BBW Unforgettable Cruise (~BBW, SSBBW, ~~WG, Romance, ~Sex)

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Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
“I’ve tried and tried and tried to get over this and let it go, on my own and with help, including psychotherapy for a spell. Has not ever worked. I’m well aware of the availability of implants and related surgical options. At times I’ve considered them, always backing away due to their unnatural nature, possibility of complications, and cost. Part of me feels I’m defective because of how readily I fatten out in pear shape—which as we know is a synonym for deterioration and losing desirability—but never gain up top.”

“At all?”

“It’s such a teeny bit, Neen, it hardly counts.”

“Some other day and time I’ll want to ask you about your fat gain patterns, but obviously not now. Please tell me more.”

“I’m genuinely obsessed with big boobs, almost as much as the stereotype of the most extreme boob-loving man. Seriously: I have been known to look at big-boob porn. Not to get off, but to rage.”

“Why would you do that to yourself? Makes no sense.”

“There’s a lot of things we humans do that make no sense. Such as, oh say, falling madly and hopelessly in love with someone I’m still getting to know, before I know them well.”

“That’s where I am” he admitted, his voice slightly choked by emotions beyond his understanding.


They shared a long, tender kiss instigated by her.


“OK, I’m so close to finishing, I gotta do this. Women with big boobs fascinate and threaten me in general. BBW with big boobs do so in particular, in part because that’s considered standard equipment.”

“I’m going to start playing with yours, you know.”

“I want that more than you have any idea, but not now, please. After dinner works for me.”

“I like where this is going” he grinned. “Apologies for the interruption; please go on.”

“Seeing you heading off with Beryl was a good news/bad news situation for me: good news because it made clear to me that you truly are an FA and truly do like fat women, and weren’t being mean to me back at MatCon as I’d concluded at that time. Bad news ’cause she’s quite busty and big all over, and I’m not.

“So then I saw you going off with the woman I now know is named Rebecca, nearly apoplectic over what she has that I don’t. This is mostly about me, but it’s about you too, given that we’re currently again nude together and at least I’m so lost to love with you that I can barely see.”

“I’m there.”

“I need to know what you’re into, in terms of your lover’s body. ’Cause if it’s boobs, we need to please work together to wind this thing down before either of us gets hurt.”

“How can we do that when we fell into this deep well without knowing?”

“Let’s start with whether there’s a need to get out or not. Total truth, no spin: are you a boob man, Neener?”

“I’m an everything man, when it comes to fat. 3Bs, hips, thighs, lower legs, arms, back—if it’s soft fat on a passionate woman’s body who’s into me and consents for me to feel her, I’m there.”

“3Bs?”

“Boobs, belly, butt. This is news?”

“No, I just ripped a brain fart. Back is a B, so you might want to update that to 4Bs.”

“With the next maintenance release I shall” he snickered.

“But what is your preference, amongst those, Mister Everything?”

“I have between 2 and 4, depending how one counts body parts. One of those, as a pair usually, is boobs. Love big boobs! Since you’re name-dropping my prior cruise dates, so shall I: Beryl was sublime up top. Rebecca was transcendental.”

She tightened up and pulled inside, obviously hurt.

“Hey—don’t make me teethe your nipples before dinner—those are for dessert!”

“Why would you even bother with mine?”

“Because I love you, and you want to be loved there, and… boobs! Seriously Chonk, you look to me to be in the 34 to 36C range, which ain’t no mosquito bites.”

“34C. But that’s dinky on a 202 pound fat pear!”

“You’ve got all this”–he grabbed her hips–“and you only weigh two hundred two pounds?!”

“Yes. Does that disappoint you further?”

“I’m not disappointed at all, just surprised. My innate desire beyond my mind’s control lusts by volume, not weight. I believe it’s better for everyone to carry less dense fat: easier on you because it weighs less, thus less joint wear, with all the exciting, sensual space-consuming volume. Easier on me because when you’re lying atop me in the throes of intimacy, both of us enjoying your vast dimensions and spread, the pressure on me is less, so it’s more comfortable and we can do it longer.

“34C is average, not dinky! 34A is dinky. 34B is marginal. And here’s the thing you didn’t let me get to: the other 1 to 3 preferences of mine. It/those are what you have: fat hips, fat buns, fat thighs. At least the first 2 of those tend to blend into unitary smoothly well-rounded objects on the women to whom I can’t help feeling most attracted, such as yourself.

“More is always better, and in a perfect world my USBBW lover would be profoundly fat all over in a sexy shape, details of sexy shape being difficult to define, because unlike my work, it’s not something which can be rationally predicted by modeling, measured, drawn to scale, then created at full size with final materials. When And is not the best option, Or is great!

He stared deep into her eyes, startling her with his intensity, “Let me put this another way: a sufficiently super wobbly fat pear-shaped woman does not need boobs, at all! Because what she’s got going on down below for soft luscious fat is so compelling, the boobs don’t matter.”

“What’s sufficient in terms of super wobbly mid-body fat to you?”

“You truly want to know?”

Yes.”


He retrieved his handheld, swiping to a near-empty app screen so she could see his home screen picture. “This” he said as he held it up for her to see.


It was a headless photo of a hips-for-days huge-thighed USBBW with a generous belly and relatively small breasts. Nude.


“Oh not even!” she ranted. “I’m not gonna be a quarter ton 3 seat hippo hipper!”

“You think she’s a quarter tonner?”

Yes” she indignantly replied, pushing his device and hand away, “Get that away from me, please.”

“Sure thing; you asked. To be clear, the woman in the photo is beyond sufficient, but is the closest example at my fingertips from my pear-shaped collection. The point is: when one’s as big as her, she has so much mid-body stuff going on, I’m unconcerned about what she has for boobs. I’ll assuredly pay attention to them or not as she prefers, but I won’t be lacking in any way.”

“But you are with me, at my current size.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying the great gift you’re giving me letting us be here like this at all in the first place! Your body to make into what you most want it to be, for those of us out here with whom you care to share enjoying it as it is, as you want it to be.”

“It’s not rational, Neener—none of this is! I wouldn’t be caring what you think if I wasn’t madly in love with you, which isn’t rational. My boob obsession isn’t in any way rational, as we’ve established. I love that you are rational, and I prefer being in that space myself. My concern is that I’m investing too much energy in our love for you to quickly wander off to your next lover, as has been your pattern so far this cruise.”

“Beryl does one-offs—that was not my choice. Had it been otherwise, I’d likely have not made it to Rebecca… at least not yet, per historic short-term loving patterns not necessarily at all of my choosing. Rebecca is a whole other story and a private matter due to my needing to respect her privacy in terms of what I share with other people. For our purposes it’s a one-and-done, as with Beryl. Chances Rebecca will want to be near me on the rest of this cruise if ever anywhere are slim.”

“Unlike her and me and Beryl” she quipped.

“Yep. When it comes to us, we have that same pattern from MatCon. Things seem different now, so maybe this time will be different. If I’m with someone and things are going decently well or there’s a strong enough bond and the expectation that problems can and will be worked through, I’m with that person—especially for a brand-new searing hot love. I don’t know what we’re doing here, other than we already have pet names for one another and the feelings I feel for you feel strong enough to crush my chest—brand new to me! If or when we blow up or fall apart or calmly agree to move on, I’ll actively be looking for others to intimately love. Until then, and especially with all this insane love power I’m feeling, you own me, Chonk!”


The extremely strong passionate feelings within her triggered by his ending comment ensured that Leigh’s appetizer course was one of her favorites: Clark’s mouth. Her hands once again roamed over areas of his sexy body within reach, as did his on hers.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
Freshly-bathed formally dressed Clark Barr gently clasped the hand of his freshly-bathed and done-up dinner date Leigh Down, atop their pink cloth-covered table at Glissando. “Please do not ever again let me hear you say that you’re plain-looking, Chonk. You…”–he began to get choked up, his eyes growing moist–“are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever dated.”

The shimmer in her cosmetized eyes was at least as bright as the 3 tall white candles in the silver candelabra adorning their table, possibly at least in part because of them. The angelic live harp music in the background seemed to her the perfect soundtrack for the handsome living angel seated across from her, his generous wavy salt-and-pepper hair shining in the candlelight, his own purely natural eyes and all his face owning her romantic soul with the loving beauty it—he!—exuded, especially his endearing smile. For the longest time all she managed was repeatedly gently squeezing and releasing his held hand.

Eventually a few words came to her. “I am at a loss for words, Neen. This—all of this—is magical to me. You look better than I’ve ever seen you, and this whole cruise you’ve looked good to me.”

“Even when I was the last person you wanted to see?”

“Even then” she blushed, briefly averting her eyes. “I’m very glad to be seeing you now, in several senses of that phrase.”

“More wine?”

“Yes please.”


Waiter Andrés was back with their entrees.

Leigh’s eyes had a new reason to glisten, seeing the startlingly large proportions of the night’s Sapphire Special: Steak ’n’ Bake. Whilst Chef Lindgren’s very basic alliteration adequately described the general nature of the steak and baked potato main course, in no way could it convey the nuances of taste, texture, and presentation. Clark could see on his date’s blissed-out expression without having to ask that the steak was an outlying delight. The baked potato’s aroma was so impressive that it snaked through his currently-waning anosmia. As well its boisterous colors and textures were so eye-catching, he knew before she took her first bite that she was going to love it.


“How’s your Finger Snapper?” she asked during an eating pause.

“Quite nice. I’d never thought of red snapper as finger food, nor that there was any left out there that wasn’t all contaminated to hell and gone. Mmmm… thhrs… sorry, this is nice!”


This very special dinner date upon which they’d agreed and arranged prior to parting ways for their individual cleanup and dressing up was proving entirely worthwhile, and especially in Clark’s case not partaking of the Pampered Gem package, worth the extra money.

In this moment, she was his dream date: the only woman he wanted to be with. The only woman existing in his mind!

Similarly, he was her dream date: loved, trusted, known, super-easy on the eyes. Her lover and most intimate confidant, knowing some of her deepest secrets of great import. Possibly most of all: fully on-board with her personal cruise goals, rather than as she’d originally feared an impediment to them.

For Clark and Leigh this leisurely 2 hour multi-course feast was something more: foreplay.


* *
It went without saying they’d remain together, wherever they happened to agree to go. Immediately post-dinner that was to her stateroom. On this walk, arms around one another supplanted handholding.

“You sure you want to go dancing so soon after eating?”

“Why do you ask? Is my fat hip grinding against your firm one with every step too enticing? Or the lordosis from my high heels?”

“Both are incredibly enticing, but no, that’s not why I ask. For the same reason I’m surprised you want to go out dancing straightaway, I’d be being gentle with you in or on bed, or wherever else we might wind up, in deference to your clothes-torturing fullness.”

“Your awareness of my need to digest before heavy exercise is noted and greatly appreciated, though you do overstate my mild garment distress” she replied as she cuddled into him deeper, slowing their walk a little more. “I don’t want to dance all that long.”

“What’s the point of going tonight then, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I don’t mind your asking. It’s important to my self-esteem to be seen dancing with you and walking off the dance floor with you, as… has happened with you and others.”

“Do I need to pretend I don’t know you, like I didn’t know them?”

“Nooo.”

“Alright, alright! Just trying to understand, and properly fulfill my role beyond what my nature dictates.”

“Go with your nature and love me true, and my goals will be met.”


* *
All-smiles DJ Swash Buckle and her on-shoulder turquoise-breasted mostly-green parrot once again held court at Club Troposphere.

Neither Clark nor Leigh knew the current medium tempo beat-heavy dance track to which they were dancing (nor did either feel motivated to have their handheld query SoundHound, Shazam, nor any other music look-up service). Beyond Leigh’s ongoing breathtaking extra-special made-up beauty the unexpected amount of fat jiggle and wobble he could see on her after such a big meal that he felt sure would arrest her gelatinous quiver had him fixated on her and her alone. Leigh nearly forgot about showing off her date to others in her focus of being with her date, thrilled that it was virtually guaranteed that she’d have her hands all over him all the rest of the waking night and be cuddled intimately and cozily into him throughout the sleeping night.


Plans often change, and theirs did: at Leigh’s behest, they wound up dancing longer than she’d estimated, losing track of time under the stars to the rhythmic tunes.


The sudden appearance of someone vaguely familiar to Leigh urgently seeking Clark’s attention interrupted their gently gyrating groove.

“Question, Clark.”

“Hey Per! Have you met Leigh yet?”

{The FA guy he was talking about Beryl with!} she realized.

“No. Hi Leigh, I’m Per Haugen.”

“Nice to meet you, Per. I’m Leigh Down.”

“Great name” he grinned, first towards her then Clark.

“I like yours too.”

“So what’s up friend?” asked Clark.

“It’s kinda… can we go to a quieter place, please?”


Leigh joined in, holding hands with her honey as the 3 of them rushed off the dance floor to a quiet enough private space behind a support pillar.


Per’s gaze was intense, stressed, and rushed, “I don’t know that this is– do you want to be talking about your other lovers in front of your current one?

“Leigh is very special to me. Anything you can possibly say to me or ask of me is something she should be able to hear too.”

“Alright” he sighed, remaining uncomfortable, yet plunging ahead, “Tell me about Rebecca Davidson—please.”

Clark briefly let go of Leigh’s hand so he could plant both of his atop his FA friend’s shoulders, staring into his eyes, “Go slow with her, Per. Very slow. Be hyper-aware of tension in her body, and if you feel her tense up, walk it back—whatever’s going on.”

“Trauma victim?”

He looked down, pursing his lips. A moment later he nodded, ever-so-slightly. His eyes jumped back up to his, “She needs each of our very best.”

“I’ll be a good M&M, I promise. Thanks!” he ended with a smile and shoulder pat, adding “Great to meet you, Leigh!” as he rushed off.

You too, Per!” she shouted over the ever-growing distance between them.


“What’s next for us?” asked Clark.

“One more song’s-worth dance on the dance floor, then back to my stateroom.”

“What’s the point of that? The one-song dance?”

“Right now it might have looked to some like I left with both of you. I want to be seen leaving with you alone.”


* *
The fact that neither Clark nor Leigh were striving to have sex upon their return to her stateroom and instead were happy doing anything involving intimate closeness ironically made for smoother sailing to another round of very satisfying scintillating slow sex. Technically outercourse humping her fattened inner thighs wholly outside her vagina (and indeed all of her vulva), Leigh didn’t know whether it was more exciting the way he was attacking her small breasts like giant treasure chests with his boob-hungry boob-skilled mouth, or feeling him get all the way off with absolutely no messy goo… at least his.


They had another shower, together this time, immediately before (sleeping in) bed, because they could, because it was sensual, and because it made it easier for Leigh to remove her cosmetics.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
Eureka! Love! Gimme Samoa!

Around 5 in the morning, in-bed Little Spoon Leigh Downs woke to a profoundly intense sensation, as Big Spoon Clark Barr continued to peacefully sleep, his arms wrapped gently and lovingly around her. {Holy rigatoni! There’s a hot fleshy redwood tree between my buns!} The entirety of the experience felt so soothing and loving, Leigh felt yet another momentary touch of vertigo—the “falling” for falling in love! It was all good: rationally she knew she wasn’t physically falling anywhere, and if she was, Clark was right there with her, at least somewhat literally embedded in her, as one.

{He feels huge. And he fits better because my butt’s fatter. No wonder he’s into BBW!}

She drifted back to sleep to the wonderful feelings, gently caressing one of his arms while she remained somewhat awake.


* *
Daylight morning found Leigh and Clark lost to all-encompassing restful blissful love: mouths unable to speak, being too busy kissing, over and over. Hands unable to gesticulate, too busy obsessively caressing every possible in-reach sensual sexy surface of their lover. Their mutual love consumed them, temporarily obliterating awareness of the rest of the universe.

Sexual lovemaking eased into the mix in its own time, organically one as part of the whole of expressing their affectionate romantic caring love. It felt like a welcoming homecoming to them both as his love log logged in to her, shall we say, pleasure pocket. That was truly wonderful and felt great, but by no means was genital contact the center of attention even in the engorged heat of the moment—their glittering eyes upon each other or kissing lips (and sometimes wandering tongues) along with ever-caressing hands never let up, even as they added genital intercourse. It was about as all-encompassing as human loving can be!


Nearly an hour and a half after first both waking and getting into all this, they wound active loving down towards restful cuddling enough for the first words of the day to be spoken, by Leigh, still caressing him. “Any interest in being my cruise boyfriend, going steady with me?”

“Yes please (kiss). Sure you want to limit your options like that?”

“Given the various flavors of infection forever going around plus the famous new one, along with evolutionary forces within predisposing me as a human female to be choosy regarding with whom and how many I’m intimate, along with the insanely powerful love I feel for you and with you, yes I am totally good limiting my options. What about you, with your evolved predisposition to multiply mate?”

“Before you starting yesterday I’d already had more variety in days than I normally do in a year or two, at least. It speaks volumes—at least to me—that you’re the only one with whom I’ve awoken in the same bed in the morning on this voyage. I like variety. I believe many if not most humans crave new experiences and variety across the various genders and preferences. This love I’m feeling with you is terrifying in terms of its all-encompassing nature and addictive power.”

She caressed his cheek, a hint of whimper or whine in her voice, “Why would that be terrifying instead of beautiful?”

“Because my experience is it doesn’t last. At least not over the long term.”

“I’m not asking to be engaged to you {right now}, Neener (kiss). What I’m suggesting is long short-term: the remaining 8 days of our 15 day cruise loop cycle, until I get off at my home port.”

“You’re going to edge between now and arriving in San Diego before you next get off?!” he teased, laughing.

“Not with you anywhere near me, Mister Love Log!” She gave him a playful-not-hurtful backhand thwock to his upper chest.

“Is that all I am to you?”

“No, and you know it!” she exclaimed with a loud, long, deep punctuating smooch. “You’re everything and prolly too much to me, because if things keep going like this I won’t want to end it 8 days from now, or even dial it down.”

“I’ll keep an open mind about relocating to be near you, in the unlikely-to-me chance that my part of Us feels as strongly about being with you then as I do right now.” Smooch!

Moisture then a couple of tears rolled out of her eyes. “That means more to me than you have any idea. Having seen more of San Francisco, I’ll reciprocally keep an open mind about finding work near you.”

“Santa Clara where I am’s not the same thing. It’s more suburban, like a lot of Los Angeles County and where you are.” Kiss.

“I know. (kiss) So what are we doing today?”

“Do you know how giddy what you just said is making me feel?” Kiss.

“No.” Kiss.

“In the past I’ve usually been offended when a love interest gets all presumptuous about my doing things together with them. The fact that you and I are both assuming in all we say to one another that we’re going to remain together and do things together fills me with joy nearly to the point of tears.”


Conversation paused for a minute or so of intense cuddles and lip-devouring kissing.


“Since you asked, my vague thought for the day is to get off the ship for at least a few hours, since we’ll be on it the next couple of days again until docking in Portland. I’m not seeing much in the way of compelling stuff to do in or walking distance from Eureka, and a fair bit of disturbing negativity from the locals.”

“Like what negativity?”

“Junkies and addicts shooting up and acting as panhandlers around downtown and the waterfront area, mostly.”

“That would suck. I’d read that shopping is something to do, but we already know that’s not a goal of mine. Maybe just walking cuddly-close holding hands and looking at the architecture will be fun.”

“Breakfast on the ship, which frugal me would prefer? Or would you rather try something shoreside?”

“I’m frugal too, Neener (kiss). Let’s kiss and caress our way into clothes for once, and go get that going to keep at least me well-fed.”


* *
The strong love force field Clark and Leigh projected everywhere they went on the Sapphire Prince triggered envy in several and jealousy in a few. A majority of onlookers felt a sense of “Awwwh!” seeing and feeling powerful true love in full bloom.


They made their affectionate way up to the Sky deck, for its open-air buffet—one of two open-air buffet restaurants on the ship, the third being indoors on a lower deck.

“I never knew this was called Jimmy’s Buffet” Leigh smiled, seeing the buffet’s sign for the first time.

“Either that sign wasn’t there before, or something was visually blocking it. Or maybe the change in latitude produced a change in attentive attitude?”

“Stop it, Mister 1970s Oldies” she laughed.

“Good thing you made that plural, otherwise I might have been offended” he smiled, squeeze-cuddling her affectionately.


The sudden appearance of an exceedingly large, soft, presence sloshing up to the buffet serving area caught Clark’s attention and made Leigh jump. “Hey hey cush-loving crusiers!” her brash, full-of-life voice greeted them.

“G’morning Beryl. I don’t think you and Leigh have met yet, have you?”

“Soitenly not.” She turned more fully towards the new-to-her woman, shaking hands, “Big Beautiful Beryl Beech, in your presence and pleased to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, Beryl. I’m Leigh Down.”

“Great name! No wonder Clark’s all over you like butter on my toast will soon be. Bet he likes to lay you down, amIright?” Nudge, nudge.

“He’s definitely logged into me and pulled into my port. We’re both into each other enough that we’re cruise honeys.”

“Going steady” Clark clarified.

{Ohhh kay. Not my way of living!} “If that’s floating your boats and everything’s ship-shape, that’s golden. Hey Brian! What took you so long?”


A newly-arrived man neither Clark nor Leigh had previously seen (or if they had in passing, had not noticed), sidled up to and into Beryl. Long in roundness of his head and short on quantity of hair, the length of what there was of his brown-with-white “Caesar ring” of hair was also quite short. Tall and mixed hard-and-soft thick, his somewhat imposing physical presence was a good match for Beryl’s. Like her, he projected friendliness, in a more reserved manner.


“Needed to sleep in to throw off this lingering cough and energy drain. Hi you two, I’m Brian.”

Pull that hand back, fool! You’re coughing and you may have something, Mister Brian O’Brien. Do an elbow bump.”

“It’s not a dry cough” he noted.

Leigh offered the tip of her left elbow, “Leigh Down is my name.”

“And I’m Clark Barr.”

“Hah! We’re almost a sentence, all together: Brian O’Brien Leigh Down with a Clark Barr on Beryl Beech.” Hack hack! he coughed away from everyone, towards the ground.


Several other cruisers who heard him turned towards the source of the coughing, shooting cold, icy stares.


“That is a dry cough” declared Beryl, putting the back of her hand up against his forehead. “You are overheated, sir, even if not yet burning up. Please, for all that is good in our world, get thee back to your stateroom and isolate.”

“It’s just allergies.”

“Dude: we can’t take that chance! Now get outta here or at least keep a 2 meter distance from the rest of humanity.”

“CDC only requires 1 meter.”

“CDC wants anyone with symptoms quarantined in isolation! Now git!


Reluctantly, Brian left. Whether to his stateroom or another destination, no one knew.


“We’d better all wash up really carefully and start this oh-so-necessary morning feed again. First one of us back claim a table for all of us, please, where no one’s coughing nor otherwise projecting illness.”
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
Leigh and Clark were already parked at a so-far-otherwise-vacant large rectangular table, with his light and her generous self-assembled breakfasts, well before Beryl returned into view, much less loaded with fast-breaking comestibles and heading their way.

She parked her bulk across from them and diagonally offset, the sturdy seating creaking as she sat. “Social distancing, friends. Nothing personal, I assure you! I swear, I do not know what gets into some people. Hhhhh!”

They all felt the urge to dig into their breakfast before conversing further.


Seeing Leigh return to the buffet for seconds on the sausage prompted Beryl to comment upon her return, “Don’t know what your capacity is, my friend of fleshiness, but unless you’re at ninja nommer level as I am, you may find your Samoa Cookhouse experience diminished.”

“What is this cookhouse of which you speak?”

You haven’t heard of the Samoa Cookhouse?! Sister of Squish, allow me to drop the 411! Oh wait, we don’t do that any more in the new millennium. Is 411 even a thing any more?”

Both Clark and Leigh shrugged, neither of them knowing.

With the joy of a fat foodie professor teaching her fat food-loving class, Beryl explained, “The Samoa Cookhouse is one of the top must-visit foodie destinations on this cruise, for anyone who loves to eat! Visualize… An authentic logging camp cookhouse going back a century and still going. Food served family-style at big, long tables—like this except 3 times as long. Maybe twice; something like that. Anyway…. Nothing to pick, because just like when they served the mighty hungry lumberjacks over a century ago, they serve the one entree per day the cook chooses to make, along with all of soup or salad, cookhouse bread, vegetable, potato, dessert, and coffee or tea. All you can eat, friend, for one low fixed price of 15 bucks a person for lunch, which is the only meal to which any of us will be able to do justice, given our ship’s itinerary.”

“But is it any good?”

“It’s basic American logging camp cookhouse food, so it’s not likely to pass muster with Chef Froofy-froo nor any of his peers—which reminds me, I’m so glad Royal Prince has figured out how to track newly-boarded passengers such that only the freshly boarded have to go through the muster drill at their boarding port. But I digress. It’s all about quantity more than quality, but unless things have shitholed, the quality is plenty good enough to keep us hungry honeys wanting more until we simply can’t. It is scratch-made rather than pre-fab, so that ought to be a plus in nearly everyone’s book. It may not exactly be a gainer’s and feedist’s heaven, but it’s a damn nice purgatory on the way up! I know I’m looking forward to packing on some more pounds of luxurious sensual fat, all the way from around when they open for lunch at 11 ’til they’re easing me out the door at the end of lunch at 3.”

The excited look on her face when Leigh turned towards Clark wordlessly let him know that she agreed with his genitals that this was something which needed to happen. Had he reached down to feel hers, he would have discovered that her genitals agreed with his.

During their brief exchange, Beryl took the opportunity to look something up on her handheld, wearing her reading glasses. “Sez here on their Faceskank page that today they’re serving Southern Fried Chicken Breasts for lunch. All we can eat fried chicken! How can ya go wrong wi’ that?!”

“I could go in half on yours and we could share, given how little I’m likely to want.”

“Don’t be a cheapskate, Clark!” Beryl scolded. “First, 15 a pop for all you can eat is more than fair in today’s world for even light eaters such as yourself. Second, they’re harsh on those who try and pull what you’re doing. To each his and her own meal, period. Respect that. Respect the history. Given your FA proclivities, consider your possibly underutilizing yours an investment in lovingly being there for and with Leigh, as she joins me maximizing each of our meal costs.”

“Alright, points taken.”

“So you two in on this?”

“Do we have to do things as a group?” asked Leigh.

“It’s on Samoa, that island over yonder, not in the city of Eureka. This is car country: not a lot of public transit, and not necessarily any I’d personally want to ride. Mister O’Contagion was going to be my accomplice and ride finder, but that’s obviously not happening. What I’m hoping is we can pool coin for a cheap rent-a-wreck for the day, maybe land cruising around a bit to catch some redwoods or something until they open for lunch, or after lunch before our ship sails.”

“I really wanted to walk around Old Town Eureka.”

“How about we finish our breakfast noms, each get back to our staterooms and get ready, and work out the finer points on the dock in, say… half an hour? Is that long enough?”


They agreed it was, and that this plan would work for them.


* *
“This looks cleaner and more junkie-free than I expected” Leigh confided to Clark as they set foot upon Schneider Dock, to the soundtrack of several seagulls flying overhead beneath the morning clouds.

“What I read was several years old. It doesn’t necessarily take a long time to work things out such that that particular issue may have been resolved, or at least attenuated sufficiently.”


“Eureka! You’ve found us!” a bright-eyed booming-voiced brownish-red-haired woman standing behind a black cloth-covered rectangular table greeted them, with an ending giggle. The thin gold chain necklace on her bright red long sleeve cable-knit top followed gravity’s will as she extended her hand for a welcoming shake, “Hi, I’m– oh right, we’re supposed to social distance” she remembered, quickly withdrawing her hand. “Six feet apart and let’s wave at each other. Hiiiiii! I’m Zazz from the Eureka Chamber of Commerce, welcoming you to our historic city.”

“Zaz?” Clark queried.

“It’s Zazu, legally” she more softly admitted. “I prefer Z-A-double Z, but anything polite that’s close to either works for me. Even Hey Chamber of Commerce Lady!, but that’s too many syllables.”

“Whadid I tell you about too many syllables, Clark?” a newly-arrived voice commented.

“Rebecca! Per!” he grinned, annoying Leigh via greeting Rebecca with a hug before his handshake with Per, very obviously paired with Rebecca (at least for now). To Zazz he turned and explained, “We all know each other and have been close in various combinations, so if any of us have anything, we’re all already exposed.” He quickly eased back against Leigh and expedited the introductions between them.


“You all going around as a group?” Zazz asked the group once the introductions concluded.

“Hadn’t planned on it” replied Rebecca, asking Leigh and Clark, “What are you two doing?”

“We’re thinking of a romantic walking tour of Old Town, then if we can work out the logistics driving over together with Beryl to the Samoa Cookhouse” Leigh answered. “Have you met Beryl yet?”

“No.” {Her reputation precedes her, as does her belly.}

“I just met her this morning at breakfast.”

“I’m not one for walking, other than over a limited area such as an arts district.”

“We have one of those” Zazz piped up. “Nice pleasant flat 1 mile walk east of here onto F Street. There’s the Morris Graves Museum of Art in the old Carnegie library at 636 F Street, though it’s not open until noon today.”

“That’s too bad. We have to be over in Samoa at 11.”

“You’re going to the Cookhouse too?” asked Leigh, somewhat hoping the answer was no, so she’d have less competition for Clark’s attention.

“My date for the day and I have decided that it’s a can’t-miss opportunity. Though the museum is tempting.”

“They’re open today until 5, so maybe you could catch it after lunch” suggested Zazz. “Ink People Center for the Arts is only half a block east of the Graves on Seventh, and they’ll be open from as soon as any of us could walk or fast jog from here to there, through 5. If you find yourself wandering north to Second and E, or make a point of doing so, the Old Town Art Gallery is there for you, open 10 to 5 today.”

Rebecca turned to Per, “I’m not gonna want to be walking much of anywhere after lunch, if things play out the way we’re thinking they might.”


“Hey hey crew!” Beryl called out as she slowly waddled ever-nearer. Once she arrived amongst the group she asked, “Are we all worked out on who’s arranging the ride and what we’re doing? Hey there Per’s paired peach! I’m Beryl.”

“Good to meet you. I’m Rebecca, the wannabe Cali girl of 20 years who according to native son Clark has yet to shake the born-and-bred New Yawwwker out. I was just saying I’m not intending to walk much after a Samoa Cookhouse lunch, so any art galleries or museums are going to have to happen now or soon, pre-lunch.”

“You’re going with us too?! Awesomme! We can all rent a bulky babe-capable SUV together and do our own group tour!”

“Clark and I really wanted to walk the downtown, or wherever the older buildings are.”

“Old Town is what you want for that” Zazz advised.

“There’s always an athletic hiker BoBerry-type BBW amongst us” Beryl sighed. “Good on you, Leigh; you’ll prolly outlive us all.”

“Any suggestions for car rentals?” Per asked Zazz.

“I wouldn’t know what qualifies as a ‘bulky babe-capable SUV’, but give both Hertz and Rent-A-Dent-A calls.”


The group moved aside so others coming off the ship could be greeted by Zazz and access the greeting table none of them had truly inspected.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
It is unlikely that any 2 lovers have ever been more lost to love of each other than Leigh Down and Clark Barr. Their love force field apparently joined in with moisture in the air to create a deep, thick pea soup love fog. Invisible to the eye, it affected the romantic hearts of those who neared them. For the loving pair themselves, it wholly enveloped them. Everything about Old Town Eureka looked prettier and nicer than it actually was, through their loving mental filters.


As they meandered near an outdoor supply store, the sound of a very brief horn Beep! caught their attention.

They could see Beryl leaning out the window of a decent-looking generously-sized SUV. They along with everyone within half a block heard her yell, “Hey lovers! Stop walking off all the good stuff and get in here with us! It’s cookhouse tiiiiimee!


Driver Per eased the vehicle into the parking lot immediately in front of the pedestrian pair.


Leigh was displeased to find out how relatively little space there was. With Per and Rebecca in the front seats, big Beryl in the back, and this being a 2-row vehicle and not a 3, it was going to be a squishy ride no matter what the seating order.

“You’re welcome to sit into me if you want” Beryl told Leigh, seeing her hesitation (and her blocking Clark’s entrance). “I thought we’d all be better off with Clark in the middle.”

{I don’t want to share him! Especially not with you as his very recent huge and sexy lover he might decide he prefers!} she irrationally thought.

“Whatever you two wanna do, let’s please do it. We don’t want to be late for this.”


After a whispered conversation with Clark, Leigh was good. He climbed in and settled himself a normal polite seating distance from Beryl, welcoming his hefty heartthrob atop his lap.

“That’ll work” Beryl nodded as Leigh pulled the door closed. “Let’s roll!


* *
Leigh needn’t have worried: Clark thought of no one else nor even did more than politely and briefly glance at anyone else the whole way over, intoxicated as he was with everything about her.

Even independent Beryl became slightly envious of the immersive love Leigh was receiving. “Better turn the love defrost on, Per: these two are steaming things up so much, soon you’ll not be able to see to drive!”

“Wouldn’t the defrost just make their love hotter, and worsen the situation?” he asked in reply.

Rebecca had a whole other musing, “What I want to know is how flat Clark’s going to come out if we’re in this seating arrangement after lunch.”

“If we’re seated like this and Leigh eats anywhere near as much as maybe you and definitely I am going to eat, not only will Clark be crushed, he won’t be able to get his arms all the way around her wasted waist.”

“I’ll be crushed more than that if I fail to love this amazing woman to anything less than my full ability.”


Clark’s romantic comment made Rebecca feel the need to reach across for a hand squeeze from Per. Beryl contented herself visualizing all she was going to eat, and how much fatter it would make her.


* *
Digestive systems rumbled within the rented SUV as the Samoa Cookhouse came into view. Leigh found herself as taken by the 1890s architecture as anticipation of the forthcoming feast. The long, quirky, partly 2-story partly 1 red-painted clapboard-covered building had enough differently-sized and -shaped white-border windows that she had to wonder whether the sections were built at different times, or if they were using up surplus windows as available. The unassuming red-on-white sign on the side of the building said nothing more than Samoa Cookhouse, presumably because nothing more needed to be said.


The interior proved as authentic as the exterior: white painted wood board walls and ceilings, red drapes, standard red and white checkered tablecloths (albeit modern plastic coated for sanitary reasons and practicality), helmets and boots hung on the wall, real deal old-timey paddle ceiling fans, and more.

“This place never changes,” Beryl grinned, “and that’s a good thing.”

“It’s like a museum” commented Clark.

“It is a museum!” Leigh excitedly pointed out, pointing towards the separate museum room signed COOKHOUSE & LOGGING RELICS with a white on black narrow sign over the wide entryway.

“Later, kids. Time to eat!


Being the middle of the week in March it wasn’t crowded. Being the Samoa Cookhouse and the first day of operation for the week, it wasn’t empty. Each of the many identical rectangular tables sat 10 standard-sized people, 5 to a side in individual chairs.

Beryl parked herself across 2 adjacent chairs not quite in the middle of one side of her chosen table: one along the exterior wall nearest the hung colorful hard hats and one of the larger historic pictures.

“Why don’t you move one seat towards the aisle, so Per can be next to you and me next to him?” Rebecca suggested.

“Because you’re gorgeously huge and I’m gorgeously huge, so it makes sense to me that we should be on opposite sides.”

“But if we’re all over there, that’s 4 of us all on one side.”

“If the love barnacles are over here with me and you and Per are over there, it’s a 3-2 split. Wouldn’t you rather already be sitting pretty and that much closer to food?”

“What if Leigh needs more than one seat?” asked Clark, embarrassing the woman in question.

Beryl looked at him like it was a ridiculous question. “She’ll park her overflow on your lap as always.”


Leigh got things moving taking the wall-nearest seat on Beryl’s side, leaving the one between them for Clark. Per held Rebecca’s 2 wall-nearest seats across from Leigh and Clark to keep them in place as she sat, thereafter taking the middle seat next to his day date, across from Beryl and almost from Clark.


With the only choices to be made being soup or salad and coffee or tea, ordering (such as it was) went lightning fast. Beryl, Per, and Rebecca all had the hearty vegetable soup. Clark and Leigh had the green salad. Entree veggie of the day for lunch was green beans; seasoned potato wedges were the potato option. Clark, Per, and Rebecca had tea; Beryl and Leigh had coffee. Tempting as it was to dig right into the rectangles of carrot cake with smooth glossy white vanilla frosting being served for dessert, only Leigh fell for this beginner fail.

Beryl noticed, advising, “If your system’s anything like mine, starting with dessert may confuse it, leading to reduced overall consumption.”

“What if she’s not trying to push a limit?” Per suggested, in part trying to be a good M&M.

“Then she may be at the wrong lunch venue. Not that I’d know, since I always eat here when I’m passing gas– uh, passing through this area, but sure looked to me like there were a good dozen places in Eureka I’d be parking my posterior and filling my face if I lived around here and wanted a change of pace. But what am I doing talking so much?! There’s food to eat!”


There was, and they all did. Nevertheless over the course of the hours of paced eating and drinking, there were numerous opportunities to share what they’d each been doing around Eureka earlier as a conversational starting point, moving from there to other non-contentious subjects (to keep everyone’s digestive systems calm and optimized).


* *
Somewhat after 1 PM when one of the servers was back for the umpteenth time, Beryl asked around the table regarding what might be needed. “More brrreaaaasts for bigger breasts, right ladies?”

Everyone agreed that more fried chicken breasts would be good, with Clark and Per each getting a second wind after taking very long breaks from eating anything. Only Leigh felt the stabbing pains of breast envy and knowing that even if she could and did eat all the chicken breasts on the premises, her breast growth would be minuscule. Looking at Beryl’s and especially Rebecca’s existing massive orbs, the latter directly across from her and so tantalizingly eye-catching obvious, made the envy thus the pain worse.

Clark felt her tension. He didn’t need to know exactly what was going on with her (though he had a fairly good idea) to be able to soothe her via affectionate caresses and light hip fat squeezes.

Given how she knew she excelled at generating and carrying wide, fat hips, this did indeed soothe her. So did defying Beryl’s suggestion and interleaving more slices of cake with the savory items, so far with no deleterious effect on her eating.


* *
Per and Clark looked on in amazement as the 3 BBW they loved (or had loved) kept right on going well into the 2 PM hour—the final hour of lunch. Per barely had enough room to sip his tea; Clark was too full for even that.

Yes, there was a hint of competition between the women, each for their own exact reason(s). Mostly they all 3 truly were big eaters with big capacities, even if 2 of them hadn’t been exercising their capacities anywhere near their full range in any recent month, or year.


Three absolutely packed absolutely huge women exited the Samoa Cookhouse just past 3 PM. The only reason Leigh Down stopped a quarter hour before Beryl and Rebecca was so she and Clark could look in the museum. Given how stuffed she was and how tight her clothes were, it wasn’t easy!
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
Getting back in the SUV proved amusing. Not only was it a challenge, once inside neither Rebecca nor Beryl could fasten their seatbelts—and they each had extenders in place already!

“How ya doin’, Clark?” Beryl asked, once everyone was inside (in the same seating arrangement as before).

“I definitely feel the difference.”

“What are we doing?” asked driver Per.

“Anybody up for a road trip?”

Uuuaagh! No thank you!” was Rebecca’s response to Beryl’s question.

“Bouncing and movement is suboptimal, so no please” was Leigh’s.

“I’m with them. Back to the ship please, kind sir.”


He eased them on their way, driving as gently as he knew how.


* *
Unsurprisingly, none of the fully-fed feedees/gainers (at least on this day at this meal) wanted to walk any more than necessary. Per managed to drive them all the way in as far as possible near Schneider Dock, minimizing their walk to under 200m, all the way from the SUV to onto the Sapphire Prince.

Being a pro at being routinely enormous and more so after a huge meal, Beryl waddled her way up the gangway and to her stateroom solo.

Rebecca wanted Per’s help, and the vehicle wasn’t sitting in any sort of even medium-term parking space. Clark and Leigh agreed to wait in the vehicle whilst Per helped guide, spot, and possibly support Rebecca on her overstuffed slow shuffle back to her stateroom. Per left the keys in the vehicle in case they needed to move it during his absence.


“Oy. (huff) This is… (puff). Wow, that was a big lunch (huff)” Rebecca gasped out between labored breaths, on her struggle up the gangway.

Sad though he was regarding whatever exact discomfort she was feeling, Per couldn’t help being profoundly aroused being so near her, seeing how vastly much fat she carried, and how so much of her was in sensual motion. Tempting as it was to his instincts to move faster towards intimacy with her, his mind well-heeded Clark’s advice, holding those instincts at bay.

He wound up being a very good approximation to a perfect FA gentleman, getting her comfortably settled in her stateroom with all she needed, then leaving her in peace.


* *
“Thanks, Per! See you!” Clark called out as he and Leigh waved, the rental SUV easing away from them back into town and its rental agency home.


Turning towards her man, powerful love overcame Leigh’s physical discomfort. There on the dock, she clasped each of his hands in hers, easing them together for a kiss.

Something made this process more difficult than usual, however.

“Even rationally knowing how much you ate, I cannot believe how big and relatively firm your belly is.”

“Lean over more and let’s kiss please, then take me inside.”

“How do you mean that last clause?”

“We’ll talk, later.”


* *
EhHEH EhHEH EhHuuh

Heeeeee
huuuuuuu. Heeeeee huuuuuuu

Whhheeeeeeeezzz!


Coughs, wheezing, and more could be heard all over the Upper Promenade Deck, from passing-by cruisers in the halls with them, others they passed by standing out in the hallway, and even from behind closed doors of staterooms they passed.

This sounds more like a hospital ward than a cruise ship” Clark near-whispered to lover Leigh as she waddled and he walked with her through the deck’s interior hallways, towards her stateroom.

I know. It’s freaky!


* *
Thankfully things were quiet, lovely, and peaceful within Leigh’s stateroom, once they were inside with the door closed.


“Why are you so diligently working to get me out of my clothes when yours are so much more confining?”

“Silly Neener!: I need to see what your neener does when you undress me.”

“My neener’s nearly always at least half grown any time I’m around you.”


Once he was fully nude, she presented herself for undressing.

Footwear and socks were straightforward, unexpectedly exciting to her when he spontaneously massaged her feet.

“Big Yes on the foot massage, but please pretty please once I’m freed from these constraining garments.”

“Damn, Chonk! I can’t believe you haven’t popped any buttons yet!”

“It’s getting close. You’re going to have to start with the pants since my top’s tucked into them, even though that may make removing the top anticlimactic.”

“Taking your clothes off is never anticlimactic” he definitively assured her. “Can you breathe in at all?”

Hhhhhh.

“No, that’s just making it tighter.”

“I’ll breathe out all the way, now.” Hhaaaaaaaaaa.


The struggle was real. Nevertheless, working as a team, Clark barely managed to get her vastly over-tight pants unbuttoned then unzipped. “Jeezo Piezoelectric, you’re huge!

“You’re not finished yet. Are you going to unbutton my top and get it off me, or shall I?”


Diligently he got to work, starting from the bottom, where it was tightest. Soon enough it was off her. Moments later, so was her bra.

“Lordy Berry Gordy! Your panties are buried so deep in you!”

“Believe me I know! Care to get them off of me now, pretty please?”


To Clark’s amazement, even sliding this overburdened undergarment off proved difficult: its elastic was already stretched to its absolute limit! Once all of her belly was out of it (and only somewhat under half had been in it, the remainder of removal proved straightforward, if still not necessarily easy.

“Ahhhhhh” she sighed with relief the moment they were off and she was fully nude. “So nice to finally be able to breathe freely again.”

“Damnation Plantation!”

“What?”

“Are you OK, Chonky? Those are wicked deep garment indentations!”

“They’ll go away, now that you’ve freed my flesh.”

Watching her slosh into a more comfortable, restful position atop the bed led to another exclamation, “You’re massive!

“Thank you.”

“You look like you’re loaded with quadruplets and near term!”

“Thankfully I have no idea what that would actually be like. Prob-ly about this size, though.”

The way she gently rubbed her own hugely-distended belly looking peaceful and contented shot a powerful jolt of lust through Clark.

“Care to get back to that foot massage whilst I take care of my belly like this?” she gently smiled his way.


She didn’t need to ask twice: he was her cruise boyfriend, utterly lost to loving her. Anything he could possibly do for her even remotely within his comfort zone and ability, he’d do.


* *
Over in her stateroom, Rebecca struggled with whether she felt comfortable inviting Per over to gently rub her belly and otherwise care for her. The desire and need were assuredly there; the problem being her longstanding unease exposing her middle body to anyone she’d yet to get to know and trust exceedingly well.


* *
Beryl Beech had no such qualms over in her stateroom. By chance, she’d been respectfully and politely propositioned by a pair of identical twins, who candidly admitted neither of them had ever done it with a very fat woman, and hoped for the opportunity. Beyond being easygoing and dignified, empowered easy, her experience equipped her to be good at reading people. These two brothers, Devin and Kevin Cleven, very clearly came across to her as subbish—and horny, like her!

During their soft private hallway discussion, she explained her fullness situation and that it would be many hours of worshipping her in ways which let her rest and kept pressure off her belly until her body had time to digest her massive meal before they could get into “the good stuff” (her exact words).

Her estimation of their intent, orientation, and abilities paid off: she was currently enjoying arousing, sexual gentle caresses, kisses, and licks all over her body as she lay restfully and comfortably atop her bed. So were they.


* *
By this time over in Leigh’s stateroom, Clark was cuddled up next to her, lost to the bliss of caressing her swollen belly. She lost herself equally to slowly caress-stroking his to-her breathtakingly engorged flesh banana.

Motion through the outside window/door caught his attention. “Looks like we’re sailing.”

She looked, then nodded. “We may be on the water and back in motion, but I feel like I’m floating on a cloud.”

“Yes, these are especially nice beds.”

“Being with you, Neener! (kiss). That’s what really has me floating on a cloud. (kiss)”


Hhhnnnnn” she softly sighed, “I’ve always dreamt of a man able to seamlessly combine deep romantic affection and restful all-out sexuality at the same time.”

“Hopefully I’m that man. At least for the duration of this cruise.”

“You’re not like this all the time?”

“I think I am, but the concept has never been tested. I was thinking more about the eventual end of the cruise, and going back to our separate lives.”

“Don’t think about that tonight, please. Not only is it a sad thought—to me, at least—but it’s the future. As always, thinking about the future or the past takes one out of the present.”

“How Buddha-like, for which you certainly have the belly. (kiss)”

“Kiss my Buddha belly too, please” she asked, her eyes heavy from relaxation, bliss, and tiredness.


Letting him reposition himself to kiss her belly did mean that she needed to let go of his neener. The orgasm which caught both of them wholly by surprise set in motion by the unexpectedly sensual sensations of his repeated, varied kisses all over her bloated belly made this letting go of gland a minor loss.

Another brief look out the window brought a moment of wistfulness to Clark. “Goodbye Eureka” he softly sighed.

“I’ve taken a good bit of neighboring Samoa with us” Leigh smiled, bringing his attention back to her belly via her hand claiming and moving his atop it. “Of which, come on back up here and cuddle next to me, so you can gimme Samoa whole body edge affectionate intimate cuddly love, and I can give you Samoa of the world’s slowest hand job.”
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
“Your hand job is just my speed” he smiled as he repositioned per her request. “Faster ones are too intense for me. You’re an Angry Samoans fan, I take it?”

She shook her head slightly, looking unsure. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“California punk band from the late 1970s. Who, as far as I could tell from the few photos I ever saw of the band members, had no actual Samoan members. Their full catalog CD compilation album was titled Gimme Samoa: 31 Garbage Pit Hits.”

“Wait—did they do that song about Rodney Bingenheimer needing to get off the air?”

“That’s them.”

“Alright. I know at least one out of the 31. Are you big into punk rock?”

“Nah, not any more. It mattered a generation or two ago, less so now. Very negative culture, too. I still like to hear some of the old songs on occasion, but it hasn’t been a big part of my life since we were young and it was new and the current happening thing. What about you?”

“I was more New Wave than punk: more poppy and upbeat. Except when I got my Goth on. Musically—I never dressed the part.”


They cuddled and sexually caressed quietly for awhile. Occasionally they could hear the waves breaking against the coast they were at the moment leaving for the open ocean. More frequently they heard (and tried to ignore) occasional loud, labored coughing from other nearby staterooms. It sounded as though those doing it were coughing things up.


“I’m assuming you’re not going to want dinner tonight.”

“I’m not?”

“You are?!”

“I’m not going to eat a big meal like at lunch, but yes, I was planning to get a little something small and light. Maybe a salad, delivered by room service, with tea we brew here. Hopefully kindly you, so I can lie here and continue converting lunch into more fat.” Giggle giggle

“What’s giving you the giggles?”

“The way you nearly instantly got a lot harder when I told you I plan to have something for dinner.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! I know what this is about—you and your needs.”

“Desires aren’t needs.”

“Extremely strong ones can be. Like your need for romantically and sexually loving very fat women, and my need to now and then let go of life constraints and eat freely. Thankfully these deep needs of ours happened to meet on this cruise, hence this glorious love. (kiss)”

“What life constraints keep you from eating freely during the normal course of your life?”

“The main one is the entire category of mainstream society’s fat hate, phobia, and/or disgust, none of which I hope I have to explain to you, seasoned FA that you are.”

“Granted we’re all different and you’re not Beryl, but none of those things seem to be stopping her.”

“I don’t know what-all she’s about. Clearly she’s a forthright, bold gainer and maybe also a feedee, and from what I gather running high in terms of sex drive. Is she a sex worker?”

“Sex professional? No.”

“They’re professionals now?!”

“They’ve always been! Just not given that respect. Out of one side of the mouth people call them names like ‘prostitute’, the out of the other side of the same mouth say ‘oldest profession in the world’. Can’t have it both ways: it’s a profession or it isn’t. I think it is, I think they’re professionals right up there with physicians and attorneys and definitely at or above engineers such as myself.”

Pffffft!” she blew off the idea. “Do you moonlight as the ad agency for a brothel or something?”

Nooo.”

“Regular customer?”

“I’ve never once been with a sex professional. These are people who not only have to monitor the pulse of their marketplace and provide services accordingly in line with their abilities and interests, they have to have wicked mad customer service skills! It’s daunting enough when an independent contractor or a business has an irate customer after them at arms-length or greater distance, but it’s a whole other bunch of levels up having one intimately touching you, likely with all of both your clothes off! Independents who aren’t working in some system or service or firm like a brothel have the whole sales layer on top of that, demanding even more professionalism out of them. On what planet do people doing this sort of risky high-level skilled work get called anything less than professionals?! To me it’s all about respect. I don’t use their services for my own reasons, but as a class and unless proven otherwise for certain individuals who may not be at that level, they have my full respect.”

“What about those of us who would never consider that line of work?”

“You all have my total respect too!” He added a series of kisses to further emphasize his reply. “So you’re not Beryl, we don’t know what’s up with her and it’s not relevant to you in any case. I do clearly keep in my mind what you said about being into the food and not the fat side-effect, which to me is the primary feature. I’m clear on the nauseatingly awful situation with large-sized women’s clothing in terms of price, availability, lack of reasonable fit, and so on. I’m angered by the medical system’s blindness to their own fat hate, but then I’m angered by orthodox medicine in general, and especially as practiced in the U.S. in any recent decade. Though I’ve not personally experienced it because of my body and gender presentation being totally different, via plentiful reading I at least mostly understand the incessant bullshit fat people continue to endure after far, far too long and the good work of many individuals and a few organizations like NAAFA. What I am struggling to understand is why if foodie joy is a need for you, you feel you have to suppress that need during your regular life and only fulfill it on occasional vacations such as this. Or am I hilariously off-base with your reality?”

“No, you’re pretty much there. In terms of needing to suppress, seems to me it’s the same reason you probably don’t bone BBW at work where you work. We all—OK, most of us—have needs we may not be able to fulfill whenever we want. Living in our consensus reality, I don’t enjoy the fatness side-effect, which always happens when I meet my foodie needs. I balance that by some foodie fulfillment in the course of my normal life along with lots of gym time, so I stay chunky instead of chonky because thinness is not an option for my body makeup and genetics, and to minimize the fat hate, ignorance, and all that and maximize the accessible, affordable clothing options, medical gowns, blood pressure cuffs, chairs and related seating, and other aspects of participating in normal life in our world.”

“Hypothetically, how would you feel about the fat side-effect of your foodie joy if we lived in a world where society was at least as neutral about body fat as it is about eye color, or maybe more neutral?”

“That’s not a fair question to ask when you’re making me want to bond with you forever via your ultra-sexy-sensual caresses of my bulging belly.”

“Why not?”

{Is it not obvious?!} “Because I’m lost to love of every kind with you including passionate sexual love and everything about being fatter drives you even more wild and in love with me wholly beyond your control and totally under my control in terms of my fattening, which dovetails with my foodie lust! That’s why! And that’s why I’m more than OK doing what we did today, being here now with you doing what we’re doing now including having this conversation, why I fully intend to keep eating for the duration of this cruise or nearly that long as my food joy dictates and especially if it enhances the passion aspects of our love. That’s also why I’m torn between going to the gym tomorrow for a good workout, recalling what you told me about the world being your gym and that you’re not a gym person thus you’ll not likely accompany me there, or whether to blow off the gym for maximum fat side-effect, thus maximum loving sex-positive romance between us.”

“Think they’ll let me watch you from the outside? Seeing a fat woman in tights with her fat rolling, sloshing, swaying, and bouncing all over the place as she’s working out is a real turn-on” he lasciviously grinned.

“Even though it means I’m burning off some of the fat?”

“Yes, because everyone needs exercise and movement for health, and most especially because it’s your body and it makes you happy to exercise. I’d be an idiot FA to block you or anyone’s joy of movement!”

“Dammit Neen! You’re making me love you more than I already do, and that’s not possible!” she exhorted, pulling him into an even deeper on-bed side cuddle with her.

“If they won’t let me watch from outside, or maybe even if they would, as long as my presence in the gym won’t take away from another cruiser’s gym opportunity, I’ll go to the gym with you tomorrow whenever you go.”

The thought shot a powerful burst of joyous energy through Leigh. “You will?!

“That’s what I just said, yes. Under the conditions described. I don’t even have to be behind you staring at your stunning and stunningly fat ass and hips, much as I’d prefer that. Nor was my expression of my on-you clothing preference any sort of requirement.”

“Stretchy black leggings are all I’m going to be able to fit into tomorrow, that I brought with me. I’ll look fat as fuck in them, but that’s OK because it’ll keep your neener big and hard for the righteous fat fuck we’ll enjoy back here after the gym and before we shower.”


More in love than ever, Leigh Down and Clark Barr had many other exciting exercise-related discussions to share this night, as the Sapphire Prince glided north along the western coast of the United States, for the near-term leaving California behind.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
Closed and Hacking

Leigh awoke to another of those pre-dawn love-log-in-buns plus profoundly powerful affectionate and romantic cuddly love moments that seriously and compellingly made her want to do rash things to forever more continue to have this extremely blissful experience. Clark, as usual, remained asleep through his tree trunk tumescence. She wondered whether he had any awareness whatsoever that his hands were gently repeatedly squeezing her belly fat.

She drifted back to sleep, loving all the feelings and the whole experience, dreaming of the fun they’d have on this new day—sharing it together!


* *
Hhhhhhh huuuuuu hhhhhhh huuuuu Aaaaaahhhh! Oh, Chonky! Aaaahh! You’re so… succulent! Hhhhhh And faaaaat!

“Hhh hhhh hhh hhh Oh Neener! Hhh hhh I love this! Hhhh hhhh I love you inside me! Hhhh Aauuggh Yess! Grab my fat! I love you feeling my fat! And feeling your neener!


Clearly, Clark and Leigh were thoroughly enjoying each other sexually, to start their morning. This 12th. of March 2020 Thursday was voyage day 8 for her, day 7 for him. It and much of the following day would be excellent at-sea days to enjoy all the Sapphire Prince had to offer. At the moment, neither of them could think of anything better than her stateroom’s “cloud” bed, as a cloud-like sex platform.

It was great sex, with a great ending more about a love bond frightening in magnitude than orgasms, though truly both of those. Faster, more intense, and more stereotypical than usual in these ways, their push to finish and move on was driven as much by anticipation of sharing breakfast and a gym workout as their immediate intense passions that refused to wait.


* *
HaaaAAhuuu Hulllp PTTT! one cruiser passing Leigh and Clark by in one of the wider hallways spit a big opaque colorful glob into his handkerchief.

Thaaat’s nice” she sarcastically whispered to her love.

Let’s keep walking, and be sure to wash our hands before breakfast.


* *
In one of the larger public areas, they heard a loud AAAAAAAAACHOOO!, with people scrambling to get away from the sneezer, and others cursing her.


* *
Taking the elevator, a fellow passenger continually sniffed and snorted, her breathing sounding like she had gravel in her lungs. “Does it feel hot to you in here?” she asked.

“No” replied Leigh, shaking her head as was Clark.


* *
Leigh couldn’t believe what she was seeing on the Sky deck, as they approached Jimmy’s Buffet. “Waaa? ‘All buffets are closed? Please use one of our standard restaurants or room service’?”

Clark pulled them closer together with his wrapped-around-her arm, “What were you hoping to have?”

“I didn’t and don’t know, which is why I wanted a buffet” she responded glumly, with bird lips. “Was hoping for inspiration.”

“Here I was hoping for an explanation regarding why the buffets are closed.”

“Sanitary reasons” a nearby crew member responded, having overheard them as he was swabbing the deck with what to him was an overpowering alcohol-based cleaner, which neither Leigh nor Clark smelled at all. “Too many COVID-19 cases on board, so Captain Cranch and Royal Prince management have agreed to step up CDC-recommended procedures.”

“But Royal Prince Cruise Lines flies under the flag of Panama, doesn’t it?”

“Oh don’t I know it! Thing is we operate mostly on the west coast of the U.S. serving a majority of U.S. passengers. The captain is God at sea under most foreign flags, thus when he says we’re following the CDC recommendations of his choosing, that’s what’s going down.”


Leigh paused to think about how “going down” was not a phrase she wished to be hearing on a ship at sea—at least not from a crew member!


“Honestly, all this food comes out of galleys of the same design run by the same people, other than Glissando with its name-brand chef and hoity toity ‘kitchen’. Just pick one of the sit-down get-served restaurants that’s not overcrowded and has what you want and call it good.”

“Thank you.”

“You got it—no handshaking, though!”

“Sorry; thanks!” Clark saluted, not knowing what else to do.


Turning his attention back to Leigh, he saw she was looking at something on her small portable screen. “What’s happening in handheld land?”

“Was checking to see whether the Royal Prince app had any stats on available seating or reservations for the restaurants.”

“And?”

She looked up from her screen towards him with a hybrid vexed-amused expression, “App’s down.”

“On the back end.”

“Probably. I’ll take your word for it” she grinned, pushing her plush butt into him, “You certainly seem to be well-versed in back ends and pay close attention to them.”

He pulled her in tighter so he could kiss the back of her head.

After she turned around for a proper intimate hug and kiss, they were on their way to find an open breakfast venue.


* *
“I may not have to go to the gym if we wind up covering every possible deck with a restaurant on it” Leigh commented during their search on the big Grand Promenade deck.

“How many more do we have?”

“Restaurants or decks?”

“Either.”

“Three of each: decks and restaurants. One per deck that we have yet to check.”


Glissando wasn’t open for breakfast, and wasn’t what they wanted anyway. Sip And A Wink Pub and Home Comfort were both full, which is to say as full as the new rules allowed, with every other table required to be empty to ensure sufficient social distancing.


It wasn’t until they made it up to the Lido deck and found the small Oasis restaurant open and not overcrowded that Leigh and Clark felt they had a chance for breakfast.

“Hold on please, folks” the hostess which the Oasis didn’t usually have greeted them, along with a body block at the entrance.

“I see all kinds of open tables” said Clark.

“Those have to remain vacant, to keep the virus at bay.”

It amused Clark the way hostess Felicia (per her name tag) dipped her voice down and avoided calling SARS-CoV-2 by name (if she even knew the name), as though the virus might hear her and strike viciously.

Leigh, who was getting hungrier by the moment, was less amused. “Not even an opening for someone on the Pampered Gem plan?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s a matter of social distancing per the captain’s directive, applying equally to all fare levels. It’ll only be a few minutes until an in-service table becomes available. Let me get your name and then you two can go enjoy the view over nearer the pool, and I’ll call you when a table opens up.”


Reluctantly, they went along with this least-worst option. With several newcomers approaching the restaurant projecting airs of malaise and sounds of wheezy breathing, they felt just as good establishing some distance.


* *
Leigh managed to get her breakfast burrito: another avocado green tortilla one at that. “Same lackluster flavor as the one from the buffet” she sighed.

“You know why that is, yes? And why my burger is nice and hot and the texture’s good, but the flavor’s on some other cruise?”

“Yes, and we’ve discussed this and I really don’t want to think about it.”


She so very much didn’t want to think about COVID-19 that her mind wholly suppressed any awareness of how she was feeling a touch feverish. Her fatigue she easily chalked up to all the walking carrying around more of herself from yesterday’s massive lunch meal.

Coughing and wheezing amongst other cruisers at other tables in the small restaurant repeatedly dragged her mind back to this unwanted subject.


Hack! Hack! “None of this food has any taste to it!” came from a raspy-coughs gentleman in Leigh’s sight, diagonally nearest them behind Clark.

Before she could clear that comment out of her mind from the table diagonally behind her to her left she overheard, “The morgue’s full, Tim. It only holds 4. They’re going to be putting them in the food walk-in freezer, I just know it!”

“If the sickies would just stay in their staterooms instead of coming into places like this, we wouldn’t have this problem! Is this table salt some new healthy de-flavorized variety, or what?”

Others at other tables coughing and/or wheezing were speaking in languages wholly foreign to Leigh’s ears, adding no information she could understand.


Between all this and the impatient line of waiting cruisers forced to wait outside peering hungrily through the windows, both Leigh and Clark wound up eating less and faster than they otherwise would have. Tough to tell whether they were happier getting out of there, or the next people in line were happier that they could finally be seated and eat.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
“You feel so nice” Clark couldn’t help commenting to Leigh on their hip-grinding hand-holding walk (and elevator ride) up to the Sports deck.

“So do you” she smiled his way.

“But I’m all hard and bony, and you’re all soft and—hhhhhh—cushiony.”

“You’re half right: the half about me. You, Neen, are all hard and—hhhhh—hunky” she intentionally mimicked his gasp.


Both being dressed for the gym before going to breakfast saved them time, in hopes of getting a gym slot. For reasons unknown and possibly or possibly not related to the restaurant seating map being down, she’d been unable to make a gym reservation since first trying last night.

Soon as they were actually on the Sports Deck and nearing the Fitness Center they found out why: it was dark and closed. A sign on the door said nothing other than:


CLOSED FOR CLEANING


“That’s less than informative” noted Clark.

The spa was still open, Leigh noted. Given her good experience there before, she figured they’d at least know the story regarding the Fitness Center. “Let’s go find out the deal” she suggested, leading him by the hand and happy that their arm span and her rump size was such that of necessity he had to keep bumping into her butt.


* *
The looks of worry on those behind the counter were concerning.

“Yes. We’ll close right now. Is it in the scheduling system already?… OK, good.… Absolutely.… Thank you. Bye.” Finished with the phone call, after a deep sigh massage therapist Humberto (as revealed on his name tag) told the new arrivals, “Sorry folks, we have to close immediately, per captain’s orders.”

“Why?” asked Leigh.

He looked uneasily towards his on-duty female colleague Gail, then back towards Leigh, “COVID-19. It’s here on board, and it’s spreading too fast. We’ve been disinfecting the whole time—we always disinfect and otherwise use proper cleaning and sanitary procedures—but orders from above per Royal Prince’s interpretation of U.S. CDC guidelines plus other international recommendations are that there’s still too much unknown about the spread, so non-essential services where people gather need to shut down.”

“Isn’t that pretty much everything?! What’s the point of a cruise without a spa, a gym, restaurants, pools, et cetera?”

“I know; I absolutely get it. Captain’s word is law when we’re at sea, so it is what it is.”

“Is that the real reason the Fitness Center is closed?” asked Clark.

“The sign is literally correct—or was, before this newest order came down. Several passenger infections have been traced back to someone who used the Fitness Center for over an hour. Not knowing what equipment and so on he used and with conflicting information on the transmittable lifetime of novel coronavirus on various metals, plastics, foam, and other materials in there, it’s been cleaned and shut down waiting the worst-case longest time estimate to time out. If they were still open, they’d have to close down now along with us.”

“For how long?”

“No idea, sir. This whole thing is unfolding faster than I can believe. The situation changes hour by hour.”

“There’s going to be a lot of sore, stressed, chonky passengers on board if everything remains shut down.”

The way Leigh brightly smiled and grabbed and wobbled her belly fat as she spoke confused the two massage therapists. Little did they know that not only did a part of Leigh not truly mind the exercise shutdown, she was having a blast titillating her man, feeling some of the results against her butt as he stood intimately behind her.

Ill-at-ease from Leigh’s observation (and her prodigious plumpness), Gail thought she might be able to help, at least slightly. “We can’t help with the gym equipment, but if you have someone to massage you, we can help with that.”


* *
Clark and especially Leigh grinned like fools, leaving the spa each carrying a large grocery sack-sized tote bag chock-a-block with massage lotions and oils, extra-soft towels, hand sanitizer, and even a wooden massage roller in her bag and a wooden egg-shaped with 4 feet massage device in his.

“This is going to be even better than either the gym or the spa!” she gleamed.

“Sure you’re OK with missing out on exercise.”

“Better: this gives us more time for sexercise! But I would rather take the stairs back down.”


As they reached the staircase, an announcement blared to life over the ship’s P.A. system.



“Attention cruisers: effective immediately we are under Quarantine Level 1. Quarantine Level 1 requires all passengers who are ill or who have any symptoms of contagious illness to return to their staterooms and self-isolate. Those with symptoms of fever and/or fatigue and/or muscle pain and/or dry cough are at particular risk for transmitting COVID-19 disease. Those with minor breathing difficulty must return to their staterooms and contact the infirmary immediately. Anyone with moderate to high breathing difficulty and/or chest tightness please proceed immediately to the infirmary for triage. All cruisers are urged in the strongest possible terms to social distance a minimum of 2 meters or 6 feet, avoid touching your face, and please wash your hands well: 20 seconds at least with soap and water, or hand sanitizer. More information and the most current updates are available from your stateroom’s infotainment system and the Royal Prince app. Thank you for your understanding and cooperation, and for sailing with us on the Sapphire Prince.”



The message repeated multiple times, next in Spanish, then Italian, then German, then Chinese, then Japanese, before the entire loop repeated a second time, starting from the initial English version of the announcement. It went on long enough that they’d returned to Leigh’s stateroom before the last cycle completed.


* *
Soon as her stateroom door was closed and locked and they’d set down their spa goody bags, Leigh sunk herself into her handsome hunk, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh dear. Isn’t it too bad that you’re going to have a very fat cruise girlfriend, because of the Fitness Center closure?” Her beaming grin came through in her teasingly sarcastic tone, making it abundantly clear that she too looked forward to her seemingly forthcoming burgeoning abundance.

“You don’t seem sad about that.”

“I’m not sad.” Hack! “Excuse me! And I’m very hot for you!”

He held the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re very hot in general, Chonk. Sexily yes of course, but here I mean thermally. Honestly, Leigh: how do you feel?”

“Tired” she sighed. “More so than I ought to be, so early in the day. I’m going to be so pissed if I caught this thing.”

“That’s better than worried.”

“Oh, I’m that too! I’m in the elder age category more greatly affected by it.”

“So am I, and I still think it’s a steaming mountain of bullshit, using age as a proxy for a weakened immune system, or the ability for the person’s immune system to respond.”

“The statistics show it’s true.”

“There’s insufficient data for true minimally-biased statistics! They’re not testing zillions of people who likely have been exposed and are asymptomatic!”

“I don’t wanna argue with you. And I don’t want to be sick, and maybe die!

“Too bad it’s not sunny today, else you could go sit in the sun on your balconette and absorb some vitamin D.”

“Why not you too?!”

“Because” he nose-rub kissed her, “you are contagious.”

“Then you just infected yourself!”

“We’ve been kissing like crazy! Of course I’m exposed to whatever you have. My plan is for you to stay here and rest and start healing, while I go seek out some zinc and vitamins C and D.”

She quickly pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re overly-warm too.”

“That may be, but I’m not coughing nor having other symptoms yet, beyond the anosmia. If you have a scarf I can purloin as a bandana I’ll cover up with that, otherwise I’ll strive to keep my distance from others both for them and for me.”

“Why not just have room service deliver?”

“Betcha they’re vastly overbooked and can’t do it. I believe vigorous in-person lobbying in the infirmary will prove more effective.”

You’ll bring the stronger disease back here!

He grabbed her, striving to be gentle as he shook her, “Chonk!: you’re being irrational! This is one disease! Hasn’t had time to mutate yet. The difference in effect is the difference in each person’s health and immune system response, and for those on meds interactions with the meds. What’s that official CDC boilerplate we keep seeing? Something like ‘Most people develop mild symptoms or are asymptomatic’?”

But we both have fevers!

“Yes we may. Hence why I am going out now to go get some things that along with rest, plenty of fluids, relaxation, and letting go of stress ought to help our immune systems better cope, whether we have everyday rhinovirus, or regular or novel coronavirus, or whatever else.”


Far more like a petulant young newlywed than a mature cruise girlfriend, Leigh provided plenty of pouty whine to Clark along with the only scarf she’d packed, politely demanding that he come right back to her right away, soon as he picked up what he hoped to obtain.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
Knock knock knock


{Ulllgh, I feel awful} thought Leigh as she hefted herself off her bed to answer the door.


Thankfully, it was Clark, and he was properly wearing the scarf bandana.

“How did you do?”

He held up 2 packets, “Two zinc capsules, seen here—that’s it. That’s all they’d give me, at any price I might pay them.”

“You had to pay them for those?”

“No. These and the two packets of two 500 milligram vitamin C tablets were free, and all we get” he concluded with a loud sigh, immediately handing her one of the zinc packets.


As he removed the scarf he asked, “How are things here?”

“Fever-hot, achey, and tiring, or I suppose tired. What’s it like out where I’m not supposed to go?”

“Weird. Some people are acting what I consider rationally, going about their business maintaining distance from those not in their group. Others are acting paranoid, like everyone else is about to launch a COVID-19 rocket grenade straight at them. Still others are acting like nothing’s happening at all, ignoring all distancing and non-contacting advisories. Crew and staff are wiping things down and cleaning like mad, most but not all of them wearing medical masks or those white construction workers’ dust masks. All the ones I saw wore gloves.”

She looked sad, sucking her solitary zinc lozenge.

“We’ll get through this, Chonk” he assured her, gently embracing her.

“Staying with me?” she asked hopefully.

“Unless you want me to go or Captain Dictator requires it, that’s my plan.”

“You sure we’re exposed to each other enough that it’s safe for us to be close to one another?”

“Yes. Along with a functioning immune system and sufficient nutrition, love can heal.”

“Come to bed with me and heal me please.”


Love, in the form of gentle caring affection and companionship did help heal, at least a little bit. So did the zinc tablet.


* *
“Love the tea” Leigh told Clark from the comfort of her “cloud” sick bed. “Wish there was lunch to go with it.”

“You and me both, girlfriend. They’re going to have to step up their delivery game, if too many cruisers are confined to their staterooms.”


They’d ordered lunch in plenty of time: before noon. It was getting on to 1:30 and still no sign of lunch, nor status updates.


“Good thing I ate about 5 lunches-worth at lunch yesterday.”

The blissful look merging with her existing tired-ill-spacey look and especially her circularly caressing her own belly hoisted his sail significantly.


Knock knock knockRoom service!


By the time Clark made it to the door and opened it, the delivery person was long gone.

It was totally worth it to see the gleeful expectant joy of his cruise girlfriend awaiting his delivering the delayed sustenance. Despite being a year older than him and weighing more than he did, in this moment she was his little girl, and he was bringing all he had to care for her.


The juicy lamb potstickers and pork fried rice they shared satisfied them in most ways.

“Mmmmm… I sure am looking forward to getting my sense of taste back” she confided.

“Me too.”

“At least this is hot, and the texture’s nice. How’s your fever?”

“Better, actually.”

“Let me feel.”

“That’s what he said” he giggled.

“Feels are for dessert. Annnd you do feel cooler. How’re you doing that?”

“Zinc, vitamin C, and loving you. Not necessarily in that order, though prolly better in that order with this disease. Would that we had more of the first two starting days ago when we each first noticed the loss of taste, we might not be on the edge of something now.”

“We don’t need more love?”

He nuzzled deep into her side. “I think we’re saturated with that: we have all it’s possible to have.”

C-Huhh, C-Huuh she coughed. “Sorry.”

“Anything coming up?”

“Thankfully no. It’s the dry cough.”


They got back into the food, going through it in fairly short order.

“No, you can’t give me the rest of yourrrs!” she whined, with a punctuating cough.

“Why not? I’m doing fine.”

“You sure?”

“With the innocent, sweet look you’re giving me now, I wish I had a whole other container to give you. Or at least be able to go readily fetch one with minimal hassle, like on a normal cruise when everything’s open” he sighed.

“I could definitely eat it, I’m sure.” Her patting her own fat belly as she commented not only aroused him but also made him feel as though he was bonding deeper in love with her, despite such a thing not being possible. She welcomed the gentle circular belly caresses he gave her as she happily consumed the rest of their lunch.


Claiming the empty containers and utensils from her he asked, “More tea?”

“Not right now, thank you.” Eh-Huuh! “Think we should order dinner now, so it’s ready on time?”

“An hour or so early for that, if the time delay’s about the same. Hopefully they’ll have pulled things together so there’s not so much of a delay. I mean, I don’t really understand what the delay’s about. Normally they have to serve the same number of people, so it shouldn’t be any different at the kitchen end.”

“It’s likely the delivery end.”

“Has to be. I would’ve thought they’d have contingencies in place for this, given how common norovirus is on cruise ships.”


His smile upon returning from disposing of the empties brought out hers. Both of them were excited to get back to on-bed cuddling, notwithstanding the cloud of marginal illness.

The bed bounced a bit as he adjusted into position, during which he noticed something. “Are your hips bigger?”

“My hips are fatter, yes, and you may caress them. As well as any other part of me.”

“That might get us into things you may not feel up to getting into.”

“I’m feeling better now, thanks to the zinc and the vitamin C. And your love!”

He felt and saw the rapid change in her demeanor to one of generous amorousness: the sultry lip puffing-up, her searing sensual gaze aimed directly at him, the sinuous motions she made, her hands slithering like sex snakes onto him, one of them unbuttoning his shirt and slipping in.

“Somebody may want to consider seeking my new fat. Ya never know where I may be hiding it.”

“And here all this time I thought you were hiding it in plain sight” he grinned, slipping his hand under her leggings’ and panties’ waistbands. Once he did and had a quarter minute to feel around, his expression changed to amazement. “My gosh Chonky! I can– I can’t believe how much more of you there is here!”

“Mmm hmm” she purred, knowing what he liked and in this moment liking all she was very much herself.


Passions crept up, clothes crept off. To no one’s surprise and certainly not theirs, Leigh Down and Clark Barr were once again sharing immersive fatlovesex, mostly lying down.


* *
Dinner arrived in a relatively timely manner—much sooner than lunch at around half an hour after they ordered. In the process of serving it, Clark saw something that disturbed him. “Chonk: you’re shivering. If you’re going to remain nude under the blankets, please at least let me get a top for you to wear to cover your upper body out of the blanket.”

She made a pouty bird lip, sighing “Hhhhhhhhhhh, alright.”

With sad puppy dog eyes of sincerity, he caressed her bare, intermittently shivering shoulder. “I want you to get better.”

“I know; so do I. Thing is, hhhhhhhhhh, if this really is COVID-19 and runs 14 days, the cruise will be over before the illness, and I’ll miss out on night after night of sleeping wholly nude in bed with you the way I’d hoped.”

“Hhmmh hhmmh” he chuckled.

“What?” she asked as she snatched the container of spaghetti with meat sauce from him so she could start eating.

“Thinking about how we’ve gone from the first day I boarded where I was close to the last person on the planet you wanted to see, totally ruining your cruise, to now where being anything less than head-to-toe skin-to-skin with me every night will ruin your cruise.”

“Mmrmpf” she mumbled as she chewed, “I wasn’t expecting to discover that we’re compatible beyond what I could have imagined, nor that I’d fall crazy deep in love with you.” Hack! Hack!

He shot her an expectant look.

“There’s a fleecy yellow long-sleeve pajama-like top in the vine suitcase.”

“Is your other suitcase named Hollywood?” he snickered.

“It’s got a vine pattern on it, alright?!” Huuck!


She looked even more adorable once it was retrieved and on her. Far better than that, she ceased shivering.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
Off The Itinerary

“Ulllllggh!” Leigh groaned, upon awakening to the new day’s cloudy, diffuse daylight.

“That’s about how I feel” the tired voice of her just-waking cruise boyfriend responded. “Aches, fever, no energy. How about you?”

“Same things here. I don’t even have enough energy to be angry.”

“Angry about what?”

Hack! “Sorry. About not feeling up to sex.”

“I don’t feel like it either.”

“That’s good, because I won’t feel like I’m letting you down, and terrible, because it’s one fewer cruise romp we get to have before our voyage of ill is over.”

“Is it not possible to get together for sex outside of this cruise?” Eh-HUH Eh-HUH

“500-some miles between us qualifies as a long-distance romance in my book.”

“Where exactly do you live in San Diego?”

“Clairemont, C-L-A-I-R-E mont.”

“We’re about 50 miles closer than your estimate.” Ccchhh “Where’re you going?”

“To make tea, to hopefully soothe our throats, so we don’t”—ACCH!—“cough so much.”


He weakly smiled, enjoying the sight of the rear of his bottomless cruise girlfriend bobbling away, “Wiggle Wobble Shimmer tea?”

“I don’t know that I’ve got any shimmer in me”—Hack!—“with this illness” she told him, looking over her shoulder. “But until near the end of the cruise and I get back into the gym”—Khhh!—“the wiggle wobble’s always there.”


Remaining in Leigh’s stateroom proved no especial hardship, especially given how ill each of them felt. Once ordered, breakfast arrived within 3/4s of an hour, still flavorless to them otherwise OK. Best of all, they were able to eat it nude and cuddling in/on bed, with very light, restful making out amenable to ill passionate new lovers.


* *
Almost exactly at high noon, the speakers in the stateroom’s A/V system spontaneously came to life for an announcement, which they could also hear echoing outside over the P.A. system:

Attention cruisers: effective immediately we have advanced to Quarantine Level 2. In addition to continuing all existing requirements of Level 1, Quarantine Level 2 requires all passengers, crew members, and staff to wear facial protection at all times when outside one’s stateroom or cabin. All non-essential public services and amenities including the Sapphire Stage and Sea Screen theaters, all club and dance venues, Card Shark’s Card and Game Room, retail stores, and buffet and specialty restaurants are closed until further notice. Home Comfort and Dish’s restaurants on the Grand Promenade deck remain open at this time. Seating in both restaurants is highly limited and advanced reservations are required. Room service is recommended as a better option. Cruisers in good health showing no COVID-19 symptoms may move around the ship wearing facial protection and maintaining social distance from others. Limited sun bathing on the Sun and Lido Decks remains available at this time, by advanced reservation and with proper social distancing. Social distancing and facial protection will be monitored by Security. Violators may be confined to their staterooms.

Portland is refusing to let us dock at this time. Captain Cranch and crew remain in active negotiation with the port and other relevant authorities. The most current updates and additional information as well as the reservation and room service functions are available from your stateroom’s infotainment system and the Royal Prince app. Thank you for your understanding and cooperation, and for sailing with us on the Sapphire Prince.


“Wow.”

“Intense, isn’t it?” Leigh agreed.

“Actually what I’m thinking about is how their system is smart enough to know that you’re an English speaker, so your speakers in here went off when the English announcement ended, yet I can still hear the P.A. system outside repeating the information in the other languages.”

She turned and gave him a potent look of disbelief. “You are weird, Neener.”

“Why?”

“Suddenly we can’t dock in Portland, and all that’s on your mind are the finer points of their announcement system?!”

Eh-HEHHH… Eh-HEHHH “Don’t know about you, but the way I feel, doesn’t much matter when or even if we dock in Portland.”


* *
“Unacceptable.”


Second Deck Officer Niles Mayhew and First Deck and current Navigating Officer Ellen Glenn glanced towards one another, each quieting their nervous deep sighs. A consummate professional and seasoned cruise ship captain, Captain Cranch kept a level head under difficult circumstances, never in their experience losing his cool. Seeing his left eye occasionally twitch and an ever-so-slight tremble in his hands that neither crew member had ever seen before worried them.


“The morgue is full to capacity. Do you propose medivacing the deceased after those in critical condition?… What then? You expect me to violate common sense and every health regulation in existence and stow the additional bodies in the galley refrigerators?”


Tension on the Bridge, whilst low relative to other areas of the ship, was increasing.


“We are in the midst of a worldwide medical crisis triggered by a heretofore unknown coronavirus variant, most of humanity pulling together to work through the unknowns and get through this, and you are telling me that you will not even allow a brief technical port call for resupply and health exigencies?… It may become your problem should our situation continue its exponential growth and those of us here at Royal Prince share with the world your obstinate refusal to render even minimal aid urgently needed by town-sized ocean liner in distress.… Good day, sir.”


All the color drained out of the Deck Officers’ faces, seeing their Captain struggling to retain his composure. Officer Glenn dared to ask, “What now, Captain?”

“Stay the course back towards Portland, targeting the edge of international waters nearest Tillamook Bay. What cannot be more reasonably accomplished in the Port of Portland shall be handled by alternative means.”


* *
Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock

The choppy thrumming of the U.S. Coast Guard’s Eurocopter MH-65 Dolphin rotors alerted everyone on board the Sapphire Prince (who didn’t already know) that something major was going on.


“See anything?” Leigh asked Clark from the comfort of their/her bed, as he peered out the window.

“Not even” he replied, opening the sliding door.

You can’t go out there nude!” Hack Cuuuuh! Cuuuuh!

“Says who?”

“Common sense plus your cruise girlfriend! Besides which, you’d need a mask to go out if you weren’t contagious, and we’re both contagious.”

“What’s anyone going to do if I violate those rules?” he grinned. “Confine me to my stateroom?”


Not waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question(s), Clark already had the door open and was heading outside onto Leigh’s balconette. The far louder Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock soon as he opened the door precluded further conversation.

{You better not infect anyone} Leigh thought as she watched him, annoyed at his obstinance. {Nor bring back anything worse. Nor get yourself confined to your stateroom instead of this one!}


Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock

Once again, her nude cruise boyfriend was back inside her stateroom. “And?”

“Directly above the ship, I’m figuring. Can’t see anything from your balconette.”

“Thank you for not going out onto the actual promenade decking.”

“I’m not that much of a limit-pusher!”

{Could’ve fooled me.} “Medical evacuation, you think?” Hack

“Gotta be, given what we’re going through and what all we’ve seen and heard this voyage.” KHHHhhh KHHHhhh “I’ll go get some more tea going.”
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
Uh-KKKHH! Uh-KKKHH! Uh-KKKHH!

CAAAH! CAAAH!


cuu-HHUUH!… cuu-HHUUH!

WHHHHEEE
woooh, WHHHHEEE woooh, WHHHHEEE woooh


By no means were all coughs coming from Leigh’s stateroom. These particular coughing and wheezing sounds emanated from surrounding staterooms on the Upper Promenade deck. Some louder ones even made it down from the Vista deck, or up from the Grand Promenade deck, from folks who probably ought not to have been moving about in the public spaces on that deck.

Leigh and Clark shared weary, ill glances, too tired and yucky feeling to manage more than 1/8th. smiles. If it wasn’t the Coast Guard medivac helicopter, recently having completed its 4th. of who-knows-how-many trips, filling their lives with noise and vibrations, or the incessant dry coughs and labored breathing, the noise and vibrations of a seemingly endless parade of spaced-apart deck walkers with nothing better to do than tromp around the Upper Promenade deck kept them safely from rest in any way pacific, notwithstanding the capitalized ocean of that name upon which they currently floated.

She did manage to make it to a half smile for a little while, as he gently circularly caressed her Buddha belly.

“Maybe we should take this opportunity where going places, sex, and any sort of deep rest are all off the table to get to know one another better” he suggested. “What do you think?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I’d love to know anything you care to share about your life.”

“It’s really not that exciting.”

Her comment eked a grin out of him. “It’s been my experience that people who say that tend to have the most interesting lives of anyone I know.”

“You’d better ask questions to get me started.”

“OK. Where were you born? Who are your parents and what are or were they like? What was your childhood like?”

“OK OK OK—that’s more than enough to get started!”


It was as good a way to spend a sick day together as any, most of the time successfully distracting them from the noisy activity going on all around them. Once the conversation got going, it flowed naturally, for hours and hours, well into the evening. Along with tea and water, they weren’t even coughing all that much.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
Lockdown

MmmmmCOOOGGGH! achey, tired Leigh Down awoke Saturday morning 14 March 2020, to the day’s dark cloudy, rainy light.

CAAAAGGH! KUFF-A!, KUFF-A! “’Morning Chonky.”

“Did I wake you, Neen?”

“Nah” CUUUH! he coughed away from her. Once that was over, his hand couldn’t help gravitating onto her nearest fat hip, caressing her there. “How is it that you keep chonking up when neither of us are eating that much?” CUUUH!

“That’s a part of my life story that I didn’t share yesterday, nor am I ready to share today. Maybe not even on this cruise.”

“Awww. Not even with your cruise boyfriend?”


She cast her eyes downward for a good third of a minute. “Part of me very much wants to tell you, but I’d rather save it for when we’re both healthy and feeling better. There’s nothing magic about it, but for right now until the day we’re both healed from this, pretend it’s cruise magic.”

“Like that magician Mikahel the Mysterious who performed last weekend?”

“Wouldn’t know. Did you go to that?”

CUUUH! “No. Just saw it on the day calendar.” His caressing hand roamed up to her belly, “Need some breakfast, to keep this cruise magic happening?”

“Not likely” HAACK! “Need a light breakfast because I’m hungry.”


Their light breakfast thankfully arrived in a timely manner. Given how much coughing they were doing after sipping the nice hot bean-brewed brown beverage Clark made for them and especially how much they did after having bites of their favorite breakfast item of the day, together they decided the beverage needed to be renamed coughy, and the food item coughy cake.


* *
Day 3 of Leigh’s full illness (beyond the loss of taste and smell) and Day 2 of the same for Clark went on very much like the day prior, other than there were no helicopter visits so far, likely due to the inclement weather making them unsafe. Similarly, almost no one bothered walking around the exposed Upper Promenade deck.

This all changed in the early afternoon around 1:30, when another all-ship announcement intruded into their (and everyone else’s) lives.

Attention cruisers: Please return to your staterooms immediately. The Sapphire Prince is now under Quarantine Level 3: Lockdown. I repeat: The Sapphire Prince is now under Quarantine Level 3: Lockdown. Please return to your staterooms immediately. All public facilities are now closed. Staff and Crew: Q L 3 L procedures are in effect immediately; report to your stations. Captain Cranch will present a ship-wide address with full details and all information at 2 PM sharp, over the ship’s infotainment system, crew and staff systems, and the Royal Prince app.

As usual, the announcement repeated in the various major languages Royal Prince Cruise Lines supported. Unlike the announcement the day before, the second reading in English once again played through Leigh’s in-stateroom system.


Leigh threw her fattening, heavier leg up onto Clark, pinning him down in place.

“Thank you.”

“I think we have a good case that we became infected together, or nearly together, thus should quarantine together.”

“I agree” he confirmed with a kiss, which made them both briefly cough. “Want anything we have here in the room, in preparation for the forthcoming official announcement?”

“Just a trip to the bathroom before it starts. You need to go?”

“Not right now; you go ahead.”


He couldn’t help sighing, watching her butt crack dance and buns and hips wobble and sway on her wiggle-wobble way to the bathroom. If he hadn’t had a fever and thus might not be perceiving reality as clearly as usual, he would have sworn that her buns were bigger in addition to her hips.


* *
All cuddled together tired nude and ill like they were about to watch a movie, Leigh and Clark awaited the speech. At his insistence, they left the infotainment system in its standby/off setting, to find out whether it would turn on automatically.

At 2 PM, it did: coming alive with the upper body image of their ship’s captain, as neat and well-dressed as one in that position could be.

Transcript of Captain Cranch’s address:


_ _
Good afternoon one and all. Those of you whose videos or other entertainment have been interrupted by this announcement, rest assured that your content is paused at this time. You will be able to continue from the point of interruption or back up or start the program over from the beginning as you choose, once this address is complete.


Thank you for your ongoing understanding and cooperation during this unprecedented, challenging time we and indeed all the world are currently undergoing, on account of COVID-19 disease, caused by the virus named SARS-CoV-2, colloquially the novel coronavirus. Quarantines on cruise ships are never undertaken lightly, as even the minimal Level 1 is disruptive to fully enjoying the cruise experience. Initially the hope was that a light touch and minimal disruption via Quarantine Level 1 would prove sufficient to stem the spread of COVID-19 on the Sapphire Prince. The combination of an alarming acceleration in the rates of infection and serious illness from this disease here on this ship along with circumstances I’ll soon address in the outer world demanded invoking Level 2 quarantining yesterday, and as of this afternoon leave me no choice but to instate full lockdown—Quarantine Level 3, our line’s highest level.

Thousands dead from this disease in Wuhan China, with new cases continuing to grow. Nearly one thousand five hundred dead in Italy already, with their infection rate and death rate continuing to grow exponentially. Spain is already over 100; the U.S. already over half that. Experts at the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention assure us that the U.S. rate is set to explode, quite possibly well exceeding the rates in the nation of the disease’s presumed origin. (Stares forcefully directly into camera) There have been eight COVID-19-related deaths as of this moment, here on the Sapphire Prince —this despite everyone’s best efforts. The Coast Guard medivac helicopters you’ve all heard have been evacuating our most critical passengers for superior treatment at either of the two Level 1 trauma hospitals in Portland Oregon. As well they have evacuated our 8 deceased, all of whom were passengers with underlying health conditions, the majority well into their elder years.

There are currently no dead people on this ship. Let us all please work together to keep it that way. To this end, it is imperative for your health and the health of others that everyone on this ship remain quarantined: passengers in their assigned staterooms, off-duty crew and staff in their cabins. On-duty crew and staff members must at all times follow all social isolation, hygiene, and personal protective equipment procedures. Anyone having non-urgent medical issues please use the online system or your stateroom’s telephone to contact the Infirmary. For all cases of urgent or emergency medical issues, please call the Infirmary, who will advise and send an escort or make other arrangements as needed. Medical personnel who happen to be traveling with us are asked to contact the Infirmary to kindly help with this unprecedented urgent situation.

We remain in active, focused negotiations with authorities at the state level for the 3 west coast states we serve and the U.S. Federal government regarding our next port of call. The delay is unfortunate and disappointing. Canada has banned the docking of all cruise ships effective yesterday, so unfortunately they are not an option. Until further notice we must remain at sea in international waters, staying close to the Oregon coast where we’ve been in case further medivac evacuations are necessary. U.S. citizens traveling with us who are able to do so are encouraged to contact their congressional representatives in both houses, urging them to do what they can to speed our next docking. Those who happen to live in Oregon, Washington, or California are additionally urged to also contact their state representatives for their help. Our many travelers from other fine nations elsewhere around the world are urged to contact their embassies in the U.S., to have them add their voice to the call to allow us to dock sooner than later.

What exactly will happen when we next set anchor in our port of call we cannot yet know: there are too many unknowns and too many stakeholders with conflicting goals. It is my preference to get everyone needing medical attention to superior land-based medical facilities as soon as is practicable. I look forward to working with the relevant authorities to allow those who wish to disembark and terminate their cruise the ability to do so. Yet we still know little about COVID-19, and quarantining as for the Princess line’s Diamond Princess may be required of us, for everyone’s health and well-being.

Many if not most of you are or will be unhappy with the loss of the ability to fully experience the cruise for which you signed up and for which you paid. Each of you will receive a full refund of your paid cruise fare, including onboard gratuities, onboard purchased items and services, any associated flights, hotels, and/or land transportation included in your fare. All passengers will receive a future cruise credit equal to your paid cruise fare for this cruise.

All meals and beverages will be provided by room service, ordered as usual through the infotainment system or Royal Prince app. There will be no charges for room service nor Internet usage during the remainder of this truncated cruise.

My utmost gratitude goes out to our dedicated crew and staff. Rest assured: you will be taken care of, in terms of receiving your designated gratuities, normal pay, medical care, and elimination of charges you might normally incur were it not for the mandatory lockdown.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
I mention this publicly to ensure all on board know that we take care of our cruisers and our own. Further details are available privately to those in our employ through the usual channels.

My utmost gratitude goes out as well to all of you voyaging with us, for squarely facing the disappointment, fear, and unknowns along with those of us who work here. None of us wanted any of this disruption to happen. Myself and our whole team have striven to minimize disruption, discomfort, and unpleasantries of all sorts, and will continue to do everything within our power to make this the best possible experience under these extremely trying circumstances. Each of you hearing me speak now can help out by doing your part to abide by all quarantine guidelines, giving as and when you are able, caring for yourself and each other with whom you’re traveling, in-person for those of you sharing the same stateroom.

With so much going on I may not be able to update you with an address such as this as often as may be desirable. Rest assured that our team will keep the on-ship website updated at all times with the very latest information, as soon as it is verified and fact-checked. This information is available to you any time, 24 hours a day, in your language.

Thank you for your attention and cooperation. May health, science, reason, and Providence be with us all.
_ _


The captain’s image faded to a silent still screen with basic information on connecting to replays of the speech and the information page mentioned at the speech’s conclusion. After displaying for 40 seconds, the system in Leigh’s stateroom shut itself back off as it had been, as others around the ship reverted to their pre-announcement state.


Throughout the whole speech, Leigh and Clark remained cuddled together nude in bed, arms around each other, staying warm with an extra blanket covering their upper bodies.

“Wonder what it takes to change a stateroom assignment?”

“Given everything they’re dealing with, I’m thinking verifying room assignments is low on their priority list, as long as no one’s out in the halls who doesn’t work for them” Clark answered. “Shouldn’t much matter to them whether I’m in here with you or in the stateroom for which I paid.” Cc-Huuh! “How’re ya feeling?”

“Wavering: aches coming and going, tiredness waxing and waning. Cough annoying” Ckkk! “What about you?”

“Basic blah yuck, not really changing much. So far really no different than a cold without sinus congestion, or a flu without vomiting. Definitely not asymptomatic, but I think I can ride this one out.”

“As long as it doesn’t get worse.”

“Think positive. (kiss) What’s your pleasure?”

“Healing.”

“Near-term pleasure? What do you want to do now?”

“Take advantage of the dark rainy weather and sleep, or at least rest.”

“Sounds good to me!”


* *
The sudden loud DeedleEeedleEeedleEeedleEeedleEeedle, DeedleEeedleEeedleEeedleEeedleEeedle from the hardwired bedside telephone Leigh didn’t even know her stateroom had woke both her and Clark suddenly from their deeper-than-expected sleep.

“Uuuaaaggh” she groaned. “Who even has this number?”

“Sapphire Prince staffers and crew, I betcha.”

“Should I answer it?”

“Up to you. It’s your stateroom.”


“Hello?”

“Ms. Down? This is Jini from Reception. Is there anyone else currently with you in your stateroom?”

“Yes there is.”

“Who, please? We’re trying to account for all passengers, not all of whom are responding to our direct calls to them.”

“Mr. Clark Barr, B A R R.”

“Only Mr. Barr and yourself?”

“Correct. We’ve become a romantic item, and I want us to stay this way for the duration of this cruise.”

“So you wish that Mr. Barr remains with you throughout lockdown?”

“Correct.”

“May I speak with him, please?”

“Sure. Hold on.”


Instinctively from decades past, her motor memory knew to cover the mouthpiece. “It’s Jini from Reception, wanting to discuss your whereabouts.”

“How thoughtful of her” he snickered, coughing loudly thereafter. Nevertheless, he accepted the handset handoff.


“Hello.”

“Mr. Barr? This is Jini from Reception.”

“Hi Jini. What’s up?”

“Is it true that you wish to remain with Ms. Down in her stateroom for the remainder of lockdown?”

“Correct, other than at some point I’ll be wanting to return to mine to gather some belongings I’ll need for the long-term here.” Hack!

“Perchance are you ill, sir?”

“Yes, and so is Ms. Down, with the same sort of flu-like illness.”

“Difficulty breathing, either of you?”


Now it was his turn to cover the mouthpiece, “You having any breathing issues?”

“Thankfully no.”


“No, neither of us are having breathing difficulties.”

“Do you have a medical-grade face mask?”

“No.”

“Under the circumstances we are very willing to allow you to move into Ms. Down’s stateroom with her consent which she’s already given me, especially since after decontaminating your stateroom we will be able to reassign it to medical personnel who may soon be boarding, else staff or crew to help them isolate. Is it possible for you to move out of your stateroom and into Ms. Down’s sometime today?”

“I’ll get dressed and do it right now, gladly.”


Leigh felt all wiggly wobbly seeing his smile and wink directed at her during his most recent sentence.


“Actually Mr. Barr, please wait for us to deliver a face mask and set of gloves for you to wear along with a hall pass ribbon to you at your current location. As part of quarantine and especially if you are having symptoms which might possibly be the disease, we ask that you wear the gloves and mask at all times from before exiting Ms. Down’s stateroom until you return there for the final time, and please pin the ribbon onto the corner of either of your shoulders to make it easy for Security to see from a distance. OK so far?”

“Yes. I wait for someone to deliver the mask, gloves, and ribbon. I wear all of them as you just specified from before leaving this stateroom until my last return, which I think I can manage in one trip but might take two. Is that it?”

“Almost. Once you’re all done with your assigned stateroom and all your possessions are out of it, please leave the key card on the bed and close the door. Once you’re back where you currently are with Ms. Down, please call me back and let me know that you’re finished with your stateroom and are releasing it back to us.”

“What number do I call?”

“Using the in-room phone as you are now, just press R for Reception, a.k.a. the 7 key one time. That’s it!; the system will put you through to me.”

“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to this.”

“Glad we can help bring what joy we can to this uniquely challenging cruise experience. Someone will be up very soon with the materials, which they’ll leave outside the door and knock. ’Kay ’kay?”

“All good. Thanks!”

“Bye for now.”

“Bye Jini.”


Leigh and Clark both felt a little better, seeing their lover’s smile and knowing that soon he’d be all moved in with her, no longer concerned about what might be happening with his belongings over in his nearly-abandoned stateroom.

“Let’s save the kisses for after I’m all moved in. Can you believe that Jini dropped her voice and nearly whispered ‘the disease’, as though saying it aloud at normal volume or heaven forbid its actual name might bring shame upon the family or something?”

“Eight people dead from this thing on this ship alone is nothing to sneeze at.”

“Actually sneezing would prolly be an indication that it’s a cold or something else rather than COVID-19.”

“Each of us has occasionally sneezed in here over the last several days, and each of us has several classic symptoms of COVID-19, from what we’ve looked up.”

“Alright alright.” KHHHH! “Let me get all moved in here then let’s focus on healing each other from this thing with love, rest, tea, water, sleep, and whatever else we can manage that is likely to help.”


* *
“Thanks Jini. Stay well.… You too. Bye.”


Despite both still feeling ill, Clark Barr and Leigh Down were all loving grins, wrapping their arms around each other as they lay sitting up in in their cosy “cloud” bed, sharing a brief kiss before their next cough.

“Oh dear. We’re stuck in quarantine together, so we have to stay together” he teased, caressing her sexually and kissing her again.

“I’m going to want to have sex with you if you keep doing that. Mmmmm!

“Sounds good to me!”

“Careful, Neener: you’ll consummate our cruise marriage” she wickedly teased back, grinning impishly.

“Oh is that how it is?”

She nodded.

“Well then we need a ceremony. Do you, Leigh ‘Chonky’ Down, take me, Clark ‘Neener’ Barr as your duration-of-cruise husband, to love, cherish, and live with, in sickness for now and later in health, for as long as we remain on this cruise?”

“I do!” She decided with this ceremony she would kiss him immediately after her “I do”, and did so, leaving him dazed. Proud of how deeply her kiss dazzled him, she gave him a minute to recover.


“Do you, Clark ‘Neener’ Barr, take me, Leigh ‘Chonky’ Down as your duration-of-cruise wife, to love in every way, cherish, and live with, presently in sickness and later in health, for as long as we remain on this cruise?”

“I assuredly do.”


His kiss felt like a stealth passion attack: all-out, searing, take-no-prisoners. The sort of lusty kiss that most officiants at an actual marriage would ask be toned down and saved for the honeymoon.


In the immediate aftermath of ravagement Leigh managed to say, “By no power vested in me by anyone, I now pronounce us cruise husband and cruise wife.” Tossing back the blankets and spreading her chonky legs wide she concluded, “You may now fuck your cruise wife.”


He was ready; she was very ready. It very much happened, without any coughing.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
Shut In, Shut Out

“What a great day to be shut in together” Clark softly declared soon after awakening on Sunday, kissing also-freshly-awakened cruise wife Leigh before issuing the latest of many coughs.

“Less rainy than yesterday, but yes” she kissed him back, wiggly-squiggly happy to be cuddled into her cruise husband, by any label her searing-hot lover.


Searing hot applied to both of them in terms of internal temperature regulation as well as passionate love: their fevers were going with a vengeance, especially Leigh’s.

Nevertheless, they enjoyed the start of this quiet, somewhat wet morning.


* *
🎼 Come sail a-way
Come sail a-way
Come sail away
Wi–

Whump!


The sudden quietness from the utter cessation of all electrical sounds and most mechanical sounds on the ship—many of which were soft enough that neither Leigh nor Clark knew they existed until they were gone—along with the instantaneous loss of electrical illumination on this cloudy early afternoon did more than the stateroom’s audio power amp’s transient whump from the sudden loss of power to draw their immediate full attention.

Running Leigh’s entire cruise playlist on her iPhone through the far higher fidelity of the stateroom’s sound system to in part help distract them from their physical ills had seemed like such a good idea—and it had been good, until the power went out.


“This does not bode well” Clark felt the need to verbalize.

Leigh paused her device, happily streaming from their bedside over Bluetooth to nothing any longer functioning.


They looked around, then at one another, hearing nothing beyond their own breathing and occasional coughs, wheezes, and other louder human sounds from adjacent staterooms and other areas.


Before either of them could formulate another thought into a coherent sentence, the lights came back on and the A/V infotainment system went into its cold boot startup sequence. Both of them found watching the startup screen stepping through its startup sequence to be informative as well as a form of entertainment. Whatever specifically it was doing for non-volatile memory, it remembered that it had last been in audio playback mode via Bluetooth, returning to that mode once its startup finished.

“Dare I restart Styx?” she asked.

“Not my very favorite song in the world” KHHHH!, “but thankfully we’re both rational enough to know that whether you do or you don’t, your choice will have no relevancy to whether or not the power remains stably on.”


🎼 Come sail away
With meeeeee 🎼


* *
“We are running low on fuel. We have an urgent need to at least make a technical call, lest we have a greater humanitarian crisis on our hands.”


Today on this shift, it was Second Deck Officer Niles Mayhew currently at the modern, digital helm as Navigating Officer, maintaining his focus out the window along with First Deck Officer Ellen Glenn, as they once again both overheard Captain Cranch in negotiations with relevant authorities.


“Your hands as well as mine, ma’am. It is already widely known in social media and via some news outlets that we’re being blocked from docking, and whose states and which ports are responsible for this situation.… Correct: technical call. I seek more, because reason and civil human behavior demands it. I require a technical call as a bare minimum.… Thank you. I shall be following up no later than 1500 local if no word has come through by that time.… Very well. Best of health to you.”


Captain Cranch chose to answer the un-asked question on everyone in the Bridge’s minds before either on-duty deck officer could ask, “Stay the course, monitoring conditions all along the coast between Eureka and Port Angeles. They have to allow us to stop somewhere.”


* *
Sunday evening found Leigh and Clark too wrung out to do anything other than rest, sleeping briefly when possible. The weather was cloudy enough, they were paying little enough attention, and they were far enough from shore that neither noticed the Sapphire Prince turn around and start heading southbound.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
* *
Outdoor lights and activity not entirely visible through the pre-dawn drizzle and not at all visible with both the sheer curtains and light-blocking drapes closed awoke Clark and Leigh well before they otherwise would have awoken.

“Ulllaaagggh” she gripe-groaned. “What time is it?”

“5:08.”


He was already out of bed, heading for the windows/balconette door.


“Keep the door closed, please.”

“That’s my plan” he replied, parting the drapes and curtains.


“What do you see?”

“We’re docked, that’s for sure. I see what appear to be cargo containers being loaded or offloaded—which I can’t tell.”

“Like intermodal?”

“Sort of, but smaller. Half-size, and maybe shorter.”


She turned on the infotainment system, navigating to the ship’s itinerary information page. “Damn.”

“What?”

“They say it’s a technical call, whatever that is, to the port of Coos Bay.”

“Didn’t know they had a port there… here, I suppose we are.”

“It’s a commercial shipping port with no provisions for passengers. Oh—here they define technical call as being for resupplying, refueling, and offloading recycling and waste. Get this: by order of local, state, and national authorities, only seriously ill passengers and those with severe medical issues who are likely to die if they fall ill are being allowed off the ship.”

“Sweet. Wonder where they’re drawing those lines?”

“Doesn’t say; no hint.”

“Unsurprising.”

“Oh, and someone just added that additional medical personnel are boarding to further assist those already here.”


He continued peering out the window.


“Coming back to bed?”

“What’s the point? Sleep’s not going to happen with all this going on.”

“Cuddling can! I haven’t had my morning flesh banana between my buns yet.”

“The one whose appeal according to you is its lack of a peel?”

“That’s the one.”

“You must be feeling better.”

“Actually I feel like shit” Hack!

“Hope not literally! Otherwise I’ll have to wash my hands extra double-dog triple well after feeling you. Coffee or tea yet?”

“Better make it tea” CHHHHuuh! “Otherwise I’ll be spelling the beverage as we did yesterday.”


Leigh delayed her morning banana bun split to cuddle sitting up in bed with her cruise husband, both sipping tea and seeing what they could with drapes and curtains drawn fully open, as well as watching the cruise status screen for updates.

To their partial amazement, the Sapphire Prince eased out of port around dawn, per the status page heading back out into international waters just off the Oregon coast.


* *
Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh

It wasn’t some exotic animal, nor the sound of an older internal combustion engine vehicle with a weak battery trying to start. The sound was the mash-up of Leigh’s Hhhhhhhh sigh with the rrrrrrrrr wheeze she’d developed. Both she and Clark were concerned.

He was on the phone with Reception trying to do something about it. “If you don’t have lemons or oranges, which frankly would amaze me given the resupplying I saw this morning with my own eyes but whatever, then how about some vitamin C?…… Not giving me much to work with here, Adela. We’re doing our best to stay as well as possible and heal fully from this thing, but odds of that drop without basic nutrition. It’s a bit late for zinc tablets to do their best, but those might help. What about those?… Alright, let’s circle back. Do you mean to tell me that you do not have any lemons on board? Given what I’ve seen in terms of gratuitous giveaways of lemon quarter slices with everyone’s hot tea whether they ask for it or not already on this cruise, I am having trouble believing y’all can’t spare one full lemon for two passengers.… Please do that. It ought to make a material difference.… Very good. Thank you, Adela. Bye.”


He sat down on the edge of the bed near his Love, “How’s life in the sawmill?”

“Moving from soft pine to medium hardwood” she softly wheezed.

Upset and love propelled him into an upper body cuddle with her, caressing her hot head. “What would you most like right now to help you heal?”

She weakly shrugged her shoulders.

“How about another extended foot massage with the roller, then a lower back massage with it and the egg-footed tool? It’s been a few days.”

“Foot massage yes please. rrrrrrrrrr Back massage no thank you: I need to remain sitting up”–Hack!–“today.”


The massage couldn’t directly help with Leigh’s new breathing issue, though it absolutely felt good, with the love via proximity and skin-to-skin hand contact aiding her body’s natural healing process in the struggle against what they assumed must be COVID-19.


Within the hour 2 fresh California lemons were delivered by room service, making their afternoon tea servings slightly more healing and vastly more lemony.


* *
Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh whhhheeeeeeez. Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh whhhheeeeeeez—this was Leigh’s breathing, not anyone sleeping. “Finding anything?” whhhheeeeeeez she asked, between breaths and bites of her light dinner.

Clark’s eyes remained locked on his notebook computer’s screen. “All kinds of things. Currently I’m in the process of sorting out the bullshit from the plausible, after which I’ll get into what we’re capable of doing under our circumstances. Anything I can get for you at this time?”

Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh “Some more tea” whhhheeeeeeez, “and an upper chest massage, please.”


He was already out of bed before she finished speaking, delivering her tea in short order.

The upper chest massage started soon thereafter, though she’d have to finish her tea before he got too deeply into it. The reason for that was that based upon prior interactions, this request had a special meaning: massage and grope her underappreciated (she believed) itty bitty titties. Surprised though he was that she wanted this when she was obviously not feeling well, he gladly obliged. It might not directly cure her illness, though for sure the pleasurable biochemical reactions the fondle-y caresses got going in her did at least slightly help.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
A Different Kind of Green

There was little to celebrate in the stateroom of Leigh Down and Clark Barr St. Patrick’s Day Tuesday 17 March 2020: neither of them had slept well on account of their illnesses, and Leigh’s breathing was worse.

Ratchetratchetratchetratchet WHHHHEEEEEEEZ!, Ratchetratchetratchetratchet WHHHHEEEEEEEZ!

Ill himself, Clark’s worry related to his Love Leigh had him kneeling atop the bed facing her, his hands on her shoulders, his gaze locked on her eyes. “Keep breathing, Love!”

Ratchetratchetratchetratchet WHHHHEEEEEEEZ!So hard” she gasped.

“You’ve got to, Leigh! You’ve got to! Please. Keep breathing!”


* *
2 hours later in mid-morning, things were worse: along with the highly hitched, ratchety rough wheezy breathing, Leigh seemed to have something lodged in her throat.

Ratchetratchetratchetratchet WHHHHEEEEEEEZ! Hclckl. Glump

“Don’t swallow it!”

“Why not?” Ratchetratchetratchetratchet “It’s not very ladylike to spit things up.”

“It’s your body trying to get rid of the illness! Pleeeaase get it out of you next time!”

He rushed over to the trash, retrieving a wider-than-tall paper bowl. “Here: keep this handy and spit into it from hereon out.”


They didn’t have to wait long.

Ratchetratchetratchetratchet Hrulp. Hrrrb. Hckck.

Frantic and upset to the point of tears, with a loud male adult voice backed by a frightened child he yelled, “Cough it up! Cough it uuupp!

Hrrrr, PTTT!


One giant gray-green glob the size of a U.S. quarter and at least twice as thick sat in the bottom of the paper bowl which formerly held ramen noodles.


Good! Good girl! More! Get it all out!

Hrrrrp. Chhhhh. HAAAA PTWINNNG!”


Now the first green glob had a friend: slightly more golden, the size of a U.S. half dollar.


Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh WHHHHEEEEEEEZ!This is awful.

“Yes, but you’re getting better! Keep going, Love!

Hcccc, HHCCCC, PLLLLLTTT!

Yesss!


Rough though it was, and less productive past this peak output though it was, coached expectorating into the ever-more-disgusting paper cup did slightly reduce the roughness of Leigh’s breathing, more than slightly irritating her throat. Some lemon-infused chamomile tea ably and rapidly provided by Clark (ignoring his own tiredness, discomfort, and start of wheezing as he fearfully focused on her) eased the latter concern.


* *
Things remained hairy-difficult as of the early afternoon: Leigh had nothing more so far to cough up, with her breathing plateaued and still rough. Clark continued to get more wheezy.


“OK” whhhhhrrr, “We gotta do this” whhhhhrrr.

Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh WHHHHEEEEEEEZ!Do what?

“We’ve gotta move around, Leigh!” whhhhhrrr “Get our lymphatic systems moving” whhhhhrrr “and flush this stuff out!”

So tired” she gasped, “So, so tired.” Hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh

“We’ve gotta move!whhhhhrrr “I know! We’ll march with Honks The Goose!”


A childhood favorite forgotten by oh-so-many of Clark’s and Leigh’s generation and never known by most other generations, the marching animated goose was popular amongst children in certain areas of the U.S., part of the Federal push for greater physical fitness amongst that generation’s youth.

An illin’ man on a sick mission, Clark searched and dug and scanned and auditioned all he could find on the WWW portion of the Internet. Eventually he found what he wanted, routing it to the bigger screen of the stateroom’s built-in A/V system.


“Let’s go, Chonky!” he excitedly urged her, with energy he barely had. Taking her by the hand he attempted to pull her out of bed, or at least get her moving that direction, to little avail.

Do we have tooooo?” hrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh she whined and wheezed.

“Yes!” whhhhhrrr “Honks is going to help us heal! March with Honks, just like when you were little!”

The Kate Bush song The Man With The Child In His Eyes flashed through Leigh’s fever-fogged mind, seeing her man’s inner child desperate to save them. Touched that he, whom she’d always assumed was into her mainly for sex, actually cared about her living and thriving as much as himself, she pushed herself hard to get out of bed and follow his hand-holding lead.


“Here we go” whhhhhrrr “Ready?”

“Yes.” whhhheeeeeeez


The snare drum and one-word cartoon voiced animated video (originally on film) started up right away.

[Unfortunately this site does not allow me to format the following in a way that makes sense. Please consider viewing it on my site jigglejunkie.com, where i have full control over the HTML and CSS thus presentation, thus it’s more readable. Direct link to this section on my site. Otherwise please continue reading here and envision the HonkHonkHonk being Honk at a higher pitch (e.g. superscript), followed by Honk at a middle pitch, ending with Honk at a lower pitch (e.g. subscript).]

🎼 Honk! t-thh Honk! t-thh HonkHonkHonk
Honk! t-thh Honk! t-thh HonkHonkHonk
Trrump-t-tu-t-tu-t-tatata rrump-t-tu-t-tu-t-tatata
Trrump-t-tu-t-tu-t-tatata rrump-t-tu-t-tu-t-tatata 🎼


and on and on, repeating in that pattern.


Struggle though it was, marching with Honks The Goose did get both Leigh and Clark moving around and around in a repeating oval in their stateroom. {I always preferred this one to the chicken fat song} she mused.


Interestingly, she felt a little better after the march.

Clark was bound and determined for them to both push through and survive. “Let’s do another!” whhhhhrrr

“OK.” whhhheeeeeeez


🎼 Honk! t-thh Honk! t-thh HonkHonkHonk 🎼


They wound up doing a third march after this second, before stopping. In under half an hour, Leigh’s body expectorated more phlegm into the ever-grosser cup. Clark’s was yet to be productive, though he did get some tan phlegm with a very slight green cast out and so far his wheezing was getting no worse.


* *
Things were going far, far worse down in the Infirmary: between the time Leigh and Clark awoke and when they finished marching with Honks The Goose, 2 more fellow cruisers lost their battle with COVID-19, and their lives.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
Fever Dreams

Leigh awoke Wednesday morning during early daylight absolutely soaked. Seeing that her Love was already awake, looking ill and wheezing, her first words of the day were, “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” whhhhhrrr

“No. We went to bed, both feeling like shit but at least with nothing in particular in our throats—at least mine. Then I slept and I woke up just now. And I’m not wheezing.”

“True: you’re not” whhhhhrrr, “which is great.” whhhhhrrr “No memory of pulling me against you and slowly kiss-eating my lips as a meal, thankfully without biting me, just barely?” whhhhhrrr

“I did that?!”

“You most certainly did.” whhhhhrrr

“You’re not bullshitting me, are you?”

whhhhhrrr “I swear Leigh, this and everything else I’m about to tell you is the total truth.” whhhhhrrr “I didn’t sleep much last night, so I was awake for the whole thing.” whhhhhrrr

“What all did I do?!”

“You had a very high fever.” whhhhhrrr “Once you were done with the embrace and the kissing,” whhhhhrrr “you kept moving my hands onto your fat parts that you don’t especially appreciate me touching when you’re awake,” whhhhhrrr “such as your upper arm fat and your sloping back rolls.” whhhhhrrr “I couldn’t understand anything you said when you were asleep,” whhhhhrrr “though your emotions were a fairly easy read from your murmur intonations.” whhhhhrrr “During one span when I was all too fully awake,” whhhhhrrr “you kept moving my hand onto your mound.”

“My puss?”

“Yes.” whhhhhrrr “When my hand was first on it, you made the most endearing feminine happy peep moan sounds I’ve ever heard.” whhhhhrrr “When I moved my hand away, you made unhappy more groan-like mumbles, until you pulled my hand back over and onto your mound, when the contented sounds returned.” whhhhhrrr “We did this over and over. You don’t remember this?”

“Not even slightly.”

“Wow. I truly thought you were awake,” whhhhhrrr “and not feeling well enough to bother speaking with me.” whhhhhrrr “I think deep inside you must like all-out intimately sexy touch much more than you let on” he grinned and wheezed, then coughed.


For the first time in days, her sudden inner heat was from embarrassment rather than fever.


* *
“I await a cogent explanation as to why other cruise ships have been allowed to dock in U.S. ports for purposes of releasing passengers for repatriation, land-based quarantine, or their homes as individual situations warrant, and we are barred from so doing.”


Current shift First Deck Officer Cristi Crunklebunk subtly bit her lip, staring out the Sapphire Prince’s Bridge windows with eagle eyes, scanning the ocean as the on-duty watch keeper whilst once again this shift’s Second Deck Officer Niles Mayhew navigated at the helm. It was difficult listening to Captain Cranch diplomatically negotiate with inexplicably obstinate U.S. authorities. “Debris field 25 degrees to port.”

“Debris field 25 degrees to port confirmed. Bearing 7 degrees starboard upon consensus.”

“Concur with bearing 7 degrees starboard.”


“May I respectfully and with all due deference humbly suggest that it is time to advance a step up your chain of command if no meaningful answer is forthcoming. At least 10 nations of the world are watching, awaiting news of when their citizens will be allowed to debark and repatriate.… This is already an international incident, Ms. Muellish.… It is appreciated. We need action on this. Thank you.”


Both Deck Officers eagerly awaited their Captain’s report.

“Continue with practice maneuvers until further notice. We might as well get something beneficial out of this mess” he ended with a telling sigh.


* *
“Out with it! Out with it!”

Whack—Leigh slapped Clark’s back along with her verbal coaching, to get him to cough up the phlegm both of them knew was in his wheezy throat.

“Cough it out, Neener! You know you have to.”

Hhhhhccccc PTWTPT!


There it was, in his own until-now-empty reused empty noodle cup: a big slimy gooey gray-green-gold glob of pestilent phlegm.


“Doing good, Neener” she praised him, caressing his arm and upper back. “Soon you’ll be feeling better, like me.”

“Can’t be soon enough” whhhhh HLLULKa PPPGGGHT!—out came another glob.

“Got any more?”

whhhhhrrr “Not right now.” whhhhhrrr

“Alright, let’s get you moving and move that nastiness outta there! Ready to March With Honks The Goose?”

“I’d better.” whhhhhrrr



🎼 Honk! t-thh Honk! t-thh HonkHonkHonk

Honk! t-thh Honk! t-thh HonkHonkHonk 🎼



She of course joined him, to motivate him and ensure she stayed on the mend. Very sick and very tired as he was, following the wildly bouncing fat butt, hips, and thighs of his cruise wife absolutely motivated Clark to push through his discomfort and fatigue, and keep marching.

As a reward for doing a fourth march cycle, Leigh let him grab her hips and press into her butt and march together as a unit. Both of them were bottomless, making the intimate marching contact very rewarding indeed!


Within roughly half an hour after the marching, with the aid of lemon-infused chamomile tea that neither of them could smell nor taste, Clark managed to get out several more phlegm blobs of various interesting shapes and coloration specifics.


* *
“Ulllggh. Why does this thing have to come back for a reprise?!” Leigh whined Wednesday evening.

whhhhhrrr “At least you’re not wheezing again.” whhhhhrrr

“Thank goodness for that!Hack! “Cough’s still around, though. How’s your fever?”

whhhhhrrr “Do I get to take the 5th. Amendment?”

“No” she replied, putting the back of her hand against his forehead. “You feel like you’re on fire, Neen.”

“Yeahhh” he sighed with a wheeze. While bad to have a wheeze at all with this disease, his still wasn’t as intense as hers had gotten.

In a very sweet, affectionate voice she asked, “Anything you need to help you feel better?”

“May I squeeze and caress your belly, please?”

She couldn’t refuse such an earnest request from her love in high discomfort, especially not with the many tears rolling out of his eyes and the slight whine his inner child applied to his tone. “You mean my gelatinous pudge ball?” she flirted.

He nodded.

“Of course.”


Affectionate and lusty restful fatsex provided an excellent distraction to both suffering lovers from their immediate ills. Leigh found herself getting so turned on by his ongoing handy hand belly explorations that her diligent digits dove down deep into her mildly plush mound, for direct personal self-stimulation they both found unexpectedly exciting.


* *
Clark awoke Thursday morning the 19th. of March startled to find himself in near-sopping wet bedding. Equally unexpected, cruise wife Leigh looked more bright-eyed happy to see him than ever before that he could recall. “Please tell me I didn’t pee in our bed.”

“No, you were sweating.” She held the back of her hand to his forehead, “Your fever broke. Or, like mine, is now taking mornings off to come back late in the day. How do you feel?”

“Drained. Still can’t smell anything. Wheezing’s gone, at least for now.”

“We’ll do some marching together later, to help ensure it stays that way for both of us.”

“What’s got you grinning so much this morning? Are you part Cheshire Cat?”

“Maaaaybe” she glitter-eye flirted.

“No really Chonk, what’s up?”

“Remember anything about your fever dream?”

“I had one?”

Ohhhh yes. I made a video of it, even. Wanna see it?”

“You made a video of my fever dream?!”

“Well the part of it that happened out here in the waking real world, yes. You’ll have to tell me if hearing and seeing yourself from my awake perspective triggers any memories of your sleeping experience of it. Come cuddle close over here, so your sweat spot can start drying out.”


Heart racing from trepidation, he settled against/into her, bracing himself for what was to come. “Alright, run it.”


The larger screen and sound system of the built-in infotainment system came to life.

Clark watched himself sleep-caressing Leigh’s distant upper arm using his hand of his arm wrapped around her as he cuddled her. To him it looked like a lying-down version of the way many loving couples stand close next to/into one another when they’re feeling loving and affectionate, especially when there are others around, such as in public places, at meetings, at parties, and so on.

Hearing himself mumble something along the lines of “mur wurfmst Churkr” caught his full attention. “What did I say?”

She paused the video, “That one’s not intelligible. Seems to me you say the same thing, or close to it, several times. The others were clearer. Ready to continue?”

“I didn’t do anything bad, did I?”

“I don’t think so! Quite the opposite. Ready?”

Her ongoing bright grin and super-strong affection continued to rattle him. “Alright.”


Transcript of the video soundtrack:

_ _

Hur hrr ur mt my wife Chonky?

(movement of limbs, as if walking)

Huurriii. Haf you met my wife Chonky?

(movement of limbs, as if walking)

Hi. Have you met my wife Chonky? Yesur reruuur mmmnn dssss



Panic burst throughout the being of Clark Barr. In full fight/flight/freeze response (tending towards flight), he wide deer-in-headlights eyes frantically looked about the room as he trembled, more so seeing the happy matrimonial gaze of his love and waking-life-declared cruise wife Leigh.

The panic made him bolt out of bed, narrowly avoiding her too-slow latest attempt to comfortably and amorously pin him down with her fat leg. He frantically ran around in circles as though the stateroom was engulfed in flames with the strongest flames on and around their bed and out in the hallway, seeking a means of escape.
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
“Clark honey it’s Okaaay! Settle down, please!”


She eased herself out of bed, approaching him with her palms-open hands out, as non-threateningly as she could. “Hey hey hey. Take my hands, and let’s talk about this, please.”

His overwrought unease had yet to dissipate. To him the outstretched arm hand-holding was like a wedding stance at the altar! “Another ceremony?! I already apparently said ‘I Do’!

“Cruise lovers’ cuddle please, alright?”

He quietly went along with it, still trembling.

“Look me in the eyes, please.”


This simple request took him longer than she expected, truly making her wonder what all was going on in his world. Eventually he managed, still looking devastated though at least now no longer trembling, nor tense nor otherwise acting as though he was about to run off again.

With their eyes locked, hers looking up at his, his looking down at hers, she calmly and slowly explained, “No one can hold anyone to something they said during a fever dream. I don’t understand what your dream means to you, and now I wish that I’d waited to even mention having that video until you were more fully awake and maybe after we’d had our taste-free breakfast. In no way did I intend to upset you! From out here not knowing what’s going on in your interior, I thought it was endearing and adorable. It’s extremely flattering that you would have that kind of dream and your brain would make those words come out of your mouth, even if that’s not at all your waking reality.

“Shall we order breakfast? Maybe put some of our super-soft towels down on the couch and sit there so the bed can air out and dry out?”

“OK, but I can’t wait much beyond bathroom visits, ordering breakfast, and starting tea for me and whatever you’re drinking this morning for you before I explain my internal dream, which all vividly came back to me soon as I heard myself speaking intelligibly.”

“You don’t have to tell me Neener, if you don’t want to.”

“I need to tell you.”


* *
Having not really used the couch much at all so far, it suddenly became their sitting-up secular confessional. With tea and cardboard-tasting pastry in hand, cuddled bottomless hip-to-hip with her, Clark got into his explanation.

“In that dream, of which I truly had no waking, conscious memory until you played that video, we were indeed recently wed—truly dream-real married. So here’s where you’re going to start not liking this, but as you correctly point out, it’s a fever dream, not anyone’s reality. You were twice as fat as you are now—easily. And in my fever dream, you were very contented being and remaining that way.

“The fat wasn’t even the main part. What I felt in the dream and felt all over again as you played the video was the profoundly deep all-encompassing love of every type and every definition of that word in our language that the vast majority of the time I real-world feel being here with you, with our cruise playtime dating and marriage and circumstantial forced living together.”


Deeply touched, she set aside her minimal breakfast plate in preparation for cuddling him deeply. He stuffed the rest of his flavor-free (to him) pastry into his mouth and set aside both his now-empty plate and tea mug towards the same goal.


Cuddled into a familiar yet suddenly very serious embrace, he continued, “In the dream, we were as happy as two lovers have ever been, equally and powerfully proud to be with one another. Earlier in my fever dream when I apparently wasn’t making any real-world noises or motions worth recording, we were together and you were leading us around to meet all friends and family members of importance to you, proud of me and proud of us and our future.

“After that, in the dream we did the same thing, with me taking us around to introduce you to everyone who matters to me. That’s the part you recorded—not all of it which I experienced inside the dream, but it was all that same idea, which is more or less what you did with us with your peeps. Like many if not most dreams, in the dream it was as if everyone was in the same place like at the same party or something, when in reality these people are spread around the U.S. Some of them I haven’t been in touch with for years.” He began to get choked up, tears again streaming out of his eyes, “Some… in the dream… aren’t even… alive any more (sniff). Like my father (sniff).”

The deeply loving gaze between them seemed to transcend time and space.

“So exceedingly proud of having earned the honor of being your husband was I in the dream that my mind even brought back my dead father so that I could introduce you two to each other (sniff). As you captured in your recording, in the dream I always referred to you as Chonky (sniff), rather than Leigh, even though to me Leigh is a beautiful given name!”

Now her eyes were watering, not yet tearing.

“Similarly in the part which remains in my head and could not be real-world recorded, you always referred to me as Neener, not Clark. In all cases, each of our friends and relatives accepted these names as readily as they real-world would our given names. We in my dream did so as well, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.”

He clasped her hands, similar to the way she’d offered them when they’d been standing, “So here’s what I know of what’s going on, that had me all frantic here in our shared waking reality, and still has me somewhat messed up. I love you, Leigh. Real-world love you like that—I know I do. I’ve loved before over the course of my life, as you know at least somewhat from our life story sharing, to the degree we’ve made it through parts of our two long-life stories. This is different. This is more. Waaaay beyond sex, sex appeal, and all that, much as those things matter to me. With every other woman I’ve been with, I’ve felt varying degrees of tension or stress: a need to always be on my toes. The ones I was with longer, not so much, in some cases almost not at all. Almost. Others I’ve been with more briefly including very recent dates with fellow cruisers Beryl and Rebecca have been higher stress. Rewarding to be sure for what they were, in the more limited ways that drew me and each of them together, but at least some background tension nevertheless.” He gave her hands a couple of squeezes, “You are the easiest woman to be with that I’ve yet to experience in my life—easy as in the complete lack of this tension or stress, or so very little compared to all who’ve been in my life before you that it may as well be zero. So far I feel I can totally relax around you and be myself. This was not at all my experience with you at MatCon, nor until we worked through things and got to know each other better and trust each other and I no longer felt the need to be wary and ready to apologize over and over for things I wasn’t aware in the moment were offensive.

“What had me wanting to run away to places that don’t currently exist for me to run to seems to be a combination of factors, some of which remain unclear in my mind through this very moment. The one that is clear is fear: fear of making the wrong choice—the wrong choice for me. We’re igniting the fire of romantic, passionate, caring, bonding, all-encompassing love at a time when our generation was taught that everyone was supposed to already be or at least be transitioning into being sexless grandparents, doddering around minding the grandchildren until we croak. Thankfully that’s not our reality, however for me at least this is likely Last Call for immersive love, especially long-term. Being honest part of me wants to be the playboy I never was earlier in my life, flitting around tasting the amazing variety of fat women and their very different bodies, minds, and spirits. You know well from our pre-cruise past that this wouldn’t be a total first for me, but there haven’t been that many women intimately in my life, hence the reason I hadn’t done anyone other than one night with Alyssa between you at MatCon those years ago and Beryl earlier on this cruise.

“The frantic panic is largely that I don’t know what I want. As mentioned, part of me wants to try the playboy thing, and I did start along that path at the beginning of this cruise. Problem for me is that I found it a lot of work and plenty stressful to make it to the point of intimacy, then a gaping emptiness once it was over, which in both Beryl’s and Rebecca’s cases was more their choice than mine. Though as mentioned, I found it stressful to be on my toes with them, so if things had gone longer, they likely would not have made it as far as the first level of quarantine. Knowing Beryl, I truly don’t know how she’s tolerating the current quarantine level, though she’s positive enough I expect she has her ways. She might or might not have been able to tolerate me in quarantine with her, and I might or might not have been able to handle it. There is no possible way that Rebecca and myself could have been or still be quarantined together, on both our parts.

“With you, it’s all different. We’ve had some moments, but nothing severe. I welcome hearing your reality soon as I unload the small remainder of what’s on my mind. My reality is that I have seriously considered going the polar opposite of playboy: throwing everything in for you, seeking a perpetual bond with you as life partners.”

Now it was Leigh’s turn to be trembling slightly.

“You may not want that at all, and I’m almost done and want to hear whatever you choose to share about anything. At least 3 times since you invited me to move in here together with you, I’ve felt a soul-crushingly strong overpowering sense that I ought to propose to you.”

Hhhhhh!
 

Sonic Purity

Jiggle Junkie
Joined
Apr 9, 2006
Messages
164
Location
Pasadena, California, U.S.A.
“That’s pretty much how I responded! I let it go because to me that sort of commitment ought to be a mutual decision, rather than a power play by one party or the other that may put the other party in an awkward position. This is probably better, letting you know this profoundly deep, innermost overpowering feeling in this way, rather than going down on one knee with a ship-purchased engagement ring in a box in my hand. Far more than any ceremony or tradition, I do not at all know whether such a thing would be good for either of us long-term, no matter how we may feel now. By that I mean I don’t know whether when one carefully scrutinizes each of our true natures, whether both of us together are the marrying or living together ongoing as life partners type—whether that’s best for each of us as individuals. And if it is, are we each the other’s optimal partner for such an endeavor?

“All that chaos hitting me all at once a little while ago very soon upon awakening in drenched sheets, still ill with what almost has to be COVID-19 per our symptoms, was more than my brain could handle—especially my primitive brain in the amygdala, where emotions and fight/flight/freeze happen, as I understand it. That is my full understanding to this moment of what-all went down, between my fever dream and now. Soon as I kiss you, my monolog is over.”


The electrifying current of energy flowing through them throughout the extended kiss made it felt like someone had wired them up and plugged them into 120V house power. Or if not that, that the ship was being torn asunder. Despite slight ongoing achiness and light fevers, neither of them coughed.


“Saying Thank You! seems wholly insufficient for all you’ve just shared. Right now I feel like we’re together, holding onto each other as a unit as we tumble through space. There’s a vertigo slow spinning, like a satellite in orbit rotating on an axis: a unified tumble. Not that I’m an expert because I’m not and I haven’t felt anything quite like this before, but to me it feels like literally falling in love: the falling through space version.”

“Sure that’s not the next chapter of COVID-19?”

“I’ve not read of it being a symptom of anything other than love. Have you?”

“No.”

“I have very little else to say at this time of any urgency or import, other than this: I love you, Clark. Truly and deeply love you, in any and every way of which I know love. It is too soon in my opinion to seriously be talking engagement or marriage. I do want us to be open to seriously considering how we might possibly remain an ongoing very short distance or living-together romantic item past the end of this cruise, to be revisited closer to when that happens, once this new reality in which we find ourselves unfolds further.

“For right now we’re still healing, and while we may be turning the corner and out of the dire woods, we’d best keep our focus on fully healing until we know we’re safe—as safe as anyone is who’s gone through the disease, given that there’s still no official word regarding post-infection immunity, nor how long that may be effective if it exists. How’re you feeling?”

“Worn out, more from all the intense emotions than the virus. You?”

“Filled with gratitude. And love. And about as much flavorless food as I can stand at this time. Up for a shave and shower?”

“Yes. Did my stubble abrade you too much last night?”

“It’s getting there. So are my legs.”

“Is your leg stubble bothering you?”

“Yeah. I like feeling smooth down there, especially when rubbing against you or the bed sheets.”


Shaving together in the bathroom proved to be Clark’s and Leigh’s latest unexpected bonding experience. His needing to hold her belly fully out of the way whilst she shaved the far upper reaches of her thighs proved an especial highlight.


* *
First Deck Officer Ellen Glenn was unsure what to think when she briefly glanced towards Captain Cranch. Her immediate instinct was to jump, seeing a vaguely pistol-like object in his hand pointed at his forehead. Very quickly her brain processed that the object was bright orange plastic, and not especially gun-shaped.

Captain Cranch rotated the IR thermometer in his hand, reading its LCD display. “38 point 5 degrees celsius. Officer Glenn, you are hereby in charge of the ship until further notice. I shall report back via an appropriate means once triaged.”


* *
“We’ll change the bedding ourselves, if your quarantine policies allow that.… We both had massive sweating, and it’ll dry out, but we don’t want to wreck your very nice bed.… Oh really? What happens to them then?… I would like to please be on the list to take or, if the price is fair, buy this one then.… Yes, seriously.… Please do! You might consider working things out with senior management and making this a general offer. I doubt I’m the only one who feels this way.… OK, thanks Emmy! Bye.”


“What was that all about?” Clark asked Leigh at the conclusion of her phone call with Reception.

“They will allow us to change our own bedding under the circumstances, since we’re likely still contagious. They’re dropping off a fresh set in a bag outside the door with a knock as usual for room service and everything else. We put all the old bedding in the bag and leave it outside the door, and they’ll collect it next time one of the stewards passes through our hall.”

“What’s the whole list thing about?” CCCHHH!

“Everyone’s so worried about COVID-19 and all the unknowns of SARS-CoV-2 that once this cruise is over they’re sending the ship to dry dock for a total public interior refresh.”

“They just did one of those on this ship a year or so ago!”

“I know; I read that too when researching the cruise.”

“They can’t afford that! They’re–, this whole pandemic is going to put a huge crimp on recreational public mingling, especially the cruise industry!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Neener. What matters to me is that Emmy says that they’re gutting the stateroom interiors, or at least anything guests can possibly touch. Meaning that they’re disposing of all these amazing cloud-comfort beds. Being in love with our matrimonial bed–”

“–Hey now!”

“Oh, come on, Neen!” she purred, cuddling into him. “You know you’re as crazy-insane in love with me as I am with you. We’ve had this discussion within the past few hours, you’ve admitted you feel it, I assure you I feel it. But anyway, whether you consider it our matrimonial bed as I do, or our cruise marriage bed, or none of the above but just the nice super-comfy bed in my-now-our stateroom, if they’re getting rid of it and I can nab it for what I consider a fair price, I want it. That’s what the whole list thing and the rest of the end of the conversation was about.”

“You’d be doing them a favor hauling it away on your dime and their schedule, so I’d not rush to offer them money.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a truck capable of hauling this bed, would you?”

“You’re getting so far ahead of yourself and reality I can’t even believe it. First we have to fully survive the pandemic. Then you have to find out what Royal Prince has in mind for where they’re going to dry dock this beast, and when their crew is taking the bedding out and how that hand-off will work. To answer your question, I can help you arrange for a moving truck for this, if you want help.”

“Yes I want help. Ideally I want things to magically work out such that you’ll be sleeping in it with me back on land, somewhere where we live together, whether legally married or not.”

“What if we break up?”

She moved his hands onto her soft, fat hips, “Then I’m going to renew my gym membership and get back to the gym! But I still want this bed.”

“I take back what I just said.”

“What?”

He deep-squeezed her hip fat, migrating back to her buns with additional squeezes, “While it’s true your belly does precede you slightly, mostly you go far to the sides of yourself and trail yourself rather than getting ahead of yourself.”

“Be thankful that I’m completely lost to love with you, so pretty much everything you say sounds loving to me. Otherwise I might be ticked for you calling me out for being pear-wide pear-bottom fat. Except maybe not, because your love and your hands and all of you are making me happier being fat than I’ve ever before been in my life.”
 
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