Week In Vegas - by Derek Shane (~BBW(mult) Eating, Romance, ~SWG)

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Deryk Shane

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~BBW(mult), Eating, Romance, ~SWG - Two girls on the road, one helps her friend find love

Week In Vegas
by Deryk Shane
(My 50th Story)

Amanda looked over at him. He smiled back at her. As he did, she noticed his eyes shift up and down her frame. Feeling free and unencumbered, she twisted to her right to see her friend down the aisle, letting her buttocks come more into view.

She glanced back to see him dart his eyes back and forth. She turned herself slightly away from him, and tugged up on her gray speckled cotton stretch pants. And then pulled down her shirt to sit down on the top of her rear. She then turned back to the gentleman who was eyeing her.

She saw a smirk on his face as his eyes coyly looked away, she felt a hand come up along her waist and pull her tightly. Realizing she had been vetoed, she coolly turned her head to look at Stacey, her best friend. Stacey then surprised her, as she spread her fingers out across her soft right cheek and squeezed. All in full view of the stranger.

Stacey looked up at her and with a quick right-to-left shake of her head let her know she didn't approve of the portly twenty-something eyeballing Amanda's derriere. Amanda glanced again at her corpulent friend with a sense of angst in her eyes. Again, she was given a quick nod against.

Once their food was ready, Stacey hurried her back to the car, almost tugging at her. The stranger followed them with genuine interest as they went out of view of the window panes.

“No,” Stacey started sternly, “He's at least 150 pounds overweight, he was wearing a plain tee shirt, has no style--”

“So he was a little chubby,” Amanda interrupted.

“A little chubby? He's bigger than the both of us.”

“He is not.” She started, wanting to argue Stacey's two bills.

“I forgot how big your butt was getting.” She giggled as they got into their rental car. "It's gotten very soft."

Amanda let out an exclamation of feigned horror and disbelief. Then smiled.

Further down the road, Amanda brought up the stranger again. “Look, you have to stop doing that—WE have to stop doing that.”

“What?” Stacey said, looking over at her apparently thin passenger. “Protecting each other from losers trying to get into our pants?”

“Yes, I mean, no. You know what I mean. He was cute.”

“Cute? Maybe a hundred pounds ago. You can do so much better. Have you thought about dating a black man, they love big butts?” Stacey giggled, bringing up her now favorite topic.

“No, I told you to stop that.” Amanda sighed. “Look, it's just that we're not that young anymore. I mean, we're 27 and 26 years old. Our best years are behind us and we obviously set our standards a tad too high. And we're not getting any thinner.” She said, poking her friend's maternity-esque belly.

“So, you don't want to veto? What about the guy I liked last month and you vetoed him?”

“You mean the dishwasher from the Denny's night shift? The whack job? Please tell me you're joking.”

“He was hot. And he did say that the charges were dropped.”

Amanda started laughing. “Look, we just can't keep pretending to be each other's lesbian lovers the moment we want derail a potential no-no.”

She sighed. “We're not in high school. Or college even. Hell, we're almost thirty.”

“Don't say that, Manny.” Stacey quipped.

“It's just, neither of us have the bodies we did in college, even. And the field is thin as it is, if somebody takes interest, I think we should go with it. We can't be so judgmental anymore. You know I haven't had sex in over a year, mostly thanks to you, Chubby.”

“Tsk, tsk, hater.” Stacey chimed back. I know that food has come between me and many dates. In fact, I've almost resigned myself to just blowing up like a balloon and living alone. I just like food more than I like men who let me down,”

She paused and sihed, drawing it out, “all the blasted time.”

“I know, and the thing is. I don't want to be that way,”

Amanda paused and touched her hand to Stacey's upper arm, “No offense.”

She breathed, and finished, “I'm just getting the same way myself, and really, you have no idea what it's like to have a butt this big.”

“No idea, no idea?” Stacey gestured to her whole body, “My butt is still bigger than yours.”

“But, I'm all butt. I still have a 28-inch waist. My arms, face, chest, nothing. Every pound I'm gaining is going right here,” she reached down and grabbed her ass and jiggled, “And it's pretty embarrassing sometimes.”

“I think it looks sexy. At least you still have some definition of curves. My hour-glass shape is nonexistent now that I have this huge belly.”

“Then why didn't you let Mr. Pudgy have a chance? He actually seemed to like my butt.”

“Fine,” Stacey said, changing lanes as they drove down the highway, “If you run across Mr. Pudgy again, by all means, scratch your itch.”

Stacey and Amanda had been friends since grade school. Through all the ups and downs, they've remained extremely close. Amanda, though, always felt slightly insecure about the 'veto power' they employed. More than once she thought maybe Stacey really was lesbian, or at least bisexual, and this was her way of slowly expressing herself. It all started innocently enough.

Hanging out at the mall, a boy Amanda didn't like was trying to flirt with her and Stacey sat down on her opposite side, placed her hand around her waist and said loudly, “What makes you think she likes guys? She's mine.”

Although at the time, she was glad for the defense. It slowly morphed into a repressive cycle, committed by each. Neither wound up with a serious boyfriend. And only a few dates apiece. This, coupled with their feelings about their own bodies, led them to today. Neither felt the need to obsessively maintain their weight. And both ate what they wanted, when they wanted.

It wasn't until she was 22, that Stacey's continued gain started. She just simply ate, continuously. Day and night, the most unhealthful, and most enjoyable, food available.

Given that they shared a small apartment after high school, and then a small two-bedroom house after college, Stacey's bad habits rubbed off. Amanda found herself joining Stacey in her late night ice cream binges. Movie nights on Friday and Saturday were caloric escapades involving pizza, ice cream, cookies, donuts, candy bars, and sugar-filled cola.

Stacey's weight gain was as quick as it was immense. Her weight finally topped 270 before balancing out around 240. Amanda's was much more subtle. The pounds were slow, but very precipitous in location. Never in her family were anyone known for being bottom heavy. In fact, most women in her extended families were known for their large bosoms, and with age, pot bellies to act as support.

Amanda, on the other hand, was gaining weight steadily, and noticeably to her hindquarters. At first, it was the curves she had never had. By 24, her love of denim had given way to stretchier materials. Her hips had rounded, and her thighs had thickened, but it was her immensely protrusive buttocks that caught everyone's attention. Still, she was considered thin.

At work, her expansion was of gossip legend. It slowly turned her inward and without a male partner to comfort her, her comfort was Stacey, and food. And it became a quick cycle. At age 25, at New Years in their house, Stacey finally found out her measurements. Being drunk, and morbidly curious herself, she let Stacey size her up. The answer appalled her; 45 ½ inches.

It became her resolution to at least maintain her weight, rather than resolve to lose it. It succeeded, at first. She had given way of believing herself as a sex symbol and instead as the office pariah. No clothes, other than stretch pants, could fit comfortably over her expansive, and protrusive backside. And shirts and jackets could only rest atop it. This led her to wear many outright revealing outfits, simply as there was no reason to hide it.

Tight red cotton shirt tucked into skin tight beige stretch pants had become her favorite attire. She wasn't even sure why. When looking in the mirror in the morning she was quietly disgusted with herself. And as she walked around at work, she could feel the eyes of countless coworkers traversing her body. But, it became reassuring that she no longer cared. She even grew to love the feeling of the tight pants hugging her every curve.

As her resolution slowly resulted in weight loss, she almost became disappointed her pants had started to loosen a bit. Then came another round of shopping for newer, smaller, and more importantly, tighter pants.

It was in this vain that she found herself in two months previous. Her job, as well as Stacey's had become hectic and monotonous. A merger and a buyout resulted in a shifting of titles, and Amanda was now a glorified secretary, on the verge of being downsized.

When given the notice they were both laid off, Stacey and Amanda both used a small fraction of their savings to take a road trip to Las Vegas for a week. Both agreed to swear off all precautions on food, and just enjoy themselves. As much as they liked the shows, or the slots, their main reason was to visit the buffets and gorge themselves with food in the privacy of their own anonymity.

Amanda knew to pack well. She had both her 'thin' stretch pants and her 'fat' stretch pants. She figured to need them sometime within the first few days. Both girls had a guilty pleasure about their weight gain. It was so forbidden and at the same time so mainstream. So many people they knew were fat. At their fifth-year high school reunion, over half the 'skinny kids' came back at least twenty pounds heavier. Albeit they probably had as much drinking, pizza, and the munchies as Stacey or Amanda had in college.

Arriving at the Bellagio, the girls checked in and found their way to the room. Immediately, Stacey suggested they go have dinner at the buffet. After countless rounds of cakes, cookies, pasta, potatoes, steaks, ham, fried chicken and fish, the two waddled their way back to their room. Groaning as they laid down on their beds, Amanda looked over at her friend, whose bloated belly stuck high above her.

“We have to pace ourselves. That was ridiculous.”

“I know,” Stacey said. “But you could've stopped whenever you'd have liked, bubble butt.”

That was the first time Stacey had called her that. She hated, and adored the term. So descriptive and precise her condition. Yet, also demeaning and insulting.

“Bubble butt, huh?”

“Well, I could call you fat ass.” Stacey smiled. The two started giggling.

The following morning, the two were walking down the strip after their rather light breakfast. Stacey was complaining of her thighs rubbing together.

“That's why you make sure your stretch pants are tight. Even if it shows off everything.”

“I know. I bought these thinking they'd fit me. Guess I need a few more days here.”

Just reaching Tropicana Avenue, Amanda glanced across the street and noticed him. He was wearing a blue tee shirt. Something made him turn and look. Turning around quickly, Amanda hurried, “What do I do, what do I do?”

“Well, you did say if you saw him again...” She trailed off.

“But I really didn't think I would.”

“So, go talk to him. C'mon, I'll introduce you. Look sexy.”

“I'm bloated and wearing a green long sleeve sweater shirt, and skintight maroon spandex pants. I'm not exactly sexy at the moment.”

“Look, you were mad I vetoed you yesterday, and now you see him today. If you really want to take the chance to see if there's something there, go see. Don't just stand here.”

“But, but...”

“Hurry, he's walking back up the strip.”

They hurriedly rushed across the pedestrian bridge, trying to spot him the entire way. After coming down the escalator, they lost track of him in the distance. Both jogging, they were obviously a sight for the tourists. One overweight woman jiggling in all directions, already sweating profusely. And a very large butt bouncing violently with each step as they jogged.

Finally getting within a hundred feet of him, they slow down to collect themselves. Neither had exerted that much energy since they wrestled three months ago over who got the last fun size Snickers bar on movie night.

Amanda could feel the sweat clinging to her thighs and butt. The discomfort almost wanted her to forget about it. She could visualize how stupid she looked. Her blonde hair in a ponytail sweaty and frazzled. Her sweater shirt barely reaching her waistline, and her maroon stretch pants glistening from sweat.

And then she began to doubt his glances. Maybe he was as vain as Stacey and just looking at her butt to scoff at it. Maybe her 'magnificent curves' were really him pillorying her looks. “No, let's don't.” Amanda said to her very damp and overheating friend.

“But, Manny,” she screeched. “I don't care. We just ran a half a block.” She emphasized, “A half a block,”

“I just don't want to be embarrassed.”

“Look, we're in Vegas. If you get embarrassed, then you'll eat a few extra pieces of pie at dinner. So what. Give it a shot,” Stacey retorted, upset over physically exerting herself for what may be for naught.

“But what if he didn't like my butt?”

“Wait, that's what this is about?” Stacey snorted. “Please, if he was eyeing you back at that gas station the way I remember, he was definitely liking your bubble butt.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. That's why I felt the urge to veto him. Something's weird about a guy that likes a butt like yours.” She stuck her tongue out playfully.

“So, how do we do this?” Amanda said, adjusting her shirt and trying to shift her lacquered on pants. “You want to say something to him first, or what?”

“Just follow my lead. And don't be afraid to say what you're thinking. It's Vegas.”

Just after passing Harmon, Stacey finally came up beside Mr. Pudgy in front of Paris Las Vegas. He seemed more structured then before. More muscular than she first thought, but definitely still over three hundred. “'Scuse me,” Stacey said. “Remember us?”

He turned and looked back at them. As his eyes happened over Amanda, his mouth widened into a smile. “Why, yes I do.”

He then bowed his head slightly towards Amanda, and exclaimed, “Hello, Miss.”

Amanda suddenly felt like she was in high school. Something about him turned her on, and she wasn't sure what. But, it appeared to be mutual.

“I'm Stacey, and this is Amanda, but you can call her Manny.” Stacey said, displaying Amanda with her hands as if she were a game show prize.

“James,” he returned, “Nice to see you again.” He said, his eyes scanning Amanda's quizzical expressions of hope, happiness, and dismay. “How're you liking Vegas?”

After Amanda failed to speak, just smiling coyly, Stacey uttered, “Uh, we love it. The buffets are excellent.”

“You don't have to tell me,” He smiled, placing his hands on his expansive girth.

Stacey and Amanda chuckled. Stacey then elbowed Amanda in the side to get her to speak. “Uh, we, uh, were wondering if, uh--” She couldn't compose a full sentence. Their eyes were locked onto each other. Piercing her soul. She felt timid, limp, and unbelievably aroused.

“We were wondering if you'd like to have dinner with us, tonight, maybe.”

Smiling, he had a curious look on his face. “Not every day I get the offer, but I'm not interested in the group thing,” he said, using his fingers interlocking.

Amanda's facial features collapsed. Her eyes welled. “Oh, I didn't mean that I didn't...”

He paused, “like you, per se. I'm just not into group, ah, relations. I mean, it's cool if you're into it, but--”

“Oh, no no no,” Stacey started chuckling to herself, “Not to date us, just bubble butt here.”

Amanda's expression changed from humiliation to despair as she glanced over at her faithful friend.

“Wait, you're not trying a three-way?” He started laughing heartily, “Because back at the gas station, I had just assumed you two were... together.” He began to smile, feeling embarrassed. His cheeks turned red as he said it, realizing he had been mistaken.

“No, we're not. We're just, close. You see. And, this week was to be just us, no men. But, my friend here has grown quite smitten with you after you were checking her out.”

“I wasn't check--”

“Oh, it's alright. She was letting you.” Stacey glanced at Amanda, whose face was suddenly upbeat and slightly pink.

Upon deciding to meet at 6pm at the MGM Grand Buffet for dinner, it was off to the hotel room to decide what to wear. Although it was a 'date' between James and Amanda, Stacey was still going to go along, at the insistence of Amanda.

After perusing all her clothes, Amanda came to her decision. She would wear her favorites. She pulled out her red cotton top, and a pair of pocketless beige stretch khakis. After showering, she began to pace the room. Knowing James' size, she figured they'd be eating a lot at the buffet. But, part of her wanted to hold back. Stacey was reassuring with her thought process, and they decided that Stacey would gorge herself, while Amanda would get some room service now before going to the buffet and then snacking lightly while there.

Stacey picked up the phone and ordered, much to Amanda's consternation, “Yes, we'd like two orders of mozzarella sticks, two orders of lasagna.”

She looked at Amanda, who mouthed, “I thought you weren't eating anything.”

Cupping the receiver, Stacey replied, “This is all for you,” and grinned. Turning back to the phone, “And, do you have any strawberry cheesecake? Ah, New York style. Half. Oh, four orders, then.”

Amanda looked at her, and down at the clothes on the bed, “Well, they are my big pair.”

“That's the spirit. Plus, this James fellow appears to be an ass man. Did you see the way he perked up when I called you bubble butt?”

“Yes, I did.” She turned to follow Stacey as she walked past towards the bathroom. “Which, by the way, I forgot to thank you for. It's so nice knowing you've got my back.”

She stepped right into it.

Stacey walked up and patted her on the butt, “As always.” She sat on the end of the bed, “Which is, if I may, the biggest I've ever seen it.”

“Nah uh, I'm not even in my big pants yet.”

“Yet.”

Amanda was going over everything in her mind. Her hormones were racing. So many stimuli were affecting her thoughts and emotions. She suddenly was very proud of her butt, and very proud that, although not true, her friend thought it was the biggest she's ever seen it.

It had become en vogue to her. And when the food came that she eagerly awaited, she tore in, accepting its results.

Appearing at the buffet, they saw James standing to the side, wearing slacks, a brown sweater, and a sport coat. “Hi,” Amanda said as he stood up.

“Hello, again.”

After some small talk, Stacey lightened the mood, “You know, I told Manny here to get some room service before coming down so she doesn't look like a glutton.”

Amanda just smiled, not sure how to respond, or how he'd respond.

“Well, I like a woman with an appetite. It's refreshing.” He smiled, taking a bite of a rice dish.

“Then you should've seen her an hour ago. She ate a whole cheesecake.”

“Really?” James said.

“Not a whole cheesecake,” Amanda chirped, “Just, ah,” realizing she'd worked into a trap, “a half a cheesecake.”

“That's still more cheesecake than most women will eat.”

After gorging herself, and getting good vibes from James, Stacey excused herself, stating that she was full, and that she wanted to go lay down. Amanda worked hard to hide the smile, knowing her best friend had given James a definitive green light.

Walking down the strip, the two of them waddled slowly, as to not disrupt their full stomachs. Amanda had tried to restrain herself, but after James' comment about appetite, she almost couldn't help it. Her intrigue into this man was nothing she had experienced before. His looks. His demeanor. And his attitude were all different. She kept looking down at her bulging stomach. Still thin, just full. James glanced over, and saw her with her hands on it.

“I just don't know where you put it all.”

Without even thinking it out, she brought her hands around behind her and squeezed firmly on her cheeks, “Right here, mostly.”

Her grin, and reddening face subsided as he smiled back. She felt so normal in his presence. He wasn't judging her for it. In fact, she was certain he was enjoying it all.

“If what Stacey said was true—about the lasagna, and cheesecake—then you out ate me tonight. And that's quite a feat.”

“Half,” she emphasized again, “a cheesecake.”

“That's still impressive.” Criss-crossing remarks, he added, “It looks good on you.”

“The cheesecake?” Amanda smiled, close to laughing.

“Yeah, that's what I meant.” He smiled back.

It was at that moment she knew she definitely had to go out again with James again.

Stopping in at the Venetian, Amanda felt the need to walk in front of James. Her sophomoric giddiness of the situation was all too refreshing. She was a sex object again. She even put an extra bounce in her step as she walked. Knowing it would show up very evidently on her posterior.

Walking her back to her room at the Bellagio, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. He had placed his hands on her sides when he did. She felt his stomach push into her and it was warm and reassuring. As he stood back up, she was starting to question why he wouldn't have taken the opportunity to feel her butt. She was almost anticipating what it would feel like to be groped. Something that had been quite a long time.

Over the next three days, it was a continuous cycle. The three went out everywhere the entire day. And food was no obstacle. They ate whenever and wherever they pleased. And as much as they wanted. Amanda's big pants had filled out to their breaking point by the third day together. The last full day in Las Vegas.

Amanda's biggest concern, not whether her pants would survive the last day and a half, but on why, after all this, James hadn't hinted at sex, or even had touched her butt. She had almost grown obsessed with it. Even giving him opportunities to just reach out. She was almost teasing him with her rump. It was all psychological. She needed reassurance that her body was attractive. And not just that, but sexy. Unadulterated sex appeal.

After dinner at the Bellagio, Stacey and Amanda adjourned to the ladies room to decide a course of action. If any night it were going to happen, it'd have to be tonight. They agreed that Stacey would stay out for a while. If she didn't get a phone call by midnight, she'd get another room for herself. Stacey checked over her friends ballooning backside and agreed that, if a guy liked big butts, hers was perfect.

“Now, go out there, and you show your butt off. And don't be afraid to ask him to the room.”

Stacey excused herself, leaving Amanda and James alone. After some small chit-chat, Amanda longed to ask the questions that have been haunting her. 'Do you like my butt?' 'Why haven't we had sex?'

She finally asked, “Would you like to come upstairs with me?”

His facial expression, and his response, were why she was falling in love with him. “I would love to. But I know this week was for you and your friend, and I didn't want to interrupt that.”

“Well, tonight is my last night here. And...” She trailed off.

“I would love to.”

That night, she never called Stacey.

The End


“Weekend In Vegas” ©2008 by Deryk Shane
 

Deryk Shane

Active Member
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This is my 50th story. Unfortunately, the tabs didn't translate, so nothing's indented.

I'm currently working on posting all of my stories, somewhere.

I know it's a broken record, but I will, someday, have them posted on the 'net.

Thanks for all those that enjoy my works, and I hope you enjoy my latest.

Deryk
 

Phrozen

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Excellent story! As always, of course. And congratulations on your 50th!

It's simply the best news I've heard in a long while to see that you've resurfaced and that you intend on posting a lot of your old stories. I have always loved your works. You would be pleasing a rather large mass of people by posting your other accomplishments. :) Although I do not wish to push you in any way. Take all the time you need, of course :)

Good to see you back!
 

Vader7476

Divine Sith Lord
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Oct 21, 2005
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I liked it, but what a tease! Stopped just when it started going.
 

Coop

Proud owner of Megas
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Sep 30, 2005
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I loved Tiffany's expansion but the current one here is riddled with errors.

I would love to read a revised and perhaps expanded (How she evenutally gains to 340 during those 2 months) version of it.
 

outroducin

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Man i really wish you would write more than once every 7 or 8 months, you write my favorite stories hands down!
 

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