~BBW, Imagery, Eating,Stuckage,~SWG - Just how many admirers can one plump hottie attract?
Chapter One
As she stood gazing at her reflection in her full length, panoramic mirror Tracey flashed herself a perfect, crystal white smile.
“Good, I look stunning!”
This was a statement of truth. Tracey Harrison did indeed look stunning.
Carefully she squinted at her reflection and applied just a little extra lip gloss; pouting with satisfaction once again. All dressed up for the St Ledger Ladies Day Tracey looked her absolute best. She’d spent the morning at the Elements MediSpa beauty salon in Doncaster having a whole range of preparatory work – she was sporting long acrylic nails, picture perfect make-up, a bronzed St. Tropez tan and a whole range of facial treatments.
That wasn’t all. The day before she’d booked a day off work and spent her time at the salon having a spectacular array of blonde hair extensions fitted. What’s more, a week prior to that the somewhat self-absorbed (an understatement akin to calling the Queen regal) Tracey had spent a day at Elements having her botox re-applied, lips enhanced and a chemical skin peel.
All added up the effect of the cosmetic attention was jaw dropping.
True, Tracey was an older beauty at the tender age of thirty six, but with all her therapy she looked a good ten years younger. She gave herself a model’s twirl in front of the mirror – her D cup breasts stood firmly to attention in her low cut summer dress and the pumped up glamour queen smiled at the effects of her boob job. With two kids Tracey had been forced to take such measures just over a year back.
Then she frowned – or as much as she could after all the botox and chemical peels. She was looking plump. Not fat by any means but at thirty six, with two kids and an affluent lifestyle the blonde beauty was definitely carrying around a layer of extra padding. What’s more, after sorting through her divorce and marrying Steve she now felt so much more relaxed. It had caused her to indulge her appetite. Whilst her ex-husband had encouraged her to attend the gym at least four times a week Steve didn’t see to care. What’s more Steve was a great cook and Tracey had developed quite a taste for his exotic desserts.
Self consciously she ran her hands down her widened hips and over her bulbous bubble butt. “This dress really does look too tight” she thought “but Steve said I looked my best ever when I tried it on last month…”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a shouting male voice from downstairs.
“Come on Tracey, lets get moving or we’re going to be late.”
Tracey checked her reflection out once more and pushed any further thoughts about her weight clean from her head.
“I’m looking amazing!” she told herself “totally amazing,” before she walked out through the master bedroom, down the stairs and into the hall way.
Standing in the hallway her husband Steve certainly agreed with the “amazing” comment. His wife of a year was looking positively smokin’ hot. Steve had always had a thing for the hot, curvy blonde look and marrying Tracey had been the ultimate achievement. She’d worked firstly as his PA then as a general Office Manager before their affair started.
His first marriage had been into class more to satisfy the expectations of his family than for love. Though he'd fathered two children the relationship had become emotionless and both he and his ex-wife ended up sleeping in separate bedrooms. She cheated on him and it hadn’t taken him long to focus his attentions on his stunning blonde office manager.
That had started an office affair had taken them to almost every hotel in Yorkshire and the north of England. Eventually the inevitable had happened and they got caught. That in turn had lead to Steve divorcing his first wife without much of a fuss; Tracey was already in the later stages of a messy and bitter divorce.
Just over a year from that they’d both married and had lived together ever since. Both had children from their previous marriage and had no desire for more – Tracey’s two kids lived with them and his first wife had his.
“How do I look?” asked Tracey, glancing at herself in the hallway mirror.
“Gorgeous” he replied “but lets get going or we’re going to struggle to get parked. We’re already running late.”
“Well I have to look my best,” pouted Tracey. “it is Ladies Day after all and didn’t you say Sir Fred and his wife are going to be there?”
“Yes they are and I think we’re sitting at the same table.”
“I would assume we are,” continued Tracey. “You are a Director now after all.”
She stepped past him and peered into the living room. Her parents were over to look after the children whilst the couple had their day at the races. At age ten and eight Tracey’s two boys were a handful and she was grateful to have them taken off her hands for a day.
“You boys be good for granny and granddad,” she cooed. “And mummy will see you this evening”
The two boys ignored their mum’s baby talk, remaining focused on the television screen and the Xbox video game. Their mother, however, wasn’t to be deterred. Tracey walked across the living room towards the TV and her two sons. She crouched down in a movement that caused her bum to test her dress seams to the limit and placed a glossy pink kiss on each boy’s cheek.
“Love you loads,” she gushed.
“Aw mum” groaned the eldest “you got that pink stuff all over me!”
Tracey rose back to her feet and giggled.
“It looks cute”
That broke the video game trance and both kids tore away from the screen and hugged their mum. It was the only way to get rid of her. Feeling warm and fuzzy Tracey then turned to her parents, waved and headed back out to her husband. She worried about her kids sometimes – her first husband had now re-married and moved down south and showed very little interest in them. Steve did his best with them but it wasn’t the same.
She bit her pumped up lip and felt a twinge of guilt. “Things were so much simpler when I was married to John…,”she thought, then she tried to push that thought from her head. The divorce hadn’t been her fault.
Her stiletto heels click clacked on the garden paving as she followed her husband towards their two cars. With irritation the vain yummy mummy noted Steve was heading for his somewhat less than glamorous Volkswagen Passat and ignoring her Range Rover Sport.
“What are you doing?” shouted Tracey incredulously.
“Er…opening the car door”
“Don’t be silly, Steve” snapped Tracey “we’re taking the Range Rover to the races. Everyone will be there and what’s the point of paying all that money for it if we don’t show it off?” She raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow and waited for a response.
“Everybody’s who’s anybody’s going to be at the races and I’d rather they didn’t see me in your car”.
“Well, I suppose I just didn’t think about that…but you know what the car parks are like there and I thought somebody might scratch it or whatever.”
Tracey wasn’t impressed.
“If somebody scratches it, we’ll just have to get it fixed up. Now come on Steve, let’s go”
Steve shrugged and forced a smile. He dashed back in the house, swapping the Volkswagen key set for the Range Rover keys and headed back. In a gesture of old school chivalry that was motivated far more by a desire to ogle Tracey’s generously proportioned bottom, he opened the passenger door for his wife, gawking shamelessly as she hauled herself up into her cherished Chelsea Tractor. Buying the Range Rover had involved them taking out a finance package that still made Steve wince, but Tracey loved him all the more for it and that was what mattered to Steve. After screwing up his first marriage he was determined to get things right with his second wife.
Chapter Two
Standing in the Fred Richards Ltd corporate tent Beth and Katherine held a glass of wine in one hand and a plate of buffet food in the other. Both had worked for local millionaire Sir Fred Richards for close to fifteen years. Every year the firm booked a large marquee to entertain the sprawling firm’s managers, key clients and their partners at the Doncaster St Ledger horse races.
With the free buffet and open bar it was much anticipated event; as junior level managers both Beth and Kath were happy to have got an invite. Others at their level hadn’t managed it.
“Have you put any money on the horses?” asked Beth.
“Just a tenner,” answered Kath “I don’t know the first thing about them so I just went for the one with a nice name. I think its something like one hundred to one.”
“You’re in for a big pay out if that one wins. What’s it called?”
“Little Demon.”
Beth laughed at the horse’s name.
“Well good luck to Little Demon! What will you spend it on if you win?”
“Um…I can go on that holiday I suppose. But then at one hundred to one Little Demon’s
hardly likely to win, is it?”
“You never know,” said Beth. “Stranger things have happened”
“I’ve never been that lucky,” rued Kath, “so Little Demon might as well just pack in and go home”
The women paused and looked at the entrance of the marquee as they noted the two latest arrivals; Steve and Tracey Harrison. Both worked for the group and both had a reputation. Steve was a director whose main claim to fame was being caught banging Tracey’s brains out in a Holiday Inn; Tracey was a middle level manager who’d managed to build a career out of looking pretty and doing precious little else.
Before the Holiday Inn incident Tracey had worked as Beth and Kath’s office manager. After the incident she’d been moved to manage the human resources department in another office location. The move both spared Tracey some humiliation and minimized disruption.
Beth hated Tracey. She regarded her as being vain, lazy and generally useless at whatever job she’d done and had been a nightmare to work for. Not because she was particularly demanding but because she was simply never there – two hour lunches were the norm for Tracey. Then there was the break-up of her first marriage. Tracey’s first husband had been a Rovers footballer who got involved in a scandal; it and the subsequent divorce had even made the pages of the Doncaster Free Press. Beth didn’t know the whole story, few really did, but she wondered how Tracey had been so stupid as to destroy her first marriage. The fact that it wasn’t really Tracey’s doing she didn’t swallow.
Kath, however, was enjoying watching the glamorous Tracey get older. She’d rapidly turned to an array of cosmetic procedures after passing her thirtieth birthday and Kath couldn’t help noticing her steady weight gain. Frustratingly they worked at different office locations but Kath always tried to swing a visit to HR just to check out the glamorous blonde. In her form fitting summer dress Tracey was looking like a plump middle aged Barbie doll which sent Kath’s heart racing.
“Is it me or has she put on some more weight?” mused Kath.
“Its not just you, poor old Tracey’s figure’s starting to slip. Look she’s even grown herself a little pot belly and that bum is positively bursting out of that dress. She probably still thinks she’s a perfect ten.”
“I remember when she was.”
The two watched the posing and preening Tracey as she kissed the company owner Sir Fred Richards and then moved onto his wife Lucy. Now Lucy was truly stunning. She was tall at 6ft, slim with long jet back and a model like figure. At age thirty she was a good thirty years younger than her husband Sir Fred Richards and fitted cleanly into the absolute definition of trophy wife. Stood next to her Tracey looked every bit the short chubby little blonde she was.
“I bet Tracey hates being stood next to her,” snickered Beth.
“Yeah, it makes her bum look even bigger. But I’m not sure she’s even conscious of it.”
Tracey meanwhile had stepped up her full charm offensive – after all Lucy was the bosses’ wife and Tracey had long since learnt the benefits of keeping on the good side of her social betters.
“Oooo I love your dress Lucy,” she gushed, “where did you get it from?”
“Harrods,” returned Lucy dismissively. “It’s a designer original”
As was social custom Tracey paused and waited for Lucy to compliment her own dress. No compliment was forthcoming. Nervously she ran a finger through her long blonde hair and puzzled for something else to say.
“It is sooo stunning and it suits your figure perfectly. Although it must be easy shopping with a figure like yours.” Tracey paused to see if her shameless flattery was working.
Disturbingly she noticed Lucy Richards face hadn’t even cracked into a smile. “Um…er…what designer is it?”
“Versace.”
There was an awkward silence. Lucy had no interest in talking to this air headed chubby blonde and simply wanted her to move on. She was very used to brown nosing employees and wasn’t impressed. Lucy rolled her proverbial eye as she noticed the blonde’s necklace. It was gold colored with the T dangling between her boobs.
“That is just too tacky!” thought Lucy to herself.
Next she noticed her husband’s line of sight. His eyes were flicking rapidly between blondie’s boob job and her fat ass – “surely he can’t fancy this overweight tart?” she thought.
Sir Fred continued to stare and Lucy had to conclude that he certainly did have a soft spot for her…so Lucy snapped:
“Go fetch me another glass of champagne”
“Excuse me?” blinked a shocked Tracey. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like that.
“I said go get me another glass of champagne”
Her ego still reeling from the demand Tracey forced a smile and said:
“Of course Lucy, I’ll go get you a glass.”
“Good…and some finger food too.”
Wiggling across the marquee Tracey exchanged a few “hello’s” with other employee’s and noticed more than one gaze linger on her curvy figure. She also tried to work out why Lucy Richards was being so snappy to her. With a smug smile Tracey arrived at her conclusion. “She’s jealous! Fred’s always fancied me and she wants me away from him…ha…well I’ll show her. Nobody orders me around like a servant!”
There's Something About Tracey . . .
by Samster
by Samster
Chapter One
As she stood gazing at her reflection in her full length, panoramic mirror Tracey flashed herself a perfect, crystal white smile.
“Good, I look stunning!”
This was a statement of truth. Tracey Harrison did indeed look stunning.
Carefully she squinted at her reflection and applied just a little extra lip gloss; pouting with satisfaction once again. All dressed up for the St Ledger Ladies Day Tracey looked her absolute best. She’d spent the morning at the Elements MediSpa beauty salon in Doncaster having a whole range of preparatory work – she was sporting long acrylic nails, picture perfect make-up, a bronzed St. Tropez tan and a whole range of facial treatments.
That wasn’t all. The day before she’d booked a day off work and spent her time at the salon having a spectacular array of blonde hair extensions fitted. What’s more, a week prior to that the somewhat self-absorbed (an understatement akin to calling the Queen regal) Tracey had spent a day at Elements having her botox re-applied, lips enhanced and a chemical skin peel.
All added up the effect of the cosmetic attention was jaw dropping.
True, Tracey was an older beauty at the tender age of thirty six, but with all her therapy she looked a good ten years younger. She gave herself a model’s twirl in front of the mirror – her D cup breasts stood firmly to attention in her low cut summer dress and the pumped up glamour queen smiled at the effects of her boob job. With two kids Tracey had been forced to take such measures just over a year back.
Then she frowned – or as much as she could after all the botox and chemical peels. She was looking plump. Not fat by any means but at thirty six, with two kids and an affluent lifestyle the blonde beauty was definitely carrying around a layer of extra padding. What’s more, after sorting through her divorce and marrying Steve she now felt so much more relaxed. It had caused her to indulge her appetite. Whilst her ex-husband had encouraged her to attend the gym at least four times a week Steve didn’t see to care. What’s more Steve was a great cook and Tracey had developed quite a taste for his exotic desserts.
Self consciously she ran her hands down her widened hips and over her bulbous bubble butt. “This dress really does look too tight” she thought “but Steve said I looked my best ever when I tried it on last month…”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a shouting male voice from downstairs.
“Come on Tracey, lets get moving or we’re going to be late.”
Tracey checked her reflection out once more and pushed any further thoughts about her weight clean from her head.
“I’m looking amazing!” she told herself “totally amazing,” before she walked out through the master bedroom, down the stairs and into the hall way.
Standing in the hallway her husband Steve certainly agreed with the “amazing” comment. His wife of a year was looking positively smokin’ hot. Steve had always had a thing for the hot, curvy blonde look and marrying Tracey had been the ultimate achievement. She’d worked firstly as his PA then as a general Office Manager before their affair started.
His first marriage had been into class more to satisfy the expectations of his family than for love. Though he'd fathered two children the relationship had become emotionless and both he and his ex-wife ended up sleeping in separate bedrooms. She cheated on him and it hadn’t taken him long to focus his attentions on his stunning blonde office manager.
That had started an office affair had taken them to almost every hotel in Yorkshire and the north of England. Eventually the inevitable had happened and they got caught. That in turn had lead to Steve divorcing his first wife without much of a fuss; Tracey was already in the later stages of a messy and bitter divorce.
Just over a year from that they’d both married and had lived together ever since. Both had children from their previous marriage and had no desire for more – Tracey’s two kids lived with them and his first wife had his.
“How do I look?” asked Tracey, glancing at herself in the hallway mirror.
“Gorgeous” he replied “but lets get going or we’re going to struggle to get parked. We’re already running late.”
“Well I have to look my best,” pouted Tracey. “it is Ladies Day after all and didn’t you say Sir Fred and his wife are going to be there?”
“Yes they are and I think we’re sitting at the same table.”
“I would assume we are,” continued Tracey. “You are a Director now after all.”
She stepped past him and peered into the living room. Her parents were over to look after the children whilst the couple had their day at the races. At age ten and eight Tracey’s two boys were a handful and she was grateful to have them taken off her hands for a day.
“You boys be good for granny and granddad,” she cooed. “And mummy will see you this evening”
The two boys ignored their mum’s baby talk, remaining focused on the television screen and the Xbox video game. Their mother, however, wasn’t to be deterred. Tracey walked across the living room towards the TV and her two sons. She crouched down in a movement that caused her bum to test her dress seams to the limit and placed a glossy pink kiss on each boy’s cheek.
“Love you loads,” she gushed.
“Aw mum” groaned the eldest “you got that pink stuff all over me!”
Tracey rose back to her feet and giggled.
“It looks cute”
That broke the video game trance and both kids tore away from the screen and hugged their mum. It was the only way to get rid of her. Feeling warm and fuzzy Tracey then turned to her parents, waved and headed back out to her husband. She worried about her kids sometimes – her first husband had now re-married and moved down south and showed very little interest in them. Steve did his best with them but it wasn’t the same.
She bit her pumped up lip and felt a twinge of guilt. “Things were so much simpler when I was married to John…,”she thought, then she tried to push that thought from her head. The divorce hadn’t been her fault.
Her stiletto heels click clacked on the garden paving as she followed her husband towards their two cars. With irritation the vain yummy mummy noted Steve was heading for his somewhat less than glamorous Volkswagen Passat and ignoring her Range Rover Sport.
“What are you doing?” shouted Tracey incredulously.
“Er…opening the car door”
“Don’t be silly, Steve” snapped Tracey “we’re taking the Range Rover to the races. Everyone will be there and what’s the point of paying all that money for it if we don’t show it off?” She raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow and waited for a response.
“Everybody’s who’s anybody’s going to be at the races and I’d rather they didn’t see me in your car”.
“Well, I suppose I just didn’t think about that…but you know what the car parks are like there and I thought somebody might scratch it or whatever.”
Tracey wasn’t impressed.
“If somebody scratches it, we’ll just have to get it fixed up. Now come on Steve, let’s go”
Steve shrugged and forced a smile. He dashed back in the house, swapping the Volkswagen key set for the Range Rover keys and headed back. In a gesture of old school chivalry that was motivated far more by a desire to ogle Tracey’s generously proportioned bottom, he opened the passenger door for his wife, gawking shamelessly as she hauled herself up into her cherished Chelsea Tractor. Buying the Range Rover had involved them taking out a finance package that still made Steve wince, but Tracey loved him all the more for it and that was what mattered to Steve. After screwing up his first marriage he was determined to get things right with his second wife.
Chapter Two
Standing in the Fred Richards Ltd corporate tent Beth and Katherine held a glass of wine in one hand and a plate of buffet food in the other. Both had worked for local millionaire Sir Fred Richards for close to fifteen years. Every year the firm booked a large marquee to entertain the sprawling firm’s managers, key clients and their partners at the Doncaster St Ledger horse races.
With the free buffet and open bar it was much anticipated event; as junior level managers both Beth and Kath were happy to have got an invite. Others at their level hadn’t managed it.
“Have you put any money on the horses?” asked Beth.
“Just a tenner,” answered Kath “I don’t know the first thing about them so I just went for the one with a nice name. I think its something like one hundred to one.”
“You’re in for a big pay out if that one wins. What’s it called?”
“Little Demon.”
Beth laughed at the horse’s name.
“Well good luck to Little Demon! What will you spend it on if you win?”
“Um…I can go on that holiday I suppose. But then at one hundred to one Little Demon’s
hardly likely to win, is it?”
“You never know,” said Beth. “Stranger things have happened”
“I’ve never been that lucky,” rued Kath, “so Little Demon might as well just pack in and go home”
The women paused and looked at the entrance of the marquee as they noted the two latest arrivals; Steve and Tracey Harrison. Both worked for the group and both had a reputation. Steve was a director whose main claim to fame was being caught banging Tracey’s brains out in a Holiday Inn; Tracey was a middle level manager who’d managed to build a career out of looking pretty and doing precious little else.
Before the Holiday Inn incident Tracey had worked as Beth and Kath’s office manager. After the incident she’d been moved to manage the human resources department in another office location. The move both spared Tracey some humiliation and minimized disruption.
Beth hated Tracey. She regarded her as being vain, lazy and generally useless at whatever job she’d done and had been a nightmare to work for. Not because she was particularly demanding but because she was simply never there – two hour lunches were the norm for Tracey. Then there was the break-up of her first marriage. Tracey’s first husband had been a Rovers footballer who got involved in a scandal; it and the subsequent divorce had even made the pages of the Doncaster Free Press. Beth didn’t know the whole story, few really did, but she wondered how Tracey had been so stupid as to destroy her first marriage. The fact that it wasn’t really Tracey’s doing she didn’t swallow.
Kath, however, was enjoying watching the glamorous Tracey get older. She’d rapidly turned to an array of cosmetic procedures after passing her thirtieth birthday and Kath couldn’t help noticing her steady weight gain. Frustratingly they worked at different office locations but Kath always tried to swing a visit to HR just to check out the glamorous blonde. In her form fitting summer dress Tracey was looking like a plump middle aged Barbie doll which sent Kath’s heart racing.
“Is it me or has she put on some more weight?” mused Kath.
“Its not just you, poor old Tracey’s figure’s starting to slip. Look she’s even grown herself a little pot belly and that bum is positively bursting out of that dress. She probably still thinks she’s a perfect ten.”
“I remember when she was.”
The two watched the posing and preening Tracey as she kissed the company owner Sir Fred Richards and then moved onto his wife Lucy. Now Lucy was truly stunning. She was tall at 6ft, slim with long jet back and a model like figure. At age thirty she was a good thirty years younger than her husband Sir Fred Richards and fitted cleanly into the absolute definition of trophy wife. Stood next to her Tracey looked every bit the short chubby little blonde she was.
“I bet Tracey hates being stood next to her,” snickered Beth.
“Yeah, it makes her bum look even bigger. But I’m not sure she’s even conscious of it.”
Tracey meanwhile had stepped up her full charm offensive – after all Lucy was the bosses’ wife and Tracey had long since learnt the benefits of keeping on the good side of her social betters.
“Oooo I love your dress Lucy,” she gushed, “where did you get it from?”
“Harrods,” returned Lucy dismissively. “It’s a designer original”
As was social custom Tracey paused and waited for Lucy to compliment her own dress. No compliment was forthcoming. Nervously she ran a finger through her long blonde hair and puzzled for something else to say.
“It is sooo stunning and it suits your figure perfectly. Although it must be easy shopping with a figure like yours.” Tracey paused to see if her shameless flattery was working.
Disturbingly she noticed Lucy Richards face hadn’t even cracked into a smile. “Um…er…what designer is it?”
“Versace.”
There was an awkward silence. Lucy had no interest in talking to this air headed chubby blonde and simply wanted her to move on. She was very used to brown nosing employees and wasn’t impressed. Lucy rolled her proverbial eye as she noticed the blonde’s necklace. It was gold colored with the T dangling between her boobs.
“That is just too tacky!” thought Lucy to herself.
Next she noticed her husband’s line of sight. His eyes were flicking rapidly between blondie’s boob job and her fat ass – “surely he can’t fancy this overweight tart?” she thought.
Sir Fred continued to stare and Lucy had to conclude that he certainly did have a soft spot for her…so Lucy snapped:
“Go fetch me another glass of champagne”
“Excuse me?” blinked a shocked Tracey. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like that.
“I said go get me another glass of champagne”
Her ego still reeling from the demand Tracey forced a smile and said:
“Of course Lucy, I’ll go get you a glass.”
“Good…and some finger food too.”
Wiggling across the marquee Tracey exchanged a few “hello’s” with other employee’s and noticed more than one gaze linger on her curvy figure. She also tried to work out why Lucy Richards was being so snappy to her. With a smug smile Tracey arrived at her conclusion. “She’s jealous! Fred’s always fancied me and she wants me away from him…ha…well I’ll show her. Nobody orders me around like a servant!”
