorf and started riffling through my papers for my most recent outline. Before I knew it, the door was wide open and she stood there looking up at me with a friendly smile on her face.
Looking up curiously from her petite 5' 1" viewpoint, Miss Kikki radiated confidence and sexuality of unparalleled vitality. She had enormous sexuality. Her trademark curly pixie cut provided a charming and shapely frame to her heart-shaped face. Perfectly plump, kiss-shaped lips curved into an inviting smile and broke wide open like a sunburst when she invited me in. Her whole presence was dominated by enormous, soft looking breasts supported by the largest red bustier I had ever seen. As she turned away from me, her torpedo-shaped breasts swung around to point the way into her suite.
Having lost eye contact with Miss Kikkis most dramatic asset, I took in her whole figure. A mass of ample shapes burst out from the tight embrace of her bustier. Her short cropped hair exposed a full roll cushioning her neck above creamy white bare shoulders and arms so swollen that excess flesh gushed in soft sacs hanging from her elbows and flowing out over the top of her bustier.
Below her busier, a short black spandex skirt encased a bell-shaped swell of hips so wide they brought to mind the artful curves of an old-fashioned bustle. Instead of topping the rustling folds of fabric over a hoop skirt, however, the spandex skirt surrounded the grand hips, even larger fleshy globes of a monstrously large ass and ended a mere inch down the equally thick and fleshy thighs and bulbous calves that held the larger-than-life body atop red stiletto sandals.
I was completely drawn in to the experience of watching Miss Kikki. There was so very much to this woman that taking in all the details seemed to slow time. I could see her breasts undulating as her walk gave them momentum. The flowing up and down movement was offset by the quivering skin along the crevice of her cleavage. At the same time, the mountainous landscape of her backside came to life, squashy boulders rolling along with her every step.
Seemingly unaware of her gravity-defying accomplishment, Kikki looked back over her shoulder coyly. Dont be shy, she teased.
My heart raced and I could feel myself blush. I was not supposed to react like this. My editor had given this assignment to me and not either of the two FA's on staff specifically so that I could maintain my objectivity. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself to be professional and followed her to a couch, love seat and matching divan overlooking a spectacular view of Central Park. I stood by the window, taking in the view and collecting myself to conduct my interview.
When I turned back to the subject of my interview, I saw that she had arranged herself alluringly on the divan. She had propped herself sideways with both legs up. Her thighs pushed her belly up under her bosom. Her calves and thighs created their own cleavage where they met behind her knees. I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but Miss Kikki appeared even more curvaceous than she had while standing.
I chose the near end of the couch, sat down and pulled out my laptop. I pulled up my notes but could not seem to connect the words with the woman before me.
Go on darlin, Miss Kikki encouraged. I promise not to bite.
Not needing to be asked twice, I dove in to the heart of my inquiry. I ticked off the basic well-known facts: Kikki Lynn Evans, winner of the Olympic Gold Medal for Womens All-Around Gymnastics and captain of the Gold Medal U.S. Womens Gymnastics Team, went on to Captain the University of Texas womens gymnastics team to three national championships, 2014 Miss Louisiana and second runner up to Miss America, Spokeswoman for Danskin, Lilly of France and Nike, network sports commentator. She was Americas Redheaded Pixie for over a decade before she dropped out of pubic view five years ago.
Yes sir, came the pleasantly drawled response. I was Americas Redheaded Pixie, she giggled.
And you still have that that trademark hair. Is it comforting to have at least one feature that hasnt changed at all?
Giggles bubbled up from deep in Miss Kikkis chest, causing her entire upper body to jiggle. Its not the only one, Sugar, but a lady doesnt like to say about these things, does she?
Uhm, I suppose not. Sorry about that.
Not to worry, Darlin. Im just teasin'. If I didnt keep my hair, Im not sure I would recognize myself some days. So, yes, its surely a comfort.
Perhaps we should start with the basic facts? Would you mind sharing your height and weight measurements with our readers?
Absolutely, she beamed. Ive always worked awfully hard on my figure, so its a pleasure to share my numbers. I am five feet one and one-quarter inches tall. "
Miss Kikki looked down into her bosom. She brought her chubby hands up to cup under her breasts and raised them up. She ran her hands down the ripe rolls along her sides that even an industrial strength bustier could not hide and planted them wide atop her spreading hips. Looking back up, she had a satisfied smile. I've got so much more to be proud of. Just yesterday I reached 440 pounds
Wow. I said, my human reaction overwhelming my professional drive to continue questioning.
When my pause had gone on too long, she asked me, Dont you think Im prettier now than I was then?
Not wanting to admit that her abundant mounds of creamy flesh were really not my thing, I fell back on ingrained manners when I stumbled, Wha-, well yes. Yes, maam. You sure are pretty sitting right here today.
Maam, she declared indignantly. I dont look old enough to be called maam do I? she asked, pouting like a giant Kewpie doll.
I had to laugh. Here's a gal who relishes her rolls of fat but doesn't want to be considered old; rejecting one female stereotype and embracing another. Absolutely not. You are very youthful and vibrant."
Getting back on track with my interview, I asked, "So, Kikki, I hope you don't mind but I simply HAVE to ask. All of America can remember you as an elfin teen. There is that famous shot from the Wheaties box: you in your scarlet and silver leotard, one hand on your hip and one pumping the air at the end of the all-around competition. You couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds in that shot, could you?"
Ducking her head, Kikki blushed and replied, "94 pounds that day, actually."
Pausing, I tried to glean understanding from her expression, but was stymied. He went to his file and flipped through a handful of old publicity shots. "I've never been great at guessing women's weights usually it's just bad policy to try, (they both laugh) but looking back at your college gymnastics days and your years as a sports commentator, it looks like you kept that same petite figure the whole time. No?" I handed the pile to Kikki.
Kikki flips through them and sighs. "It's true. The heaviest of these pictures is from the 2002 World Cup, where I weighed a staggering 97 pounds. But... that doesn't mean it was easy. There was always pressure to stay thin. So many of the gymnasts I trained with had serious eating disorders. My coaches restricted my food and insisted that I eat with them when I was training. I always gained a couple of pounds in the off season and had to go on a diet. For at least ten years and it seemed longer I wasn't permitted to have sweets of any sort. Not even birthday cake on my own birthday! I felt like I was being punished for something."
"No birthday cake?" I asked compassionately.
"Nope," Kikki replied wistfully. Then with a grin and wink added, "but don't worry, I've more than made up for lost time since then."
"Right," she said smiling knowingly. "How did you get started?"
"I think it was probably a box of Ring Dings."
"An excellent place to start. Do you remember whether you made a conscious decision to ditch the petite athletes body, or did your eating habits sort of make that decision for you?"
"Yes. It was an absolutely purposeful decision. I had been dreaming about it for years, actually."
"Getting fat?"
"No, not exactly dreaming about getting fat. I had been dreaming about eating the things I wanted. At first, I think I just dreamed that there would be a few cookies in my lunch box, or that my mom would insist on a cake for my birthday. As I got older, the dreams became more and more food oriented. I dreamed that I could eat all I wanted. I dreamt of parties and buffets, picnics and barbecues. There were all sorts of food and I dreamt that I ate it ALL. Nobody stopped me. Nobody sat me down to discuss the food pyramid. No vegan nutritionist popped up. In my dreams, I ate and ate and ate."
"Did you dream about the, er, consequences of all that eating?"
"Not at first, no. But as the single treats morphed into huge gluttonous binges, I thought about it, sure. Part of my dreams was this very specific experience of filling my stomach. Up until then, I don't think I'd ever eaten too much. Its hard to say, but I don't ever remember having been actually full at the end of a meal. I started dreaming about how it would feel to eat to the point of fullness, to overfullness, to actually stuffing my stomach." She closes her eyes, remembering the blissful dreams.
"When did you decide to make your dreams a reality?"
"Oh, that's easy. It was June of 2005, just after I dropped the sports commentary gig. I was at friend's wedding. She's a very private person now, so I won't name her, but she's several years older than I am and had been out of gymnastics for quite a while. She had filled out beautifully in those years and was the most gorgeous bride I'd ever seen. She had always looked ill before, with sunken cheeks and a gray complexion. She had easily put on 50 pounds, was quite plump and looked radiant; a glowing picture of health with her buxom hour glass figure. I really admired her. Looking at myself that day, I realized that I didn't want to go through life with the body of a malnourished pre-teen."
"So, just like that, you went from dieter to glutton?"
"Ha. Well, not exactly. But I definitely changed directions that day. I was there with Skip McHugh -- you remember there were always rumors that we were dating? (giggles) He was too much of a little brother to ever date."
A gay little brother at that," I agreed.
"Mmm. There is that, too," her laugh was deep and throaty.
A hungry gurgle interrupted loudly from Kikki's well-fed stomach. Patting her belly affectionately, she checked the delicate gold watch that was nestled deep in the separation between her chubby hand and meaty forearm. "Snack time. You don't mind do you?"
"Not at all," I said, eager to see this BBW indulge in her gluttony.
In a motion more graceful than I would have thought possible considering her bulk, Kikki shifted to an angle on the couch and rolled toward the delicious looking food spread out on the coffee table. Her great belly compressed into a series of rolls of fat squeezing forward. Her mammoth breasts bumped past her knees and into the table. Unbothered by her seemingly impossible position, Kikki's chubby hands worked expertly to quickly load her little plate, stacking the contents as high as the plate was wide. Rolling back up, she shifted her wide ass back so that she was once again filling the entire divan as if it had been custom built for her. One beefy arm squashed over a breast to hold the plate just above her bosom, hovering in front of her mouth. Her other arm had to reach a bit higher and further to shuttle food from her plate to her mouth.
There was no pretense of continuing the interview at this point. Every particle of Kikki's being concentrated on the present pleasure of eating. Kikki's eyes dropped closed and she started murmuring praise for her food like the retired color commentator that she was. "Oh. That's good. Mmm. Creamy. Nga. Chocolate! Mmm."
I watched in rapt delight. I found myself mesmerized by the collection of creamy mounds of flesh as Kikki's arms squeezed her breasts together and her hands worked just above the canyon of cleavage. Kikki breathed deeply, as if aroused, bouncing her mounds of chest and belly as she heaved. Kikki's plump red lips welcomed each bite as she began to chew and taste and enjoy it.
It was so much like sex, I just knew Kikki's lips and tongue had other fabulous talents. I sat up straight in surprise, realizing I was fully, painfully aroused. "Excuse me," I said, "I need to borrow your loo."
Alone, in the quiet of the luxurious hotel bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to work out what had just happened. Surely my slim fiancé would have something to say about this. I splashed cold water on my face, reminded myself that I was not a teenager and willed my arousal to calm.
By the time I returned to the sitting room, Kikki had poured herself a fresh glass of punch and was busily brushing crumbs out of her bustier. Kikki leaned back in such a way that her breasts tilted upwards. She smiled wickedly and knowingly asked me, "Everything OK there, hun?"
"Fi-ine," I fairly squeaked. I sat down, cleared my voice and asked, "Where were we?"
Smiling sweetly, Kikki answered, "I think you were going to ask me how I went about transitioning from a hard-core dieter to a professional glutton?"
Staring at Kikki's lips as she spoke, I had to think hard. "Yeah. Um, yes. Yes, can you tell me about that?"
Laughing at how she had flustered me, Kikki agreed, "Sure, sweetie. First of all, Skip and I had a blast that night at the reception. We were both such lightweights that it didn't take much. After a couple of drinks, I was eating like it was my last night on earth. I spilled my guts about how hungry I was; my dreams about food; my admiration of the bride's weight gain. He understood instantly and we had the best time that night, just pigging out to our hearts' delight." She sighed. "It was heavenly."
"It might have been limited to that one beautiful binge, but I ran into my friend the bride at a beach party in the Hamptons. She and her husband had just gotten back from their honeymoon and they were so happy it just oozed off of them. I'd had just enough to drink that I wasn't thinking too carefully about what I said, or I never would have complimented her weight gain! It's not the thing you say, is it? But I blathered away, told her I loved her curvy new look, how much healthier she looked with some weight on her. I told her I wanted my breasts to grow out of my bikini just like hers had. Can you imagine? I'm lucky she didn't slap me."
"What did she say?"
"Her husband said something into her ear and she slapped him! Then she asked if I was really interested in gaining weight, too. I told her I'd already gained 4 pounds, like that was a big deal. She laughed, then told me to gain 'whole 20 pounds' and come back and talk to her if I still wanted to gain more."
"I had no idea what we would talk about later, but I went ahead and had a blast that summer. I went to barbecues and actually ate more than a salad. I had ice cream cones, pizza, hot dogs, whatever. It turned out that I had to eat a whole LOT of good food before I gained much weight."
"The next time I saw my friend in mid-September, I'd only gained another 12 pounds, but on my little frame that had bumped me up two dress sizes from a 2 to a 6! Ha!" She laughed uncontrollably, her chubby cheeks turning pink and the loose rolls of fat rippling as she laughed.
Catching her breath, she continued, "No matter. It's all relative after all. Those 12 pounds felt major at the time. Anyway, my friend and her husband sat me down over an extra large Sicilian pie, by the way and explained that he was an FA and she was on her way to becoming a BBW. She was only medium so far -- an MBW -- she joked."
"They started inviting me to go when they went to 'do the town large' as they would say. A couple of fellows more or less adopted me because I was this pathetic little waif to them. At first gaining was hard because I just didn't have the appetite and I worked all day coaching young gymnasts. As slow as my progress was in the beginning, I was hooked. I gained 30 more pounds that first year, putting me up at a whopping 142 pounds. I was thrilled to have actual breasts, something to grab on my ass. I started dating one of the FA guys and it was easier when I ate with him more often. He was a great guy and knew all the best restaurants. With my boyfriend's help, I was up to 180 something in 2006, when he introduced me to Brian Breffner, the editor of Bigger is Better and owner of the Lotsa Women Boutiques, and... ultimately, my dear husband.
With a look of pure contentment, Kikki concluded, "That's it really. That was seven years ago. 440 pounds, six movies, a talk show and a dozen wardrobes later, and voila, here I am."
Voila, indeed. And there you have the lovely Miss Kikki, woman enough to make an FA of anyone.
MISS KIKKI THEN AND NOW
by Justin Thyme
by Justin Thyme
Fetishist Mag Presents An Interview With Americas Redheaded Pixie, Kikki Lynn Evans. What happened to this former Captain of the U.S. Womens Gymnastics Team, Five-Time Olympic Gold Medal Winner and twice World Champion? Beautiful, talented and charming, she went on to become Miss Louisiana and second runner up to Miss America, signed multi-million dollar contracts with Wheaties, Danskin, Nike, and Fox Sports. Little girls played with Bounce 'N Spin Kikki action dolls and their mothers wanted her trademark pixie haircut. Where has she been since dropping out of pubic view five years ago? Could she possibly be the uber round sex kitten, Miss Kikki, who has made such a splash this year posing for Penthouse and hosting the hot new HBO series Sex is for Everyone?
For all of the background work I had done before the interview, I wasnt prepared for the reality. Everything I read, all the facts I had memorized, every picture I pored over had been a flat, faint prediction of meeting Miss Kikki in person. As she would tell you herself, Miss Kikki is all that and so much more.
I was nervous about meeting such a high-profile subject as I pressed the bell to her suite at the Waldorf and started riffling through my papers for my most recent outline. Before I knew it, the door was wide open and she stood there looking up at me with a friendly smile on her face.
Looking up curiously from her petite 5' 1" viewpoint, Miss Kikki radiated confidence and sexuality of unparalleled vitality. She had enormous sexuality. Her trademark curly pixie cut provided a charming and shapely frame to her heart-shaped face. Perfectly plump, kiss-shaped lips curved into an inviting smile and broke wide open like a sunburst when she invited me in. Her whole presence was dominated by enormous, soft looking breasts supported by the largest red bustier I had ever seen. As she turned away from me, her torpedo-shaped breasts swung around to point the way into her suite.
Having lost eye contact with Miss Kikkis most dramatic asset, I took in her whole figure. A mass of ample shapes burst out from the tight embrace of her bustier. Her short cropped hair exposed a full roll cushioning her neck above creamy white bare shoulders and arms so swollen that excess flesh gushed in soft sacs hanging from her elbows and flowing out over the top of her bustier.
Below her busier, a short black spandex skirt encased a bell-shaped swell of hips so wide they brought to mind the artful curves of an old-fashioned bustle. Instead of topping the rustling folds of fabric over a hoop skirt, however, the spandex skirt surrounded the grand hips, even larger fleshy globes of a monstrously large ass and ended a mere inch down the equally thick and fleshy thighs and bulbous calves that held the larger-than-life body atop red stiletto sandals.
I was completely drawn in to the experience of watching Miss Kikki. There was so very much to this woman that taking in all the details seemed to slow time. I could see her breasts undulating as her walk gave them momentum. The flowing up and down movement was offset by the quivering skin along the crevice of her cleavage. At the same time, the mountainous landscape of her backside came to life, squashy boulders rolling along with her every step.
Seemingly unaware of her gravity-defying accomplishment, Kikki looked back over her shoulder coyly. Dont be shy, she teased.
My heart raced and I could feel myself blush. I was not supposed to react like this. My editor had given this assignment to me and not either of the two FA's on staff specifically so that I could maintain my objectivity. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself to be professional and followed her to a couch, love seat and matching divan overlooking a spectacular view of Central Park. I stood by the window, taking in the view and collecting myself to conduct my interview.
When I turned back to the subject of my interview, I saw that she had arranged herself alluringly on the divan. She had propped herself sideways with both legs up. Her thighs pushed her belly up under her bosom. Her calves and thighs created their own cleavage where they met behind her knees. I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but Miss Kikki appeared even more curvaceous than she had while standing.
I chose the near end of the couch, sat down and pulled out my laptop. I pulled up my notes but could not seem to connect the words with the woman before me.
Go on darlin, Miss Kikki encouraged. I promise not to bite.
Not needing to be asked twice, I dove in to the heart of my inquiry. I ticked off the basic well-known facts: Kikki Lynn Evans, winner of the Olympic Gold Medal for Womens All-Around Gymnastics and captain of the Gold Medal U.S. Womens Gymnastics Team, went on to Captain the University of Texas womens gymnastics team to three national championships, 2014 Miss Louisiana and second runner up to Miss America, Spokeswoman for Danskin, Lilly of France and Nike, network sports commentator. She was Americas Redheaded Pixie for over a decade before she dropped out of pubic view five years ago.
Yes sir, came the pleasantly drawled response. I was Americas Redheaded Pixie, she giggled.
And you still have that that trademark hair. Is it comforting to have at least one feature that hasnt changed at all?
Giggles bubbled up from deep in Miss Kikkis chest, causing her entire upper body to jiggle. Its not the only one, Sugar, but a lady doesnt like to say about these things, does she?
Uhm, I suppose not. Sorry about that.
Not to worry, Darlin. Im just teasin'. If I didnt keep my hair, Im not sure I would recognize myself some days. So, yes, its surely a comfort.
Perhaps we should start with the basic facts? Would you mind sharing your height and weight measurements with our readers?
Absolutely, she beamed. Ive always worked awfully hard on my figure, so its a pleasure to share my numbers. I am five feet one and one-quarter inches tall. "
Miss Kikki looked down into her bosom. She brought her chubby hands up to cup under her breasts and raised them up. She ran her hands down the ripe rolls along her sides that even an industrial strength bustier could not hide and planted them wide atop her spreading hips. Looking back up, she had a satisfied smile. I've got so much more to be proud of. Just yesterday I reached 440 pounds
Wow. I said, my human reaction overwhelming my professional drive to continue questioning.
When my pause had gone on too long, she asked me, Dont you think Im prettier now than I was then?
Not wanting to admit that her abundant mounds of creamy flesh were really not my thing, I fell back on ingrained manners when I stumbled, Wha-, well yes. Yes, maam. You sure are pretty sitting right here today.
Maam, she declared indignantly. I dont look old enough to be called maam do I? she asked, pouting like a giant Kewpie doll.
I had to laugh. Here's a gal who relishes her rolls of fat but doesn't want to be considered old; rejecting one female stereotype and embracing another. Absolutely not. You are very youthful and vibrant."
Getting back on track with my interview, I asked, "So, Kikki, I hope you don't mind but I simply HAVE to ask. All of America can remember you as an elfin teen. There is that famous shot from the Wheaties box: you in your scarlet and silver leotard, one hand on your hip and one pumping the air at the end of the all-around competition. You couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds in that shot, could you?"
Ducking her head, Kikki blushed and replied, "94 pounds that day, actually."
Pausing, I tried to glean understanding from her expression, but was stymied. He went to his file and flipped through a handful of old publicity shots. "I've never been great at guessing women's weights usually it's just bad policy to try, (they both laugh) but looking back at your college gymnastics days and your years as a sports commentator, it looks like you kept that same petite figure the whole time. No?" I handed the pile to Kikki.
Kikki flips through them and sighs. "It's true. The heaviest of these pictures is from the 2002 World Cup, where I weighed a staggering 97 pounds. But... that doesn't mean it was easy. There was always pressure to stay thin. So many of the gymnasts I trained with had serious eating disorders. My coaches restricted my food and insisted that I eat with them when I was training. I always gained a couple of pounds in the off season and had to go on a diet. For at least ten years and it seemed longer I wasn't permitted to have sweets of any sort. Not even birthday cake on my own birthday! I felt like I was being punished for something."
"No birthday cake?" I asked compassionately.
"Nope," Kikki replied wistfully. Then with a grin and wink added, "but don't worry, I've more than made up for lost time since then."
"Right," she said smiling knowingly. "How did you get started?"
"I think it was probably a box of Ring Dings."
"An excellent place to start. Do you remember whether you made a conscious decision to ditch the petite athletes body, or did your eating habits sort of make that decision for you?"
"Yes. It was an absolutely purposeful decision. I had been dreaming about it for years, actually."
"Getting fat?"
"No, not exactly dreaming about getting fat. I had been dreaming about eating the things I wanted. At first, I think I just dreamed that there would be a few cookies in my lunch box, or that my mom would insist on a cake for my birthday. As I got older, the dreams became more and more food oriented. I dreamed that I could eat all I wanted. I dreamt of parties and buffets, picnics and barbecues. There were all sorts of food and I dreamt that I ate it ALL. Nobody stopped me. Nobody sat me down to discuss the food pyramid. No vegan nutritionist popped up. In my dreams, I ate and ate and ate."
"Did you dream about the, er, consequences of all that eating?"
"Not at first, no. But as the single treats morphed into huge gluttonous binges, I thought about it, sure. Part of my dreams was this very specific experience of filling my stomach. Up until then, I don't think I'd ever eaten too much. Its hard to say, but I don't ever remember having been actually full at the end of a meal. I started dreaming about how it would feel to eat to the point of fullness, to overfullness, to actually stuffing my stomach." She closes her eyes, remembering the blissful dreams.
"When did you decide to make your dreams a reality?"
"Oh, that's easy. It was June of 2005, just after I dropped the sports commentary gig. I was at friend's wedding. She's a very private person now, so I won't name her, but she's several years older than I am and had been out of gymnastics for quite a while. She had filled out beautifully in those years and was the most gorgeous bride I'd ever seen. She had always looked ill before, with sunken cheeks and a gray complexion. She had easily put on 50 pounds, was quite plump and looked radiant; a glowing picture of health with her buxom hour glass figure. I really admired her. Looking at myself that day, I realized that I didn't want to go through life with the body of a malnourished pre-teen."
"So, just like that, you went from dieter to glutton?"
"Ha. Well, not exactly. But I definitely changed directions that day. I was there with Skip McHugh -- you remember there were always rumors that we were dating? (giggles) He was too much of a little brother to ever date."
A gay little brother at that," I agreed.
"Mmm. There is that, too," her laugh was deep and throaty.
A hungry gurgle interrupted loudly from Kikki's well-fed stomach. Patting her belly affectionately, she checked the delicate gold watch that was nestled deep in the separation between her chubby hand and meaty forearm. "Snack time. You don't mind do you?"
"Not at all," I said, eager to see this BBW indulge in her gluttony.
In a motion more graceful than I would have thought possible considering her bulk, Kikki shifted to an angle on the couch and rolled toward the delicious looking food spread out on the coffee table. Her great belly compressed into a series of rolls of fat squeezing forward. Her mammoth breasts bumped past her knees and into the table. Unbothered by her seemingly impossible position, Kikki's chubby hands worked expertly to quickly load her little plate, stacking the contents as high as the plate was wide. Rolling back up, she shifted her wide ass back so that she was once again filling the entire divan as if it had been custom built for her. One beefy arm squashed over a breast to hold the plate just above her bosom, hovering in front of her mouth. Her other arm had to reach a bit higher and further to shuttle food from her plate to her mouth.
There was no pretense of continuing the interview at this point. Every particle of Kikki's being concentrated on the present pleasure of eating. Kikki's eyes dropped closed and she started murmuring praise for her food like the retired color commentator that she was. "Oh. That's good. Mmm. Creamy. Nga. Chocolate! Mmm."
I watched in rapt delight. I found myself mesmerized by the collection of creamy mounds of flesh as Kikki's arms squeezed her breasts together and her hands worked just above the canyon of cleavage. Kikki breathed deeply, as if aroused, bouncing her mounds of chest and belly as she heaved. Kikki's plump red lips welcomed each bite as she began to chew and taste and enjoy it.
It was so much like sex, I just knew Kikki's lips and tongue had other fabulous talents. I sat up straight in surprise, realizing I was fully, painfully aroused. "Excuse me," I said, "I need to borrow your loo."
Alone, in the quiet of the luxurious hotel bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to work out what had just happened. Surely my slim fiancé would have something to say about this. I splashed cold water on my face, reminded myself that I was not a teenager and willed my arousal to calm.
By the time I returned to the sitting room, Kikki had poured herself a fresh glass of punch and was busily brushing crumbs out of her bustier. Kikki leaned back in such a way that her breasts tilted upwards. She smiled wickedly and knowingly asked me, "Everything OK there, hun?"
"Fi-ine," I fairly squeaked. I sat down, cleared my voice and asked, "Where were we?"
Smiling sweetly, Kikki answered, "I think you were going to ask me how I went about transitioning from a hard-core dieter to a professional glutton?"
Staring at Kikki's lips as she spoke, I had to think hard. "Yeah. Um, yes. Yes, can you tell me about that?"
Laughing at how she had flustered me, Kikki agreed, "Sure, sweetie. First of all, Skip and I had a blast that night at the reception. We were both such lightweights that it didn't take much. After a couple of drinks, I was eating like it was my last night on earth. I spilled my guts about how hungry I was; my dreams about food; my admiration of the bride's weight gain. He understood instantly and we had the best time that night, just pigging out to our hearts' delight." She sighed. "It was heavenly."
"It might have been limited to that one beautiful binge, but I ran into my friend the bride at a beach party in the Hamptons. She and her husband had just gotten back from their honeymoon and they were so happy it just oozed off of them. I'd had just enough to drink that I wasn't thinking too carefully about what I said, or I never would have complimented her weight gain! It's not the thing you say, is it? But I blathered away, told her I loved her curvy new look, how much healthier she looked with some weight on her. I told her I wanted my breasts to grow out of my bikini just like hers had. Can you imagine? I'm lucky she didn't slap me."
"What did she say?"
"Her husband said something into her ear and she slapped him! Then she asked if I was really interested in gaining weight, too. I told her I'd already gained 4 pounds, like that was a big deal. She laughed, then told me to gain 'whole 20 pounds' and come back and talk to her if I still wanted to gain more."
"I had no idea what we would talk about later, but I went ahead and had a blast that summer. I went to barbecues and actually ate more than a salad. I had ice cream cones, pizza, hot dogs, whatever. It turned out that I had to eat a whole LOT of good food before I gained much weight."
"The next time I saw my friend in mid-September, I'd only gained another 12 pounds, but on my little frame that had bumped me up two dress sizes from a 2 to a 6! Ha!" She laughed uncontrollably, her chubby cheeks turning pink and the loose rolls of fat rippling as she laughed.
Catching her breath, she continued, "No matter. It's all relative after all. Those 12 pounds felt major at the time. Anyway, my friend and her husband sat me down over an extra large Sicilian pie, by the way and explained that he was an FA and she was on her way to becoming a BBW. She was only medium so far -- an MBW -- she joked."
"They started inviting me to go when they went to 'do the town large' as they would say. A couple of fellows more or less adopted me because I was this pathetic little waif to them. At first gaining was hard because I just didn't have the appetite and I worked all day coaching young gymnasts. As slow as my progress was in the beginning, I was hooked. I gained 30 more pounds that first year, putting me up at a whopping 142 pounds. I was thrilled to have actual breasts, something to grab on my ass. I started dating one of the FA guys and it was easier when I ate with him more often. He was a great guy and knew all the best restaurants. With my boyfriend's help, I was up to 180 something in 2006, when he introduced me to Brian Breffner, the editor of Bigger is Better and owner of the Lotsa Women Boutiques, and... ultimately, my dear husband.
With a look of pure contentment, Kikki concluded, "That's it really. That was seven years ago. 440 pounds, six movies, a talk show and a dozen wardrobes later, and voila, here I am."
Voila, indeed. And there you have the lovely Miss Kikki, woman enough to make an FA of anyone.
