SSBBW, Imagery, Eating. ~SWG - an FA boyfriend quietly exploits his sweetheart's ongoing denial
Authors Note: I'd like to dedicate this to you K... you're beautiful, and your story gave me this idea. Now, only if a similiar path unfolds for you, I wouldn't mind coming along for the ride.
Getting Dressed
“You know Rico… if you can’t handle something as simple as remembering to pick up the laundry maybe I need to stick a post-it-note to your forehead?” is what my darling Tracey hollered from her bathroom.
“How sweet,” I thought to myself.
“The gods forbid she offered to pick up any of the chores instead of insulting me!” I continued before smirking and reminding myself that, if in fact Tracey’s mind was more outgoing, she wouldn’t have such trouble trying to trap her lower belly into such a tantalizingly tight pair of pants.
My special lady was, what others less understanding might call, for a lack of a kinder insult… spoiled. I had long ago come to accept this compromise. I had no problem lovingly accepting her princess diva-like attitude because, well… the rest of her had grown to my liking through our few years together.
Err, I am sorry… the rest of her personality.
I also loved Tracey’s naivety with regards to all of my “oops” and “mistakes” and “forgetful actions”. After moving in together I quickly forgot to pick up low fat milk, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, and also forgot that Tracey asked for Low Fat Frozen Yogurt and that she did not in fact ask me to pick up a couple of pints of her favorite flavors from my buddies Ben and Jerry.
Of course she wasn’t too upset with my scatter brain at the time because… let’s face it, all she had to do was go shopping herself and get the supplies that she needed. That, my friends… did not happen. Nor, did Tracey call up NY Sports Club to renew our yearly membership when I "forgot" to do so myself.
Little slip ups like this over the past few years add up I guess… and me being the “scatter brain” as Tracey likes to refer to me as… I went and pushed Tracey over the edge today by forgetting to pick up the laundry. This meant that Tracey could not wear the attire that she was hoping to wear tonight.
In her self absorbed mind she was too busy being upset about how she looked to ever assume that I was not in fact aloof, but that I did forget to pick up the laundry so that my curvy darling Tracey would wear what I wanted her to wear tonight… all this brought a smile to my face as I began to apologize to my sweetheart.
I walked into Tracey’s closet and selected my most favorite suit that she owned… not that there was ever any suit that Tracey didn’t look good in. I don’t think enough men appreciate a full figured woman in an appropriately tailored suit. When cut just right, they really can accentuate every curve. That, in fact, is just what this dark grey pinstriped suit used to do for Tracey 5 months ago when I took her shopping. Now… it did more than accentuate I guess, and I say that in the coyest of all ways.
I handed Tracey the suit top and assured her that, “Babe, I know this is your favorite suit… it really looks great on you and I’m sure that it would make you look like a knock out tonight.”
This bit of encouragemernt was ill received by a grimace on her face. I mean in the humblest of ways that my Tracey is a great gal… but, even the kindest of women with only 30 minutes to get ready for a reunion of any sorts could share some of the same facial expressions as Medusa herself… especially when she realizes that the only dressy outfit that is not tight on her luxurious body is miles away at the Dry Cleaners.
And that was just it… a reunion of sorts, is what was stressing out my baby doll. Every year since graduation my NCAA D1 soccer super star had mailed in a donation by check to her alma mater’s Womens’ Soccer Team for their annual alumni fundraiser.
This year; however, was different seeing as how the team’s coach of 20 years had passed away. Tracey always got along real well with Coach Glurkenschwein or Coach Rugmuncher as I referred to her as… may she rest in peace. Now, I may not know everything there is to know about the fairer sex, but I am certain that women want to look their best for a reunion of any sorts… and this stress was the reason for Tracey’s feistiness.
“Rico” she asked me, “Seeing as how this is your fault and that I am not very comfortable in any of my older suits, would you be a doll and run to the dry cleaners? If you move fast enough, I am certain we can still get there on time!”
This request really put me in a tight spot… and I did not want to say “No” to my darling… after all how can you say “No” to what a beautiful woman really wants?
“But babe” I began to say as I walked over to her… in her bra and panties in front of the mirror in her bathroom, just finishing her make up “I don’t see this as my entire fault”.
“Rico… what are you talking about, you forgot to….” Is what Tracey attempted to reply before I lovingly put an index finger over her lips to keep her quiet. In between gentle kisses on her neck and whilst softly squeezing what must be some of the softest love handles on this earth I said;
“Babe, I am pretty certain that you are the one that spilled Burger King Onion Ring Sauce all over your new dress because you just had to have something to nibble on while driving home from your Aunt’s birthday party last week didn’t you?”
“Well it was a long car ride home and I didn’t have any dessert” is all she could mumble as my hands began to move over more of her soft body.
“Oh I am sorry babe… I forgot you didn’t have any dessert; all I could remember was that you had both of our appetizers and my dinner as well as yours… silly me,” was my response, as I gently led her to our bed.
As soon as Tracey sat down, before she could lie on her back, I dipped down quickly to kiss the rolls that formed when she sat. This was one of my most favorite positions to see her in…. breast on top of belly, belly on top of thighs, and big fat thighs spreading out across the mattress in a race away from her body.
There was no resistance in Tracey. There wasn’t a pastry that she ever turned down since I met her and there was never a time in which she didn’t mind being pampered or pleased. As she lied down I began helping her move her thighs apart as I began to run my hands and lips up and down her lower body.
When I first met Tracey I was sort of indifferent to cellulite… not a fan, nor did I dislike it… but as the softness attached itself to her body and her lower half began to accumulate more and more cellulite so did my heart accumulate an appreciation for it.
I absolutely love how Tracey always begins to close her eyes and pull her head away almost as if to try to escape from the sensations that were taking control of her very full figured body. Playing my own sensual version of connect the dots I would move from belly to breast to inner thigh kissing and lovingly nibbling… until the last time that I went back to her inner thighs and she closed her thick lower body around my head as if to make it clear that she didn’t want me leaving that area again.
“Babe, I’m sorry… but we won’t have time for this, you need me to get the laundry bef…” were the last words that came out of my mouth before Tracey began to attempt to fumble at taking her panties off.
Like I said earlier, I can’t say “No” to a beautiful woman… in my mind, she no longer wanted me to get the laundry… she needed me for something far more important.
The Ride
I never did the laundry.
Instead I found myself holding the passenger door open so that my voluptuous babe could circumnavigate the correct triangulation to just plop herself onto the passenger seat without having to exert too much effort to lower herself. Tracey did just that and I waited for her to get comfortable before closing the door… the door that I would be jealous of for the entire ride because of its proximity to Tracey’s thigh.
My lovely girlfriend had decided to wear the clothing that I suggested and I was reminded of just how sexy her curvy body was. As a man I lack the correct vernacular to describe women’s clothing… but I am certain what my love was wearing under her suit top was a decorated dress brassiere. It was the type of clothing article that did go over a bra, but still helped to push up cleavage and was just a very sexy contrast to what should be a formal suit.
Her suit top was buttoned at the chest, but not below seeing as how she was seated. Man she looked so hot… maybe because the suit top seemed comically small while she was seated. Below her breasts, the bottom of the suit was wide open and I could see her belly expanding behind her fancy brassiere-get-up. The stripes of her suit matched the decorative stitching of what she was wearing underneath perfectly; it is quite a blessing that I have such a stylish babe on my arm. Her belt had disappeared along with the waist of her pants between the roll that was formed by her upper and lower sections of her sexy tummy.
I was letting the engine warm up, in spite of the 75 degree weather just to take in the beautiful site. After all, it is really a shame to get into a fender bender because you were too busy staring at the beauty filling up the seat next to you. We didn’t make it very far before I reminded Tracey about the fact that she said the catering hall that was our destination really didn’t have food up to her expectations the last time she was there. It really didn’t seem to affect Tracey until I kept going on about how much I know she hates poorly prepared food.
It only took a few minutes of reminiscing before my sweetheart asked if I wouldn’t mind spinning through the Wendy’s drive thru where she ordered a snack to ensure that she wouldn’t starve. There were a few too many cars on line though, so I volunteered to go inside… I didn’t mind, anything for my angel.
It was quite enjoyable to watch the fabric on her sleeves stretch to the limit every time she brought a chicken nugget or French fry up to her lips. I’ve always been so turned on by Tracey’s soft upper arms. They’d been the target of many kisses from my attentive lips during our time together. Any semblance of muscle tone had been lost long ago, and the sleeves of her suit top were truly being tested.
As Tracey picked up her drink she quickly realized that it was not diet soda, but in fact it was a Wendy’s frosty. I apologized quickly for not checking the contents and cursed the Wendy’s worker for messing up the order. I guess Tracey didn’t need to know that I intentionally ordered the shake. Some could contend that I was an evil person for supplying these extra calories, but I merely would place a tasty treat in front of her, she was in no obligation to wolf down her frosty like it was going to detonate if she didn’t.
In between sips Tracey began to tell me about all of her former teammates that she was excited to see again. She seemed so nervous, so I lovingly placed my hand on her left thigh. Tracey’s incredibly thick thighs filled the seat so well and certainly stretched the semi-stretchy fabric to an imminent end.
During our trip I used my gentle roving hand to relax her the best that I could. I’ve always enjoyed being able to easily fit my hand between the small of her back and whatever seat she may be in because of how all the junk in her trunk stuck out that much further than her back when she sat. She did from time to time push my hand back to her thigh as it either tried to slip down the back of her pants or up to her little belly over hang. The best is, she would just place my hand back to her thighs without commenting on me squeezing her soft body. I knew that as much as Tracey enjoyed my attention, her ego did not like to openly admit just how much woman she was.
When we finally arrived at the Surf Club I did my best to jump out of my car and beat the Valet to the passenger door so that I could help my babe out, like a gentleman. After holding Tracey’s hand while she exited the car, I stood in front of her so that she could adjust her top and pants to hide as much of her excessive voluptuousness that wiggled its way out while my abundant babe was seated. It was at this point that I excitingly noticed just how visible her lower belly was below her pants. Although it did not hang very far down it was noticeable enough thanks to how tight this suit had become on her and it was something I certainly enjoyed seeing.
“Babe, that wasn’t such a bad car ride, was it?” I asked.
“Well, at least I didn’t spill anything on my self” was her snippy reply, “I can’t wait to just get this over with.”
I shut the door behind her and allowed her to waddle just a few feet in front of me so that I could enjoy her bodacious booty bounce and jiggle away from me.
The Affair
There are some gifted socializers so poised to seem affluent beyond all other guests at a function that not even meeting someone who had litterly risen from the dead would shock their system… these people were the one’s that didn’t even miss a beat after seeing Tracey for the first time in a few years.
The rest of the guests, by contrast, seemed as if they would have been impressed by a four-leaf clover let alone a former 140 pound collegiate soccer star that is now in the 370 pound ball park. Now, by no means was anyone rude, but certainly… they were shocked.
To be quite honest, it is understandable. After all, when I had met Tracey she had told me had gained about 15 pounds from her playing days… mainly because, since she stopped playing due to an injury, she just couldn’t put any strain on her knee. She blamed some girl, Mimi something or other, for an intentional dirty play that took her out.
Tracey was such a knock out then, and well… is just a heavyweight knock out now. I really thought she was beautiful… aside from already thick arms and a very jiggly booty Tracey wasn’t fat at all. Now, well, my bountiful beauty is super sized and although I thought she was so beautiful when I first met her… I still have to pinch myself from time to time to ensure that I’m not dreaming.
Everyone was being very nice to Tracey at the function. After initial disbelief at her size, Tracey was easily the largest person in the room, conversations with friends and coaches carried on as if Tracey and her friends still had soccer practice twice a day, five days a week. I did my part of shaking hands and kissing cheeks, while more importantly making sure Tracey didn’t miss one hors d'oeuvres or appetizer that were being passed around while she was catching up with old friends.
Pigs in a blanket, miniature mozzarella sticks, small lumpcrabcakes, hot Italian sausage wrapped in pancetta, and baby rack of lamb all found a home in my sweetheart’s tummy. I truly enjoyed just collecting these items from passing waiters and waitresses and handing them off one by one to my babe who didn’t even seem to realize what a large meal she was making out of appetizers while she was conversing.
The room we were in was capable of holding up to 300 guests and it seemed to be a sold out affair. There were no assigned seating and Tracey informed me that we would be sitting at a table with her closest friends from the team. I pulled a chair out for Tracey and immediately realized that my love’s thighs would be hanging way over the edges of the chair that seemed as if it would be engulfed by only one of her round cheeks. I pulled my chair up as close to her as possible so that I could keep a hand on her thigh as a sign of closeness and support during her night.
Everyone had a choice of pasta and an entrée from a fixed menu. Tracey chose penne a la vodka as her pasta and shrimp scampi as her entrée and I chose the same. Once at the table I was sure to make sure my babe didn’t have to get up to go to the bar. During my bar trips I would also take a look at some of the prizes featured in the silent auction. There was your typical sports memorabilia, silly collector items, and tickets to sport events and Broadway shows. I was really interested in bidding on tickets to Yankee Stadium opening day, but I realized Tracey would have trouble fitting into one of the Stadium’s seats.
Tracey really was wrapped up in reminiscing with her friends and I was all too happy to listen in on the stories. What I did learn through my eavesdropping was that the dirty play that ended her soccer career came in an inter-team scrimmage and that most of her teammates at the time felt this Mimi girl did it on purpose. While being a good partner for my beautiful girlfriend I ensured that there was always a piece of foccacia bread or plain buttered bread on her bread plate, just incase she had something to nibble on. Although Tracey seemed a little too absorbed in conversation she would lovingly look at me and smile whenever she realized her almost empty drink or empty bread plate had being caringly replenished by me.
It was a real shame that the liquor was killing my appetite, when ironically it was only making Tracey more ravished. It did work out well though, almost as if it had been planned by, oh I don’t know… me? I hardly touched my pasta and shrimp, and Tracey moved straight from her plates to mine. Good company, free flowing wine, and abundant portions were filling Tracey’s night… and Tracey was certainly filling out her clothing. Right in the middle of a huge forkful of penne saw two hands gently rest on Tracey’s shoulder.
“Tracey? Sandra told me you changed but, my oh my, well… I guess you haven’t been playing soccer any more have you?” was the introduction from this tall and thin woman. This woman then sat down in a seat that was momentarily unoccupied at our table.
“Hello Mimi” Tracey said in a pretty begrudged voice. “Rico, this is Mimi… she was on the “B” team my senior year… Mimi, this is my boyfriend Rico.”
This snippy introduction from Tracey was retorted by Mimi before I even had a chance to say hello.
“Hello Rico, a pleasure I’m sure… I was on the B team correct Tracey, but after your injury they did bump me up. Whatever did happen to you after your injury? Did you stop playing soccer… it is a real shame, you were such an athlete?” Mimi asked, with such a false look of naivety. I was beginning to enjoy this exchange.
“Well Mimi, after you took me out, yes… I did stop playing. You caused so much damage to my knee!” Tracey said slurring her words just a little bit. I guess the wine was catching up. As Mimi was about to say something I realized that Tracey was trying to finish up the last bits of pasta, I thought that was so cute.
“I played hard then Tracey and I still do now… I haven’t gotten soft over the years.”
Tracey and Mimi didn’t say much after that. Tracey said her goodbyes to her friends and reassured them that she would keep in touch.
Tracey did not say much in the car for quite some time… until she asked if we could stop at a Taco Bell seeing as how we didn’t stay for dessert. My sweet-toothed sweetheart loves her caramel-apple empanadas from Taco Bell. She bit into her first of four and just had a relaxed sensation wash over her soft body.
“So Rico” she began in between mouthfuls of the sugary-fried dessert “That was the bitch that made me fat”.
I didn’t have a verbal response to that…I’d save my response for the bedroom.
Authors Note: I'd like to dedicate this to you K... you're beautiful, and your story gave me this idea. Now, only if a similiar path unfolds for you, I wouldn't mind coming along for the ride.
She Did This to Me
by Made FA
by Made FA
Getting Dressed
“You know Rico… if you can’t handle something as simple as remembering to pick up the laundry maybe I need to stick a post-it-note to your forehead?” is what my darling Tracey hollered from her bathroom.
“How sweet,” I thought to myself.
“The gods forbid she offered to pick up any of the chores instead of insulting me!” I continued before smirking and reminding myself that, if in fact Tracey’s mind was more outgoing, she wouldn’t have such trouble trying to trap her lower belly into such a tantalizingly tight pair of pants.
My special lady was, what others less understanding might call, for a lack of a kinder insult… spoiled. I had long ago come to accept this compromise. I had no problem lovingly accepting her princess diva-like attitude because, well… the rest of her had grown to my liking through our few years together.
Err, I am sorry… the rest of her personality.
I also loved Tracey’s naivety with regards to all of my “oops” and “mistakes” and “forgetful actions”. After moving in together I quickly forgot to pick up low fat milk, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, and also forgot that Tracey asked for Low Fat Frozen Yogurt and that she did not in fact ask me to pick up a couple of pints of her favorite flavors from my buddies Ben and Jerry.
Of course she wasn’t too upset with my scatter brain at the time because… let’s face it, all she had to do was go shopping herself and get the supplies that she needed. That, my friends… did not happen. Nor, did Tracey call up NY Sports Club to renew our yearly membership when I "forgot" to do so myself.
Little slip ups like this over the past few years add up I guess… and me being the “scatter brain” as Tracey likes to refer to me as… I went and pushed Tracey over the edge today by forgetting to pick up the laundry. This meant that Tracey could not wear the attire that she was hoping to wear tonight.
In her self absorbed mind she was too busy being upset about how she looked to ever assume that I was not in fact aloof, but that I did forget to pick up the laundry so that my curvy darling Tracey would wear what I wanted her to wear tonight… all this brought a smile to my face as I began to apologize to my sweetheart.
I walked into Tracey’s closet and selected my most favorite suit that she owned… not that there was ever any suit that Tracey didn’t look good in. I don’t think enough men appreciate a full figured woman in an appropriately tailored suit. When cut just right, they really can accentuate every curve. That, in fact, is just what this dark grey pinstriped suit used to do for Tracey 5 months ago when I took her shopping. Now… it did more than accentuate I guess, and I say that in the coyest of all ways.
I handed Tracey the suit top and assured her that, “Babe, I know this is your favorite suit… it really looks great on you and I’m sure that it would make you look like a knock out tonight.”
This bit of encouragemernt was ill received by a grimace on her face. I mean in the humblest of ways that my Tracey is a great gal… but, even the kindest of women with only 30 minutes to get ready for a reunion of any sorts could share some of the same facial expressions as Medusa herself… especially when she realizes that the only dressy outfit that is not tight on her luxurious body is miles away at the Dry Cleaners.
And that was just it… a reunion of sorts, is what was stressing out my baby doll. Every year since graduation my NCAA D1 soccer super star had mailed in a donation by check to her alma mater’s Womens’ Soccer Team for their annual alumni fundraiser.
This year; however, was different seeing as how the team’s coach of 20 years had passed away. Tracey always got along real well with Coach Glurkenschwein or Coach Rugmuncher as I referred to her as… may she rest in peace. Now, I may not know everything there is to know about the fairer sex, but I am certain that women want to look their best for a reunion of any sorts… and this stress was the reason for Tracey’s feistiness.
“Rico” she asked me, “Seeing as how this is your fault and that I am not very comfortable in any of my older suits, would you be a doll and run to the dry cleaners? If you move fast enough, I am certain we can still get there on time!”
This request really put me in a tight spot… and I did not want to say “No” to my darling… after all how can you say “No” to what a beautiful woman really wants?
“But babe” I began to say as I walked over to her… in her bra and panties in front of the mirror in her bathroom, just finishing her make up “I don’t see this as my entire fault”.
“Rico… what are you talking about, you forgot to….” Is what Tracey attempted to reply before I lovingly put an index finger over her lips to keep her quiet. In between gentle kisses on her neck and whilst softly squeezing what must be some of the softest love handles on this earth I said;
“Babe, I am pretty certain that you are the one that spilled Burger King Onion Ring Sauce all over your new dress because you just had to have something to nibble on while driving home from your Aunt’s birthday party last week didn’t you?”
“Well it was a long car ride home and I didn’t have any dessert” is all she could mumble as my hands began to move over more of her soft body.
“Oh I am sorry babe… I forgot you didn’t have any dessert; all I could remember was that you had both of our appetizers and my dinner as well as yours… silly me,” was my response, as I gently led her to our bed.
As soon as Tracey sat down, before she could lie on her back, I dipped down quickly to kiss the rolls that formed when she sat. This was one of my most favorite positions to see her in…. breast on top of belly, belly on top of thighs, and big fat thighs spreading out across the mattress in a race away from her body.
There was no resistance in Tracey. There wasn’t a pastry that she ever turned down since I met her and there was never a time in which she didn’t mind being pampered or pleased. As she lied down I began helping her move her thighs apart as I began to run my hands and lips up and down her lower body.
When I first met Tracey I was sort of indifferent to cellulite… not a fan, nor did I dislike it… but as the softness attached itself to her body and her lower half began to accumulate more and more cellulite so did my heart accumulate an appreciation for it.
I absolutely love how Tracey always begins to close her eyes and pull her head away almost as if to try to escape from the sensations that were taking control of her very full figured body. Playing my own sensual version of connect the dots I would move from belly to breast to inner thigh kissing and lovingly nibbling… until the last time that I went back to her inner thighs and she closed her thick lower body around my head as if to make it clear that she didn’t want me leaving that area again.
“Babe, I’m sorry… but we won’t have time for this, you need me to get the laundry bef…” were the last words that came out of my mouth before Tracey began to attempt to fumble at taking her panties off.
Like I said earlier, I can’t say “No” to a beautiful woman… in my mind, she no longer wanted me to get the laundry… she needed me for something far more important.
The Ride
I never did the laundry.
Instead I found myself holding the passenger door open so that my voluptuous babe could circumnavigate the correct triangulation to just plop herself onto the passenger seat without having to exert too much effort to lower herself. Tracey did just that and I waited for her to get comfortable before closing the door… the door that I would be jealous of for the entire ride because of its proximity to Tracey’s thigh.
My lovely girlfriend had decided to wear the clothing that I suggested and I was reminded of just how sexy her curvy body was. As a man I lack the correct vernacular to describe women’s clothing… but I am certain what my love was wearing under her suit top was a decorated dress brassiere. It was the type of clothing article that did go over a bra, but still helped to push up cleavage and was just a very sexy contrast to what should be a formal suit.
Her suit top was buttoned at the chest, but not below seeing as how she was seated. Man she looked so hot… maybe because the suit top seemed comically small while she was seated. Below her breasts, the bottom of the suit was wide open and I could see her belly expanding behind her fancy brassiere-get-up. The stripes of her suit matched the decorative stitching of what she was wearing underneath perfectly; it is quite a blessing that I have such a stylish babe on my arm. Her belt had disappeared along with the waist of her pants between the roll that was formed by her upper and lower sections of her sexy tummy.
I was letting the engine warm up, in spite of the 75 degree weather just to take in the beautiful site. After all, it is really a shame to get into a fender bender because you were too busy staring at the beauty filling up the seat next to you. We didn’t make it very far before I reminded Tracey about the fact that she said the catering hall that was our destination really didn’t have food up to her expectations the last time she was there. It really didn’t seem to affect Tracey until I kept going on about how much I know she hates poorly prepared food.
It only took a few minutes of reminiscing before my sweetheart asked if I wouldn’t mind spinning through the Wendy’s drive thru where she ordered a snack to ensure that she wouldn’t starve. There were a few too many cars on line though, so I volunteered to go inside… I didn’t mind, anything for my angel.
It was quite enjoyable to watch the fabric on her sleeves stretch to the limit every time she brought a chicken nugget or French fry up to her lips. I’ve always been so turned on by Tracey’s soft upper arms. They’d been the target of many kisses from my attentive lips during our time together. Any semblance of muscle tone had been lost long ago, and the sleeves of her suit top were truly being tested.
As Tracey picked up her drink she quickly realized that it was not diet soda, but in fact it was a Wendy’s frosty. I apologized quickly for not checking the contents and cursed the Wendy’s worker for messing up the order. I guess Tracey didn’t need to know that I intentionally ordered the shake. Some could contend that I was an evil person for supplying these extra calories, but I merely would place a tasty treat in front of her, she was in no obligation to wolf down her frosty like it was going to detonate if she didn’t.
In between sips Tracey began to tell me about all of her former teammates that she was excited to see again. She seemed so nervous, so I lovingly placed my hand on her left thigh. Tracey’s incredibly thick thighs filled the seat so well and certainly stretched the semi-stretchy fabric to an imminent end.
During our trip I used my gentle roving hand to relax her the best that I could. I’ve always enjoyed being able to easily fit my hand between the small of her back and whatever seat she may be in because of how all the junk in her trunk stuck out that much further than her back when she sat. She did from time to time push my hand back to her thigh as it either tried to slip down the back of her pants or up to her little belly over hang. The best is, she would just place my hand back to her thighs without commenting on me squeezing her soft body. I knew that as much as Tracey enjoyed my attention, her ego did not like to openly admit just how much woman she was.
When we finally arrived at the Surf Club I did my best to jump out of my car and beat the Valet to the passenger door so that I could help my babe out, like a gentleman. After holding Tracey’s hand while she exited the car, I stood in front of her so that she could adjust her top and pants to hide as much of her excessive voluptuousness that wiggled its way out while my abundant babe was seated. It was at this point that I excitingly noticed just how visible her lower belly was below her pants. Although it did not hang very far down it was noticeable enough thanks to how tight this suit had become on her and it was something I certainly enjoyed seeing.
“Babe, that wasn’t such a bad car ride, was it?” I asked.
“Well, at least I didn’t spill anything on my self” was her snippy reply, “I can’t wait to just get this over with.”
I shut the door behind her and allowed her to waddle just a few feet in front of me so that I could enjoy her bodacious booty bounce and jiggle away from me.
The Affair
There are some gifted socializers so poised to seem affluent beyond all other guests at a function that not even meeting someone who had litterly risen from the dead would shock their system… these people were the one’s that didn’t even miss a beat after seeing Tracey for the first time in a few years.
The rest of the guests, by contrast, seemed as if they would have been impressed by a four-leaf clover let alone a former 140 pound collegiate soccer star that is now in the 370 pound ball park. Now, by no means was anyone rude, but certainly… they were shocked.
To be quite honest, it is understandable. After all, when I had met Tracey she had told me had gained about 15 pounds from her playing days… mainly because, since she stopped playing due to an injury, she just couldn’t put any strain on her knee. She blamed some girl, Mimi something or other, for an intentional dirty play that took her out.
Tracey was such a knock out then, and well… is just a heavyweight knock out now. I really thought she was beautiful… aside from already thick arms and a very jiggly booty Tracey wasn’t fat at all. Now, well, my bountiful beauty is super sized and although I thought she was so beautiful when I first met her… I still have to pinch myself from time to time to ensure that I’m not dreaming.
Everyone was being very nice to Tracey at the function. After initial disbelief at her size, Tracey was easily the largest person in the room, conversations with friends and coaches carried on as if Tracey and her friends still had soccer practice twice a day, five days a week. I did my part of shaking hands and kissing cheeks, while more importantly making sure Tracey didn’t miss one hors d'oeuvres or appetizer that were being passed around while she was catching up with old friends.
Pigs in a blanket, miniature mozzarella sticks, small lumpcrabcakes, hot Italian sausage wrapped in pancetta, and baby rack of lamb all found a home in my sweetheart’s tummy. I truly enjoyed just collecting these items from passing waiters and waitresses and handing them off one by one to my babe who didn’t even seem to realize what a large meal she was making out of appetizers while she was conversing.
The room we were in was capable of holding up to 300 guests and it seemed to be a sold out affair. There were no assigned seating and Tracey informed me that we would be sitting at a table with her closest friends from the team. I pulled a chair out for Tracey and immediately realized that my love’s thighs would be hanging way over the edges of the chair that seemed as if it would be engulfed by only one of her round cheeks. I pulled my chair up as close to her as possible so that I could keep a hand on her thigh as a sign of closeness and support during her night.
Everyone had a choice of pasta and an entrée from a fixed menu. Tracey chose penne a la vodka as her pasta and shrimp scampi as her entrée and I chose the same. Once at the table I was sure to make sure my babe didn’t have to get up to go to the bar. During my bar trips I would also take a look at some of the prizes featured in the silent auction. There was your typical sports memorabilia, silly collector items, and tickets to sport events and Broadway shows. I was really interested in bidding on tickets to Yankee Stadium opening day, but I realized Tracey would have trouble fitting into one of the Stadium’s seats.
Tracey really was wrapped up in reminiscing with her friends and I was all too happy to listen in on the stories. What I did learn through my eavesdropping was that the dirty play that ended her soccer career came in an inter-team scrimmage and that most of her teammates at the time felt this Mimi girl did it on purpose. While being a good partner for my beautiful girlfriend I ensured that there was always a piece of foccacia bread or plain buttered bread on her bread plate, just incase she had something to nibble on. Although Tracey seemed a little too absorbed in conversation she would lovingly look at me and smile whenever she realized her almost empty drink or empty bread plate had being caringly replenished by me.
It was a real shame that the liquor was killing my appetite, when ironically it was only making Tracey more ravished. It did work out well though, almost as if it had been planned by, oh I don’t know… me? I hardly touched my pasta and shrimp, and Tracey moved straight from her plates to mine. Good company, free flowing wine, and abundant portions were filling Tracey’s night… and Tracey was certainly filling out her clothing. Right in the middle of a huge forkful of penne saw two hands gently rest on Tracey’s shoulder.
“Tracey? Sandra told me you changed but, my oh my, well… I guess you haven’t been playing soccer any more have you?” was the introduction from this tall and thin woman. This woman then sat down in a seat that was momentarily unoccupied at our table.
“Hello Mimi” Tracey said in a pretty begrudged voice. “Rico, this is Mimi… she was on the “B” team my senior year… Mimi, this is my boyfriend Rico.”
This snippy introduction from Tracey was retorted by Mimi before I even had a chance to say hello.
“Hello Rico, a pleasure I’m sure… I was on the B team correct Tracey, but after your injury they did bump me up. Whatever did happen to you after your injury? Did you stop playing soccer… it is a real shame, you were such an athlete?” Mimi asked, with such a false look of naivety. I was beginning to enjoy this exchange.
“Well Mimi, after you took me out, yes… I did stop playing. You caused so much damage to my knee!” Tracey said slurring her words just a little bit. I guess the wine was catching up. As Mimi was about to say something I realized that Tracey was trying to finish up the last bits of pasta, I thought that was so cute.
“I played hard then Tracey and I still do now… I haven’t gotten soft over the years.”
Tracey and Mimi didn’t say much after that. Tracey said her goodbyes to her friends and reassured them that she would keep in touch.
Tracey did not say much in the car for quite some time… until she asked if we could stop at a Taco Bell seeing as how we didn’t stay for dessert. My sweet-toothed sweetheart loves her caramel-apple empanadas from Taco Bell. She bit into her first of four and just had a relaxed sensation wash over her soft body.
“So Rico” she began in between mouthfuls of the sugary-fried dessert “That was the bitch that made me fat”.
I didn’t have a verbal response to that…I’d save my response for the bedroom.
