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samster

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Mar 11, 2007
Messages
267
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Debbie rolled her Cadillac SUV to stop at the edge of the McDonalds parking lot. She was half way through an afternoon of running errands around town. She took a slurp of Coca Cola and another bite of apple pie and watched the steady flow cars, trucks and SUV’s driving along the highway in and out of the small Texas town she called home. Florida Georgia Line's “Cruise” was playing on the radio in the background. Early July and there was a heat haze mixing in with the fumes and the outside temperature was approaching a hundred degrees. Inside the SUV Debbie had the climate control on full blast. In late thirties and fat the former cheerleader struggled with the Texas summer.

A break in the traffic and she accelerated the $86,000 Caddy up to speed without ever letting go of her Coke or apple pie. She was experienced at the motoring move. Demolishing the apple pie in three more bites she fished a cherry pie out of the bag and rolled to a stop at one of the towns traffic lights. A jacked up pick-up stopped in the lane next to her. Two young guys with tattoo’s, steroid pumped muscles and baseball caps were peering across through her Escalades darkly tinted windows at the blonde behind the wheel. There were two responses. The typical stare ahead and ignore the roughneck’s routine or what a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader would do.

After taking a final bite of cherry pie Debbie buzzed the window down. Fixing her best cheerleader smile, Debbie winked and said:

“Hey boys!”

The two guys were a little off balance. They were blue collar boys with way too much muscle and arms tattooed. Trophy wives driving $86,000 didn’t normally acknowledge them. Sure, they checked them out from behind their tinted windows and sunglasses but that was usually it. This one was perfectly maintained, blonde and looked familiar. She also looked hot but very fat. Slowly the guy in the trucks passenger seat, Brett, connected the dots. This was Hank Hill’s, former Cowboys back-up QB and owner of Touchdown Chevrolet, wife.

“Go Cowboys!!!” shouted Brett.

“Wooohoooo! Let's go Cowboys! Let's go Cowboys! Let's go Cowboys! Let's go Cowboys!" chanted Debbie.

“Damn! You’re the one who was a Cowboys cheerleader?” asked Brett.

“Yeah baby!”

“Hey girl, can you still do your cheer moves?” asked Brett.

Debbie reached across for her McDonald’s bag and threw it out of the window into the two guy’s truck. In the privacy of their own bedroom her husband had a Cowboys cheer suit made to her current size. Debbie struggled with even the simplest moves. Which turned him on way more than her once perfect moves had done on the sidelines of Texas Stadium. Brett caught the McDonalds bag.

“Way too many times through the Golden Arches for that boys.”

“Ummmmm…” stumbled Brett, totally unsure of how to respond.

Enjoying the upper hand Debbie continued to play with the two boys. If she wanted she could eat them up just like she had the apple and cherry pies. Back in her day Debbie had run around with the real Dallas Cowboys and their wild ways. Troy Aikman had once been on her speed dial. Besides, it was flattering having two buffed up beefcakes calling her “girl”. They were probably only three or four years older than Debbie’s own son.

“Whatcha got under the hood of that truck?”

The equally muscled and tatted up driver of the truck shouted across Brett:

”This baby’s a Hemi V8 with…”

“Then I’m gonna totally smoke your asses” shouted Debbie.

The traffic light turned to green. Debbie slammed her foot down on the gas, spun the Escalade's over-sized Goodyear’s and shot forward like a silver and chrome rocket. The two good ol boys were left stood still. Debbie waved at them and then buzzed the window back up. Blasting along the towns main drag past the United Supermarket, WalMart and Home Depot she weaved past a slow moving old women in an aging Buick. The old women honked the horn and hit the brakes hard as Debbie steered into the Bank of Texas drive thru. Skidding to a stop Debbie reached across for her bank card.

“Crap!”

She dropped the card through her chubby fingers just before it reached the ATM. For a moment she debated what to do. It was seriously hot out there and she didn’t want to get out of the climate controlled SUV. But she couldn’t leave her card on the floor next to the ATM. She knew Hank always kept $20,000 in their checking account and it would suck if some thief got hold of that. Debbie sighed, opened the door and lowered herself down from the SUV. The heat hit her like a freight train.

On foot Debbie was showing off her excess. She was wearing on a pair of painted on “jeans” that were actually half spandex and a white Cowboys top that was struggling to contain her. Everywhere Debbie bulged like a fat caterpillar trying to pop out of her skin. Her ass was out there in a different zip code, her thighs rubbed together, her bloated belly hung over her waist and her breast were two giant planet like orbs.

Having located the bank card Debbie tried to reach down and pick it up.

“Oooooff…”

It wasn’t an easy manoeuvre for the bloated babe. Debbie prepared for a second go. She heard a laugh from the ATM bay next to her. It was the old woman in the Buick she’d almost run off the road. Debbie felt her face flush. Learning forward carefully again Debbie tried to reach down for the card. Two love handles bulged over the jeans and the Spandex stretched to its max as it fought a two fronted war with Debbie’s bulging belly and fat ass. Debbie made several lunges for the card; each time her “jeans” almost split in two.

“Oh my you’re a fat one” laughed the old woman in the Buick.

Debbie ignored her and made another lunge. Eventually she dropped down on one knee and grabbed the card. Sweat was rolling Debbie’s cheeks. She looked across at the still laughing old woman and glared.

“You should be embarrassed, your age and you can’t even do that” said the old woman in a West Texas accent with the hint of chain smokers croak thrown in.

“And I dubya dubya dot don’t give a crap what you think, sugar.”

“I should get out and teach you some respect” snapped the woman.

“Bring it on!”

Debbie stood and faced off the woman. Fat she might be but she was also strong and no way did some cigarette smoking, trash talking oldie worry her. The old woman seemed to be making the same assessment. But pride kept her foot on the old Buicks brake. Only a Highway Patrol cruiser rolling into the lot broke the stalemate. The old woman raised her middle finger and accelerated away. Debbie returned the one fingered salute and hauled her ass back up into the SUV and took her $200 out of the ATM.

For a moment she debated chasing after the Buick but held back. A better plan seemed to be calling in at Starbucks and then heading back across town to visit her mom. Debbie smiled. That had been a fun ten minute timeout from her normal life. Now it was back to being well behaved wifey Debbie…until next time…

ILLUSTRATION: http://fav.me/d72vf2a
 

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