Tara 11: Desserts - By Id (~BBW, Romance, Eating, ~SWG)

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~BBW, Romance, Eating, ~SWG - The final installment of the series that started the entire RFK girls series.

Tara 11: Desserts
By Id

(For the prior installment of this series, click here)


Tara’s water polo practices weren’t open for people to come and watch, so a lot of what follows I gathered from talking to Tara and the other girls on the team. The women’s water polo coach (who for some reason was one of the male teachers at the school rather than one of the women) was, as I’d feared, bound and determined to slim his team down for the playoffs. They were seeded third in the division, which was a major accomplishment in recent history for RFK High. The high school had traditionally been competitive in only field hockey, and in recent years the women’s volleyball team had begun to dominate and to a lesser degree men’s lacrosse as well. Therefore, to have finally found success in women’s water polo was a big deal, if only because it was unprecedented. Determined not to let the opportunity to finally put a championship under his belt, Coach had decided that he needed to whip his team into shape.

“If all this practice actually causes one of the big girls to lose weight, I’ll be amazed,” Tara confided in me the day after what we’d dubbed Project Polo Plumper began, “Trust me, you’re not going to see Tina, Jenna, or Lynn losing any of their flab, or any of the other girls for that matter. The ones who aren’t fat like Morgan haven’t got any weight to lose. Those who could lose some weight probably eat enough to offset any benefit the workout would have for them, like with me. I don’t know if that’s true for everyone, but just watch.”

“I believe you,” I said. Tara had been doing this for the last two years after all, and the newly meaty girls on the team hadn’t lost their corpulence from an entire season of regular practices and games, so what Tara said would almost certainly turn out to be true. I will admit now that I feel rather sheepish to have ever panicked about the situation to begin with, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary for me.

“Tell you what, let’s make this interesting. Any tubby girl who we can substantiate actually lost weight at the end of the practices we’ll take to a buffet,” Tara said.

The suggestion took me by surprise, but a very good sort of surprise. In fact, my mind began spinning with the possibilities. Remember that song by Jan and Dean called “Surf City” and the iconic lyric “Two girls for every guy”? Well that’s precisely what went through my head. As much as I loved Tara, the thought of her <I>and</I> another girl—perhaps Tina, or better yet Jenna—at a buffet stuffing themselves full with all sorts of delicious, fattening foods ran through my head. However, pulling myself back to the conversation at hand and controlling my enthusiasm, I simply said to Tara, “Sounds like a great idea.”

“Maybe, but don’t get your hopes up quite yet,” Tara said.

I never took that piece of advice.

***

After the first three days of practice, Coach didn’t find much improvement in his team and the fact was more than annoying to him. I’m sure there was nothing malicious about his desire to get the team to drop some collective weight. Thin equaled fit in his mind, as it does for so many people. Never mind the fact the team had been tubby all season long and had done well. They needed to shape up now that “things were serious”.

The lack of improvement caused Coach to step up his exercise regimen for the following practices. Had the team practiced all day long until their arms and legs fell off, it might have made a dent. But school kept him from starting until the afternoon, and even then they could only go three hours at best, for parents would complain if the girls were kept too long and missed dinner or couldn’t get to their evening jobs. Try as he might to intensify the practices in those three hours to burn as many calories as possible, time had to be devoted to scrimmaging and practicing particular skills. Though this of course required effort, it wasn’t the same as giving endless laps and other conditioning exercises that could hopefully drop some calories. Furthermore, he didn’t want to work girls like Morgan and Katie into a state of exhaustion, but he couldn’t just single out the fatties for extra laps—a move he was well aware could open him up to major criticism, if not trouble from the school administration despite the fact that they “obviously needed to lose some weight, as any reasonable person would admit”. Or so Coach told himself.

Though he could swim them into the ground, nothing Coach could do in practice could get the girls to modify what they ate at home. Though he wanted them slimmer, he couldn’t stop Jenna from immediately going from practice to McDonald’s for a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, extra large fries, and giant soda. Nor could he make Tina choose the salad rather than the country fried steak during her shift at Chili’s that evening. Coach would have been appalled, but powerless to stop, Lynn from eating a box and a half of Twinkies for dessert with Tony after a particularly delicious dinner at the Phan household. Nina was stopping at the Alpine Bakery after every practice and taking home at least a dozen, if not two, assorted donuts (and she usually had three or four while she picked them out). And the workouts had been so rough that Chelsea was taking extra portions at family dinners because she was “just so hungry after these long practices,” as she’d tell her family as she scooped some more mashed potatoes.

Tara was one girl who definitely wasn’t eating what Coach would have wanted. As part of our pact, we gathered nightly after we’d both had dinner for dessert. Now, dessert for you or me would conjure up an image of ice cream, a slice of pie or cake, some cookies, perhaps a bit of chocolate. Tara’s dessert was all three of these at an absolute minimum.

The first night of Project Polo Plumper found me giddy with excitement. I traveled to the Kelly household and was warmly greeted by Tara, who led me upstairs with barely enough time to say hello to her parents. Just going up a flight of stairs quickly with Tara was exciting in itself, for she bounced and jiggled quite a bit in her hurry. As I watched her luscious flab undulate in front of me as she preceded me up the stairs, I reflected that the best part of it was knowing that there was a similar scene in store when Tara came back down the stairs again. I was determined to have a good view of the event when it occurred.

Tara quickly closeted the both of us in her room where she unveiled a small cooler in which she’d kept cold a carton of ice cream. On top of her dresser was a slice of warm apple pie and a bag of Dove chocolates. On the last item, Tara had long ago converted me to the excellence of Dove milk chocolate as the best chocolate out there. Now, Tara was obviously not the sort of girl to ever turn down any sort of chocolate, but if she had her say in the matter and wasn’t going to get something distinctive like See’s Candy pineapple truffles or chocolate dipped strawberries, Tara always went for the Dove chocolates.

“All I had to do was casually mention to Mom yesterday that I’d really had a hankering for some apple pie recently and then one magically showed up on the kitchen counter today!” Tara said with a bright smile as she took the piece of scrumptious pie out of the cooler.

“There are days I don’t know who I love more: you or your Mom,” I said, and quickly added, “but it’s always you.” A quick kiss on Tara’s soft cheek helped to punctuate my point.

“Good answer lover boy,” Tara said.

Tara scooped out two large mounds of vanilla ice cream and placed one on each side of the slice of apple pie. With me at her side Tara sat back on her bed and began to eat the gooey apple pie and the cold ice cream together. I nuzzled next to Tara, reveling in watching her lift forkful after forkful into her eager, waiting mouth. As each morsel passed through her sweet lips I was entranced. I clung closer to her warm, soft curves, one hand gently massaging her tummy as it was slowly filled with delectable pie and ice cream. It was a fantasy I’d never even dared to dream before the school year had began—to be holding Tara while she willingly ate wonderfully fattening desserts for our joint pleasure…it was more than a dream come true. It was almost a miracle.

“Mmmmmmm…” Tara moaned softly as she finished off the slice of pie.

“That looks so good,” I said breathlessly.

“Well then let me just go get you a piece,” Tara said, getting up from her bed, “We’ve got plenty more down there.”
<P> “No, no, you don’t have to,” I said. I didn’t want to lose a moment of having Tara’s soft, chubby body against me as she filled her belly with heavenly delights.

Despite my protest, Tara bounded off and returned shortly—with two pieces of pie. “Thought since I was down there I might as well get one for myself too,” she said with a big grin.

I only loved her the more for her innocent design.

Tara and I now sat on her bed with me against her headboard and Tara’s bulk cradled between my legs, my arms reaching around her. Though it made eating pie a little difficult for me (and I had to wipe some filling off my face before the endeavor was over), it made rubbing and fondling Tara’s mammoth spare tire and all her other curves much easier. I know I definitely enjoyed myself as Tara dove into the remainder of the carton of ice cream.

“I don’t know why we waited until now to get such a dynamite idea as this,” Tara said to me when she finished off the ice cream.

“Ummm…because your mother would get suspicious if you went through a box of ice cream every three days?” I suggested.

“I have before and she’s never said a word,” Tara said with a smile.

“No way,” I said, “Not even an uneasy look?”

“Not a blink of an eye.”

“And your Mom’s not even fat. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t think she’d…you know, be cool with it,” I said.

Tara shrugged. “I think she’s just happy I’m happy with who I am.”

“And well you should be, seeing as how you’re so hot and all,” I replied, giving Tara a kiss and a squeeze before she dove into the Dove chocolates.

Our nightly sessions of Project Polo Plumper are vividly emblazoned on my mind, but like the best memories, fail to have the same force when put into words. I cannot do them justice, but can only dutifully report the parade of pie, cake, ice cream, chocolate, cookies, milkshakes, and other fattening delight that Tara consumed in my presence to stave off even the slightest weight loss.

However, the night that Tara tackled a chocolate cake her mother had made (there was never a shortage of desserts in that household, though as the Kellys had said earlier none of them ever lasted long) was particularly memorable. I arrived at Tara’s house that Friday with great anticipation. Our nightly meetings were now the highlight of my week. It was torture not being able to talk to anyone about such a wonderful event. Sure, other couples could talk about holding hands or making out, but it would have been weird to even mention to Tom that I was enjoying watching Tara stuff herself with desserts specifically to avoid losing weight, and probably watching her gain.

Needless to say, Tara didn’t down an entire cake in one sitting. There were frequent breaks to let herself digest, helped along by my tummy massages. I’ve never been able to tell if they ever really helped, but I enjoyed gently working my fingers over Tara’s full belly so much that I didn’t much care.

I can’t tell which I enjoyed more—massaging Tara or watching her as she ate that cake. Each forkful was lifted deliberately to her mouth and chewed over slowly with deliberation. Tara didn’t stuff herself silly, shoveling in cake as fast she could, but slowly, so as to enjoy every morsel. It was, without question, more arousing to watch Tara taste every morsel than it would have been to have her stuff herself silly. That cake epitomized Tara’s mindset regarding eating and her weight as a whole. It wasn’t about stuffing herself as large as she could get. What it was about was enjoying herself and being happy with the fact that indulgence meant she wasn’t a size 6. It was about being happy with her pale belly bulging over the waistband of her sweatpants and not being afraid to wear fashionable clothing at size 16—and not minding that she was getting closer and closer to not fitting into those sweats with each bite.

Imagine scenes like that for a week and a half, scenes of cookies, cake, ice cream, and chocolate. Is it any wonder that Tara never lost a pound, and even added a couple, even amidst all that practice for the playoffs?

Perhaps you’re thinking about why Coach didn’t just kick Tara, Jenna, Lynn, Tina, Chelsea, and Nina all off the team. He’d already done it to Christy, who, as he’d later told people, had frankly become too much trouble for him to spend time on. He neglected to mention that it had just been a bonus that she’d been a porker as well as having a bad attitude. But that still left his other tubby girls, and they were the girls who he’d played all season, many as starters—and they were irreplaceable. There was no one from the JV team who could have stood a chance in Varsity playoffs (well, maybe Patsy, but Coach wasn’t about to give that chatty Cathy the satisfaction of knowing it). He didn’t have another goalie like Tara, a leader like Nina, a scorer like Jenna, a tough girl like Tina, or utility players like Lynn and Chelsea.

With resignation, Coach resigned himself to the fact that this was his team, fat or thin. If he was going to win a championship, it looked like it was going to be with fat girls.

To complete his surrender, as the playoffs approached, Coach drastically stepped back the practice schedule so the girls would be fresh and well rested for the playoffs. Though it was with a slight cringe he gave the sound advice to make sure they all ate well before the game so they’d have enough energy, Coach knew that he’d just have to hope for the best.

I was surprised to get an early call from Tara that afternoon. “So no more intense practices. Coach said we’re too close to the playoffs so he’s letting us rest up for it,” Tara gleefully reported.

“And I hope you did some investigative footwork on the other girls to see if they dropped some pounds?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not like I could just ask anybody if they’d lost any weight,” Tara began.

“Why not? Girls like being skinny, present company excluded, so aren’t they always saying how much weight they’ve lost?”

“Yeah, but unless a girl’s clearly lost like 10 pounds, it’s just better not to ask because then if they haven’t, they’ll feel they just look even fatter.”

“So if I asked if you’d lost weight this week, would you feel even more beautiful because you’d feel even fatter?” I asked.

Tara laughed. “No, but nice idea. Anyways, I’m pretty sure that nobody lost any weight.”

“That’s just because you’re not going to ask them. You don’t want me to go to a buffet with another woman,” I replied. I made sure my tone of voice told Tara I was just teasing her, not wanting to create any drama over something as silly as this.

“Yeah, sure. Well I have a halfway measure for you,” Tara said.

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t we go on a double date with Jenna and Tom? There’s no way Jenna’s lost any weight, but I bet that’d be really fun.”

I didn’t even have to think. “That’d be awesome! You want to arrange that…seeing as that’s kinda what girls do in relationships?”

“Just for that I’m making you do dishes the next time you’re over for dinner since you’re such a guy,” Tara said jokingly.

“Any time. Dinner with you is always a pleasure, even if I have to do dishes,” I said.

I meant it too.

***

A few nights later Tara and I arrived at Bernadette’s Kitchen, which was a Louisiana/Cajun style restaurant where we met Jenna and Tom for dinner. Naturally the prospect of a nice dinner out sounded great to Jenna and Tom seemed just as thrilled by the idea. We all decided we’d dress up a little more than normal just for the sake of doing so and as a result everyone looked good. Tom and I were sharp in our slacks and dress shirts while Jenna and Tara had adopted different styles for the evening.

Tara was, as always, a beautiful sight to behold, mainly because her skirt and top barely looked like they could hold all of her. Her skirt clung to her hips, showing off their full glory, though her thighs looked so big as they emerged from underneath the hem of the skirt that I was surprised there was even enough room in the tight skirt for all of Tara. Her top wasn’t form fitting, but her most prominent features did press up against the fabric, making it easy to trace the soft curving lines of her gut and breasts.

Jenna, on the other hand, always enjoyed any opportunity to wear a dress and had seized the current outing as just such a chance. Jenna had elected to wear a green dress that had a belt running high, just underneath her breasts. It looked excellent on her and worked with, rather than against, her size and body shape. Her dress also gave a good look at her chunky thighs, which didn’t look quite as large as Tara’s did, but clearly didn’t belong to a waif—or anyone who weighed remotely close to one. Jenna brought the same fashion she’d exhibited when she was 114 pounds to her current weight, which was easily 50 pounds more than that, if not more. Jenna looked just as voluptuous as Tara did. It was almost a dream come true to be in the presence of such curvaceous girls.

Of course, this meant that when Jenna gave Tara and then me a big, warm hug once we arrived at the restaurant, her soft, flabby arms encircling me, I was just in seventh heaven. Part of me wished that Tom wasn’t around so Tara, Jenna, and I could all squeeze into a booth, with myself in the middle, to have our dinner, but it was only a small part of me. The rest of me continued to be overjoyed to be Tara’s boyfriend and needed nothing more.

“This was such a great idea!” Jenna said as we all sat down, each couple on one side of the table, “Thanks so much for inviting us, guys!”

“Well, we thought a bit of celebration was in order now that Tara says you’re done with the worst of the workouts for the playoffs,” I said.

“God, wasn’t that horrible? I was always so tired when I’d get home,” Jenna said as she looked up from the menu.

“Not too tired to have me over,” Tom said with a smile.

“I’m never too tired to sit on the couch and watch TV with you,” Jenna said, “Even though it <I>clearly</I> requires a lot of effort.”

We soon had to get down to the business of ordering our meals. Gumbo, shrimp creole, jambalaya, and buttermilk fried chicken were all ordered up with a general agreement that we’d pick off one another’s plates. A knowing glance between Tom and I on the last point was exchanged and we both had a feeling that there wouldn’t be any leftovers from the meal—and we’d probably be getting dessert too.

When the food arrived, we all began eating with gusto, but naturally neither Tom nor I could exceed Tara or Jenna’s enjoyment of the meal. The little talk that there was between them consisted of, “Isn’t this so delicious?” or “You’ve got to try this.” It was a dream come true seeing two plump beauties like Tara and Jenna freely indulging themselves in front of me.

Once everyone had finished and an order of beignets were put in for dessert, Tara and Jenna sat back with contended sighs. “I never thought I’d ever say this, but this is great,” Jenna said.

“What? Never thought you’d like food from Louisiana?” I asked.

“No, not that,” Jenna replied with a smile, “I just never thought I’d enjoy myself like this.”

I was actually taken aback at Jenna’s forthrightness on the topic of eating so much. If I’d never known her, I would have been less surprised, but to me she was still somewhat Jenna the beauty queen…plus 50 pounds.

“I mean, I would have thought being…plump would have been the worst thing in the world.” Though Jenna appeared to be willing to talk about her weight, she still couldn’t quite call herself fat. “Yet here I am. I realize that this might sound odd, but there is a point to it. I want to thank you, both of you,” Jenna said looking across at us, “I don’t think it really registered at the time, but I think that part of me saw you—” this was directed at Tara, “—in water polo and realized that it wasn’t so bad being a big girl. You’ve always had such a good attitude and been such a great person that you’ve really been an inspiration to me. And Liam, if you and Tara hadn’t started going out together, I kind of wonder if we wouldn’t have either.”

“That’s just silly,” I said, “I’m sure eventually you and Tom would have gotten together. After all, he’s a picture of perseverance.”

“He’s got a point,” Tom said to Jenna, “I did work awful hard trying to go out with you.”

“And see how it worked out in the end?” Jenna said with a smile and a quick kiss for Tom. She put one arm around Tom and he did the same as she turned back to us. “All the same, thank you guys for being who you are. I’m definitely better off for having known you both.”

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Tara said, coloring.

“It’s the truth,” Jenna said as the beignets arrived.

“That mean you’re going to let me have your beignet?”

“Dream on!”

***

The playoffs got off to a smashing start. RFK breezed through its first two matches against Crocker High and Devaney Heights Prep. Everyone was in excellent form, especially Tara. It takes a lot of work to play goal in water polo since you have to do what’s called “treading high” to cover more of the goal. Tara could not only do that well, but, as was once pointed out by Patsy, she blocked plenty of goal as well. It wasn’t the first time that I’d compared Tara to opposing goalies, but she definitely looked to be better than those at the other end of the pool.

Coach appeared to be rather relieved that his fears about having a pool full of flailing pigs had been unfounded—thus far at least. Each new game brought another bout of worry and apprehension. However, the girls performed admirably. Jenna and Nina were scoring machines, Tina played physical when the situation required it (and that seemed to be much more often in the playoffs), and Chelsea and Lynn were stellar in relief of the other girls. Nobody blew the game, or even made major mistakes for that matter.

As the girls went deeper and deeper into the playoffs, more and more of their classmates came out to watch. David, Jeanine, Kei, and Tony showed up to support Lynn from the very first game, but soon enough the bleachers were getting more and more crowded for the regulars like Tom and myself. More fans made the games seem more exciting and gave a real playoff atmosphere to them.

The semifinal game against Keeling High was one of the closest games I’d seen all year. Tara was being constantly tested by an aggressive offense and had to come up big on many occasions. If it hadn’t been for her, I think that the girls would have lost in a rout, for the offense was only able to put together just enough to beat out Keeling by a score of 9-8. With that win, the girls were onto the division championship for the first time since anyone could remember—and of course it was a showdown with Central High.

Needless to say, Coach wasn’t the only person who came into that game with trepidation about the team’s performance. Players and fans alike were nervous for the team’s second meeting with the water polo powerhouse. Tara was no exception to that.

“You’re going to do just fine,” I told Tara before the warm ups, “Trust me. I know you can do it. You guys almost beat them last time.”

“That was back before we even thought we’d be playing for the championship,” Tara said.

“If it’s a case of pressure, then don’t worry about it. You’re right—nobody thought you’d get this far. Just getting this far is incredible! Look if you lose a billion to zero I won’t think less of you,” I said seriously, “Now, a billion and one to zero is a totally different story. I might just have to break up with you if you lose that badly.”

Tara smiled, the tension seeming to melt away, just like I’d hoped it would. “Thanks a lot. Don’t worry, I think I can beat that spread.”

“Before you go…” I pulled Tara in close for a very long good luck kiss, “Now go play your best.”

“I will,” Tara said. She jiggled off in that tight one piece bathing suit to get ready for the game. I never got tired of watching her body shake in that bathing suit and already I was sorry that this was going to be the last water polo game of the season. I made a mental note that Tara and I would have to go swimming plenty in the coming summer. Maybe I’d even get her to wear that bikini for me some time…

My mind was snapped back to the here and now as Tom and Matt arrived for the game. We took our seats together as other folks from school showed up and began filling the stands. Across from us were the Central High fans in a frenzy for what they expected would be the next in a long series of championships.

“Well well, looks like we’ve made fans out of you all,” Patsy Fagan said as she plopped down next to me wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Patsy! Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” I asked in surprise.

“For someone who’s so smart you get a lot of stuff wrong,” Patsy said, “I’m on the <I>Junior</I> Varsity team, remember? We don’t have a championship. I get to watch in the stands like the rest of you.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Watch. Not talk. So would you pipe down? I want to be able to pay attention to the game,” Tom replied with a big grin.

“You’re so insufferable. It’s a miracle that I haven’t stopped talking to you all,” Patsy said crossing her arms.

“That assumes that you could ever stop talking at all,” Matt said, taking a good natured dig at her.

“You guys are so lucky you’re dating my friends, otherwise I’d beat you all up,” Patsy said.

“Shush! The game’s starting!” I said.

***

In the end, there was very little to tell. Though Central didn’t pound us into little pieces, they still worked us over rather well in a 15-10 romp. I know what you’re thinking: this wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen, right? That’s just the way it goes sometimes.

Tara was really put through the wringer by the Central offense and she performed admirably, making some wonderful saves. Unfortunately, the goalie at the other end was just better than she was and try as they might, there was nothing that Jenna, Nina, and the other girls could do that would push them over the edge to victory.

So it was that I sat there with everyone else from RFK while the Centralites reveled in the celebration of their victory as our girls pulled themselves from the pool dejectedly. Someone, I never found out who it was, started clapping for the girls and soon we all started in and we were cheering for them just as hard and loud as everyone over on the Central side of the pool was. As one body of people we rushed out of the stands and closed in around the girls as they dried off. I had to fight my way through the crowd to find Tara, but I did.

“You did great,” I told her.

“Thanks,” she replied, “Sorry we couldn’t quite do it.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” I said, “You were awesome and I’m so proud that you’re my girlfriend.”

I didn’t know what else to say, so I just kissed Tara long and hard right then and there with everyone around us.

“Now come on!” I said, “Get changed so we can get going!”

“What do you mean? Where are we going?” Tara asked with confusion.

“You just played in the divisional championship women’s water polo game. If that’s not a reason to go get the biggest ice cream sundae I’ve ever seen, then I don’t know what is!”

Tara laughed. “Oh Liam! That sounds perfect right now!”

Trust me when I say that it was indeed the biggest ice cream sundae that I’d ever seen. It had at least five flavors in it, enough hot fudge to drown in, the heaviest and most heavenly whipped cream I’d ever had, enough bananas to keep a barrel of monkeys happy, and the reddest cherries on top.

The best part about it was that I got to share it with Tara Kelly, the girl who I loved.
 

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