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Chickenshack

The Girl Behind the Counter

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Part 1

"That'll be $33.94 please!"

The voice that rang out in front of me was crisp, clear, sweet. It rang out more melodically than a choir of angels, and I could practically feel my heart melting into a puddle as it grazed my ears.

"Uhh, yea ok," was the contrasting gruff response of the man standing in line in front of me.

It was 6:15 on a Wednesday evening and I was standing in line at Finoli's, a mom-and-pop pizza place that was a little out of the way for me; it was about two blocks over from the route I normally took during my evening jog. I wasn't a particularly big fan of eating out, especially not the cuisine here; I was on the track team at my local university and keeping in shape was a pretty top priority of mine. Sure, Finoli's might have been delicious, I'll admit, but this stuff was rich. It was no exaggeration that the food here was just about the most fattening stuff you could get your hands on in town, and I was in no mood to eat anything so heavy just a few days before a meet.

The man in front of me clumsily fumbled for a few bills in his pants pocket while I silently waited my turn to order.  God, was he the exact example of what I was desperate to avoid  in my life. Even from behind him, the view I had of his body flat-out repulsed me.

The difficulty that the man had reaching into his own pockets came from his own love handles; his side flab was getting in the way of his meaty, useless arms. I smiled, confidently flexing my biceps under the sleeves of my hoodie.

Fat Guy lumbered forward to the counter, his breathing labored and audible. Did he know what kind of food he was in line for? Anybody who wasn't even in good enough shape to stand in a food line should have really been paying more attention to exactly what kind of food waited at the end of it. And this food wasn't particularly expensive either; the price of his order told me that this fat failure hadn't even had the health sense to get something small.

Heh, did he eat so much because he was always a pig, or did he look like a pig because he ate so much? It was a chicken-and-egg type scenario that I silently pondered to myself with a chuckle. But only for a moment. With Fat Guy finally turning to get the fuck out of the way, it was finally my turn to place my order. A salad and grilled chicken breast, most likely. Never much of an eater, I wasn't really all that hungry to begin with.

No, there was an entirely different reason I was here. And as the gruff, annoying  fatso in front of me got his receipt and lumbered off to take his seat and wait, that reason came into view.

"Hey Davie, how ya doing today?" 

This time, my heart actually did melt.

"H-hi Katie," I stammered.

There she was... Long, brown hair, those almond-shaped green eyes, her full, chubbyish cheeks and, God, that smile...

Katherine Iaccone was a solid 10 out of 10. A little bit on the curvy side, sure... But that wasn't always something to complain about. Her plush cheeks did a lot to fill out her otherwise slim and angular face and forced her bright emerald eyes into a very slight but very sultry squint.

Her arms were like her face: soft and full, tan, plush without being too plush...

And the rack on this girl...

Even as modest as her employee shirt was, a plain black polo tee with the restaurant name on the back, her breasts pressed heavily against the front, speaking to their fullness and roundness beneath the cotton fabric.

I did my very best not to stare, choosing to focus on her eyes instead and doing my best not to get lost.

"I'll just get my usual," I said with a casual grin. "To go."

"Mmhmm," she said, with a knowing smile. "Grilled chicken and basic bitch salad, right?" she looked up, her smile curling into a jovial grin.

"I mean, if that's who's making it," I fired right back.

This had been the routine since I first started coming in a couple of months ago. I had been a bit nervous at first, but our flirty banter was finally down pat and all that was left was for me to make my move. That was the only reason I had really kept coming to Finoli's at all, but she was a damn good one, if you asked me. I had never laid eyes on anybody so gorgeous. Even if she was just the slightest bit on the chubby side... that was definitely something we could work on together. If she agreed to date me.

"Oh, you're so clever dude," she said sensually, leaning on one arm while she gazed at me. I noticed her not-so-subtly look me up and down once or twice and silently cursed out of frustration that I was wearing one of my baggier hoodies. The crisp, biting wind of a March evening in New Jersey certainly wasn't allowing me to wear one of my more revealing tank tops; I wanted to give her a better look.

"Well, I gotta be at peak condition for my track meet on Saturday. We're going up against Northeast State and somebody has to carry the rest of the entire team," I joked in a hopefully subtle "humble" attempt to highlight was she was missing.

She rolled her eyes. "I hear you, Marathon Man," she replied, using her other nickname for me. She licked her lips as she said it. "I obviously have gone in a different direction in life," she held her arms out, gesturing to her curvy physique and silently giggling at her own sense of self-deprecation.

God... no joke, she was the absolute definition of "full-figured". Her breasts, although not "huge" in the traditional sense, still had more than enough heft to jiggle enticingly as she chuckled to herself.

I stood there with the same "casual" grin on my face, speechless and feeling hotter by the second.

Katie only looked up and smiled. "That'll be $8.69, babe," she broke the silence for me. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Nope, that's it," I breathed.

"Okay. Just give it a few minutes," she muttered, punching numbers into a touch-screen computer wired to the register. I pocketed my change and took a seat on a wooden varnished dining chair on the other side of the dimly lit restaurant space. My order was likely to take less time than whatever one-person smorgasbord Fat Guy planned on wolfing down, so I likely had a precious few minutes to regain some composure before I made my "move". Katie might have had the kind of down-to-earth personality that made her easy to talk to, but she was absolutely stunning in the looks department and that alone made her unnerving. She had a beautiful face with slightly tanned, Mediterannean skin to go with it. Her breasts were soft, full and inciting of lust and virility. Unfortunately, with that obtrusive counter in the way, I had never gotten a look at anything lower than about mid-sternum. Not that that mattered; I was a boob man through and through, and Katie's were more than enough for me.  I really never cared for a girl's ass, honestly, the smaller and firmer the better. I wasn't expecting Katie's to be "firm" exactly, as she was a little more on the plump side, but, from the looks of it, most if not all of the extra weight that she did carry had settled very nicely up top.

"Greek Chicken Salad!" a heavily Spanish-accented voice shot out from the kitchen in the back. So much for "authentic Italian".

"Coming!" my dream girl replied. She slowly pushed herself off of the counter with both arms, letting out a cute "huff!" and making her way to the back. The counter was the sort that ran all the way around, so even at this angle I could only see her from about elbow up, her chest bouncing ever-so-slightly as she took her time making her way to the kitchen. She, of course, returned just a few seconds later with a plastic bag, looking over in my direction with her soft, inviting smile.

"Greek Salad for Mr. Marathon," she sang out.

I gulped. Easy, David. You got this.

I trotted back over to the counter to pick up my food.

"Thanks," I smiled.

"Anytime," she smiled in turn, "can I get you anything else?" she asked innocuously, slowly twirling her straight brown tresses between manicured fingers.

Now or never.

"Yea," I put my hands in my pockets, for lack of anywhere better to put them, really. "I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night." I smiled, keeping eye contact and trying to gage the look in her eyes. "I know a pretty nice sushi place on Forest Ave if you're sick of pizza," I finished the line I had practicing in my head over and over.

Katie gleamed. "First of all," she began, "I could never be sick of pizza," she emphasized the word never, "but yea, I'm free tomorrow," she ended with one of her chest-bouncing giggles.

"Awesome," I said. "Lemme just get your number," I reached for my phone.

"Ooh!" Katie squealed, "Already beat you to it!" she rapidly pressed a few buttons on the moniter before pulling her phone out as well. "It's saved in your customer profile from the last delivery you placed." She began pressing buttons on her phone now, somehow even more rapidly than she had been typing on the touch-screen. Sure enough, my phone let off a buzz a few moments later.

"It's Katie =)" it said.

"Wow, creep," I responded, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

"Ugh, shut up," she said, laughing. "I didn't take it down before," she blushed.

"I know, I'm just kidding." I was beginning to breathe a lot more easily. She had said yes! 

"I just," she began to blush more deeply, "I-I'm just surprised. And flattered," she quickly added.

"Hmm?" was my only reply.

"No no! It's just that I know you're "Mr. Fitness" and... and I've seen some of the looks you give some of our other customers," she punctuated this with a nervous grin and another eye-roll. Apparently I hadn't been so candid in my critique of Fat Guy as I thought. Right as I was about to silently go back to cursing him in my head, Katie continued.

"I just didn't think you were into... umm... "thicker" girls." She began to blush even more furiously now. "I'm sorry for being weird! I just don't get asked out a lot and I always figured it was because of my weight." She looked downward as she said this, embarrassed.

I gave her a puzzled look. Katie had, in the past couple of months, always been vocal about the fact that she didn't like that she was on the curvier side. It often came up in our conversations with her complaining about the effect working here had on her figure. Sure, she was a little bit bigger, but certainly only in the right places. And even then, she couldn't have been carrying an extra 30-40 pounds on her frame, if that. 

"You're joking," I replied softly, leaning on the front counter and subsequently closer to her. "I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," I said sensually, practically oozing confidence as my eyes roamed hungrily from her own green, sparkling eyes to her plump, sensual lips and back. She had the slightest bit of a double chin, but only as she looked downward with a nervous laugh.

"Really? Are you sure you've gotten a good look at me?" Back to that self-deprecating sense of humor. I was starting to see it more now as less of a quirk and more of a defense mechanism. "I'm a really big girl," she said more to herself than to me, accentuating her statement by absentmindedly running her hands down her sides. My hungry eyes followed the trace of her fingers until mid-waist level where they disappeared behind the counter that separated us. "Probably a lot bigger than a lot of the girls on your track team." She looked up at me as she said this, her doe eyes looking at mine with an expression that failed to hide a lot of past pain and frustration.

"Well, none of the girls on the team have any curves either," I cooed. I hoped I wasn't being too forward.

Katie smiled and cocked her head curiously. "You... like my curves? You don't think it's too much?" she inquired with a dreamy, hopeful look.

"I think you're just thinking up reasons to turn me down easy," I chuckled. Obviously, I didn't. I just preferred to keep the conversation on topic.

"Nonononono!" she backpedaled. "Forget it, dude! Yes, I am totally free tomorrow night," she said, straightening up and beaming at me. "I work the morning shift, so I'm free all day after 4."

"Sweet," I replied, "how's 6 work for you?"

"Six works for me." she capitulated with a soft giggle and an even bigger smile.

"Great!" I smiled back. "The place is called Fujiyama's, it's right near where the old AMC used to be."

"Okay ummmmm, do the chairs there have armrests, do you know?" she quickly added.

Armrests? The fuck if I knew. "Uhh," I thought for a second, "well I know they have booths and tables-"

"Do you know if they're bolted down?" she fidgeted. Why the hell did that matter? One of the things that I found irresistible about Katie was that, yeah, she was a little weird in her own way, but that only made her stick out even more as an individual. But this was more than a little-

"Nevermind!" she hastily cut off my train of thought. "Like I said, tomorrow at 6 is perfect!"

~Clang clang~

A service bell went off in the kitchen.

"Order 34!" soon followed in more accented English.

"Oh. That's Lou's dinner," she said with an almost sad look, gesturing to the customer I had been so callously scrutinizing earlier.

"Yea, I hate to have to bother you at work," I chuckled, inwardly seething at this out of shape catastrophe of a human being just for existing yet again. "But I'll call you tomorrow?" I began to turn around and walk toward the door, cutting my losses and leaving while the tension was still high.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow, David," Katie called out softly to me, her voice just as sweet and angelic as ever.

Once I was out of the restaurant, out of sight with salad in tow, I was practically skipping down the sidewalk, subconsciously gripping the phone in my pocket with my free hand. Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a night indeed.

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Part 2

Fujiyama's was a recently-opened upscale sushi buffet about 10 minutes from my college dorm. I had been there already once or twice and knew it'd be a pretty chill spot for a first date, the decor was still new and the atmosphere relaxed. It was never terribly busy; the spot was still in its infancy and hadn't yet fully established its clientele. I pulled up at around 5:45 and found a spot close by, parking quickly before checking my hair in my rearview mirror.

I stepped out of the car and smoothed my outfit. After a few brief texts sent between us, we'd agreed on "casual" for the evening. I'd gone with the classic dark blue t-shirt and jeans, making sure everything was just tight enough to show off the physique she had missed out on viewing earlier. And of course, on top, my varsity jacket. My phone buzzed.

"Almost there! <3"

I smiled and sighed to myself before striding toward the restaurant, shooting back a quick affirmation text. I'd figured that it was a nice enough day where I didn't mind waiting outside. I even unzipped my jacket, leaving the outline of my pecs prominently on display.

No lie, I was looking good tonight and I knew it. Casual or not, I had dressed to score with the hopes that Katie had done the same; I was dying to finally see her in something low-cut. That counter in that little mom-and-pop shithole was a veritable ocean to me, and her drab, monotonous t-shirt was like the thick white fog that obscured from me the twin peaks of my salvation.

Ok, I'll relax. But Katie's body was still a mystery to me, one that I was hoping to unravel soon with any luck. Any second she'd be here, prancing toward me in whatever cute outfit she had picked out for the evening to show off her abundant "curves". Sure, she may have not been a fan of them, but I was practically drooling in anticipation of the sight of her full bosom, her plush, soft skin... I couldn't wait to scope out the length of Katie's legs and the curvature of her calves; I wondered , did Katie have a thigh gap?

I knew these things weren't important... except they were. I was a good-looking guy, not some fatty like the asshole from yesterday. I took great care of my body, so I deserved a girl who did the same. Katie was only a little on the chubby side, but I couldn't care less. Her boobs were fantastic, and her legs were probably still long, smooth and just a little bit plush just like her arms. Whatever weight she gained seemed to settle itself right on her chest. She certainly did get a lot of mileage out of complaining how heavy she was though. Odd, since it really wasn't like she was even that big. For a girl who barely looked more than 160, 170 pounds tops, Katie was awfully critical about her figure. Then again, I'd spent more than enough time on the track listening to girls who could use pinky rings as hula hoops complain about "needing to lose a few pounds", so I chalked it up to just being a girl thing.

But I would alleviate any of her suspicions the moment that she arrived. I'd hug her when she showed up and pick her up in my arms, showing off my upper body strength, of course, and give her a little twirl, if only to see her hair flutter momentarily in the breeze. You know, first date stuff.

A sudden cry of my name to my right interrupted my postulating.

"Hey! Davie!" my angel called out to me from down the front sidewalk. I smiled, blinked once and cleared my throat. Showtime.

"Hey," I turned my head to my right and began to turn towards her, "Kati-".

I stopped dead in my tracks. My jaw hung open, scarcely believing what I was seeing. Waddling slowly but briskly towards me with the same captivating grin that had stolen my heart a million times over was the upper half of a practical goddess on Earth... attached to the lower half of some impractically obese monster.

Katie was fucking massive. I could finally see what the counter at Finoli's had been obstructing all these months. Her lower half was exorbitantly, fantastically obese! Her upper half was plump, soft and delectable, her bosom finally on proud display in a (not too) low-cut pink tank top with a faded red sweatshirt thrown over it. But right below mid-waist, things just got out of control. Katie had a pretty serious muffin top. Her love handles jutted out at a practically 125 degree angle from her torso and stuck out more than a few inches, resting on her hips and culminating in front with a sagging pot belly that hung freely over the waistline of her leggings, a solid sliver of tan, olive skin showing underneath where her too-small tank top was failing to cover it. It jiggled in time with her awkward shuffling gait, her hips, thighs and love handles joining in to form a symphony of movement that timed itself to her lightly labored breathing. Said hips clearly led the ensemble, literally bouncing up and down with each heavy, plodding step she took across the pavement.

Katie's hips were easily the first thing that drew my eyes in surprise. Beneath her love handles, her saddlebags flared out to an absurd degree, taking up the entire sidewalk with ease, and then some. How did this woman even fit through doors without having to turn sideways? Her white striped leggings left absolutely nothing to the imagination; as she slowly got closer, I could see that her hips and thighs were aggressively testing the outer seams running all the way down her gyrating, barrel-sized legs. It'd likely be the case for the inner seams as well, if there were any possibility of me seeing them. So much for a thigh gap.

Even Katie's calves were plump, thickening gradually as my eyes made their way up from her tiny, flip-flop-clad feet and dainty ankles  to her flabby, dimpled knees. Katie took a noticeably wide stance when she waddled er- "walked". I viewed it as an obvious necessity; her legs were so thick and wide in their circumference that she had to swing each one over and around the other, her thighs jiggling rhythmically with her hips and rubbing against each other with a faintly audible swish swish sound all the same.

This certainly validated all of Katie's earlier talk about her weight woes. The girl had to be the fattest person I'd ever met! And the crazy thing is, it had barely effected her above a certain point. I could easily fit one arm around the thinnest part of her waist, but likely couldn't even fit both around the thickest part of her thigh. I almost wondered if it was some sort of sick prank, if she had run out and bought a pair of size 8x white and black striped leggings and stuffed them full of cookie dough. But the way Katie's enormous legs wobbled as she walked... No, this was nothing but fat. Pure, heavy, jiggling fat. I almost wanted to heave.

"Hey, cutie," she said, finally reaching me after what seemed like ages. She was panting audibly. I realized only now that my jaw was still practically to the floor and I had been staring this whole time.

"Uh-um. Hi," I sputtered. I don't think I was picking this girl up and twirling her around anytime soon.

Still panting from the walk over from wherever she had parked, Katie pulled me into a soft, long hug.

The embrace was heavenly... wasn't it? I was finally getting what I wanted. Katie's perfect boobs were pressed up against my hard, chiseled chest, my muscular arms locking around her plush, womanly phiysique. But then there was the matter of her surging belly fat pressing up against my crotch that was somewhat ruining the immersion. And also, if her hips and legs were this big... Dreading what lay just inches beneath my arms and knowing full well what I was expecting, I glanced over her shoulder and looked downward.

Katie's ass was huge. Impossibly, ridiculously huge. I'd heard the old saying about being able to rest a cup on a girl's ass, but I could probably fit an entire service bar on her butt with how far it stuck out behind her. Hell, looking at what I had in front of me, I was starting to think that I'd probably need one.

I mentally reassessed my question from earlier. How did this woman fit through doors even WHEN turning sideways?

She pulled away from our embrace  finally and took a few teetering steps back, giving me a long once over.

"You look nice today," she said, looking up into my eyes. I was about 5 inches taller than her, which means she came about as level as my still-agape jaw. She smiled coyly and slowly lifted her hand to rest underneath my chin, inching my mouth shut for me. "Speechless?" she continued speaking softly, her panting having died down. "I thought I'd wear something that showed off my curves tonight, since you em so much," she capitulated with a wink. Her expression radiated a confidence I had never seen when she had talked down about her body, as though she was riding high on the courage she must have had to muster to even leave the house in that sort of an outfit. For a first date with a cute guy no less.

I only scoffed inwardly. Curves? Like I could have had any idea that this is what she had really been warning me about!

Katie turned toward the restaurant doors and began moving in their direction, giving me an even better view of her titanic booty. Wow. I had clearly mistakenly thought that Katie's hips and thighs had been leading the show, but her butt? Her butt was the absolute showstopper.

The two round, wiggling, globular orbs that comprised her ass cheeks easily put to shame even the extra-large yoga balls that I did my ab crunches on, furiously jiggling up and down, left, then right, and sticking out from behind her to such a ludicrous degree at they actually began to droop over the backs of her overblown thighs at the top. Her butt was stretching the seat of her gigantic leggings beyond their limit and I could even make out the outline of her lacy red thong underneath. Hopefully that would be staying ON tonight, my lust from earlier in the evening, and indeed from the past couple of months, having officially sputtered out entirely.

"This is the place?" Katie chirped over her shoulder back at me. "I looked it up online, it sounds great! I didn't know it was all-you-can-eat."

I gulped. Admittedly, I had originally gone with a buffet spot primarily because devoting so much time to track and field meant I wasn't working any jobs currently and money was tight. The look of excitement-turned-anticipation in Katie's eyes told me that she had agreed to eat here for an entirely different reason. "Hurry up, Macho Man!" she called out behind her before turning back to the entrance. "I haven't eaten since I got off work and I'm super hungry."

Hadn't she gotten off of work just a couple of hours ago?

I gulped, swallowed and then began striding up to the door in the wake of my "angel", albeit quite a bit more surreptitiously. Katie was already squeezing her way through the restaurant double-doors, a generous amount of hip meat brushing up against the frames on either side before she "popped" her way in like a cork with a bit of an unladylike grunt.

"Oof!" she sounded before turning around to face me. "Technical difficulties," she giggled, lightly patting the tops of her breathtaking hips with a quick awkward blush before reaching out and taking my right hand in her almost equally as slim left. "So, Mr. Marathon," her smile gleamed in the bright, sterile restaurant lighting. "Are you gonna escort your date to her seat or what?"

I gulped, giving the weakest, unsure attempt at a friendly grin I could muster, my words still not entirely returned to me yet. Katie merely blushed further and giggled, still deluding herself with the notion that my lack of anything smart or natural to say came from how enraptured I was with her figure. Well, she technically wasn't wrong.

"Yea, of course," I spat out half heartedly, regrettably sure that my appetite, as well as my intentions for the entire evening, had already turned tail and run out the door.

This was going to be a hell of a night, alright.

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(edited)
On April 11, 2019 at 7:36 AM, Chickenshack said:

Part 2

Fujiyama's was a recently-opened upscale sushi buffet about 10 minutes from my college dorm. I had been there already once or twice and knew it'd be a pretty chill spot for a first date, the decor was still new and the atmosphere relaxed. It was never terribly busy; the spot was still in its infancy and hadn't yet fully established its clientele. I pulled up at around 5:45 and found a spot close by, parking quickly before checking my hair in my rearview mirror.

I stepped out of the car and smoothed my outfit. After a few brief texts sent between us, we'd agreed on "casual" for the evening. I'd gone with the classic dark blue t-shirt and jeans, making sure everything was just tight enough to show off the physique she had missed out on viewing earlier. And of course, on top, my varsity jacket. My phone buzzed.

"Almost there! <3"

I smiled and sighed to myself before striding toward the restaurant, shooting back a quick affirmation text. I'd figured that it was a nice enough day where I didn't mind waiting outside. I even unzipped my jacket, leaving the outline of my pecs prominently on display.

No lie, I was looking good tonight and I knew it. Casual or not, I had dressed to score with the hopes that Katie had done the same; I was dying to finally see her in something low-cut. That counter in that little mom-and-pop shithole was a veritable ocean to me, and her drab, monotonous t-shirt was like the thick white fog that obscured from me the twin peaks of my salvation.

Ok, I'll relax. But Katie's body was still a mystery to me, one that I was hoping to unravel soon with any luck. Any second she'd be here, prancing toward me in whatever cute outfit she had picked out for the evening to show off her abundant "curves". Sure, she may have not been a fan of them, but I was practically drooling in anticipation of the sight of her full bosom, her plush, soft skin... I couldn't wait to scope out the length of Katie's legs and the curvature of her calves; I wondered , did Katie have a thigh gap?

I knew these things weren't important... except they were. I was a good-looking guy, not some fatty like the asshole from yesterday. I took great care of my body, so I deserved a girl who did the same. Katie was only a little on the chubby side, but I couldn't care less. Her boobs were fantastic, and her legs were probably still long, smooth and just a little bit plush just like her arms. Whatever weight she gained seemed to settle itself right on her chest. She certainly did get a lot of mileage out of complaining how heavy she was though. Odd, since it really wasn't like she was even that big. For a girl who barely looked more than 160, 170 pounds tops, Katie was awfully critical about her figure. Then again, I'd spent more than enough time on the track listening to girls who could use pinky rings as hula hoops complain about "needing to lose a few pounds", so I chalked it up to just being a girl thing.

But I would alleviate any of her suspicions the moment that she arrived. I'd hug her when she showed up and pick her up in my arms, showing off my upper body strength, of course, and give her a little twirl, if only to see her hair flutter momentarily in the breeze. You know, first date stuff.

A sudden cry of my name to my right interrupted my postulating.

"Hey! Davie!" my angel called out to me from down the front sidewalk. I smiled, blinked once and cleared my throat. Showtime.

"Hey," I turned my head to my right and began to turn towards her, "Kati-".

I stopped dead in my tracks. My jaw hung open, scarcely believing what I was seeing. Waddling slowly but briskly towards me with the same captivating grin that had stolen my heart a million times over was the upper half of a practical goddess on Earth... attached to the lower half of some impractically obese monster.

Katie was fucking massive. I could finally see what the counter at Finoli's had been obstructing all these months. Her lower half was exorbitantly, fantastically obese! Her upper half was plump, soft and delectable, her bosom finally on proud display in a (not too) low-cut pink tank top with a faded red sweatshirt thrown over it. But right below mid-waist, things just got out of control. Katie had a pretty serious muffin top. Her love handles jutted out at a practically 125 degree angle from her torso and stuck out more than a few inches, resting on her hips and culminating in front with a sagging pot belly that hung freely over the waistline of her leggings, a solid sliver of tan, olive skin showing underneath where her too-small tank top was failing to cover it. It jiggled in time with her awkward shuffling gait, her hips, thighs and love handles joining in to form a symphony of movement that timed itself to her lightly labored breathing. Said hips clearly led the ensemble, literally bouncing up and down with each heavy, plodding step she took across the pavement.

Katie's hips were easily the first thing that drew my eyes in surprise. Beneath her love handles, her saddlebags flared out to an absurd degree, taking up the entire sidewalk with ease, and then some. How did this woman even fit through doors without having to turn sideways? Her white striped leggings left absolutely nothing to the imagination; as she slowly got closer, I could see that her hips and thighs were aggressively testing the outer seams running all the way down her gyrating, barrel-sized legs. It'd likely be the case for the inner seams as well, if there were any possibility of me seeing them. So much for a thigh gap.

Even Katie's calves were plump, thickening gradually as my eyes made their way up from her tiny, flip-flop-clad feet and dainty ankles  to her flabby, dimpled knees. Katie took a noticeably wide stance when she waddled er- "walked". I viewed it as an obvious necessity; her legs were so thick and wide in their circumference that she had to swing each one over and around the other, her thighs jiggling rhythmically with her hips and rubbing against each other with a faintly audible swish swish sound all the same.

This certainly validated all of Katie's earlier talk about her weight woes. The girl had to be the fattest person I'd ever met! And the crazy thing is, it had barely effected her above a certain point. I could easily fit one arm around the thinnest part of her waist, but likely couldn't even fit both around the thickest part of her thigh. I almost wondered if it was some sort of sick prank, if she had run out and bought a pair of size 8x white and black striped leggings and stuffed them full of cookie dough. But the way Katie's enormous legs wobbled as she walked... No, this was nothing but fat. Pure, heavy, jiggling fat. I almost wanted to heave.

"Hey, cutie," she said, finally reaching me after what seemed like ages. She was panting audibly. I realized only now that my jaw was still practically to the floor and I had been staring this whole time.

"Uh-um. Hi," I sputtered. I don't think I was picking this girl up and twirling her around anytime soon.

Still panting from the walk over from wherever she had parked, Katie pulled me into a soft, long hug.

The embrace was heavenly... wasn't it? I was finally getting what I wanted. Katie's perfect boobs were pressed up against my hard, chiseled chest, my muscular arms locking around her plush, womanly phiysique. But then there was the matter of her surging belly fat pressing up against my crotch that was somewhat ruining the immersion. And also, if her hips and legs were this big... Dreading what lay just inches beneath my arms and knowing full well what I was expecting, I glanced over her shoulder and looked downward.

Katie's ass was huge. Impossibly, ridiculously huge. I'd heard the old saying about being able to rest a cup on a girl's ass, but I could probably fit an entire service bar on her butt with how far it stuck out behind her. Hell, looking at what I had in front of me, I was starting to think that I'd probably need one.

I mentally reassessed my question from earlier. How did this woman fit through doors even WHEN turning sideways?

She pulled away from our embrace  finally and took a few teetering steps back, giving me a long once over.

"You look nice today," she said, looking up into my eyes. I was about 5 inches taller than her, which means she came about as level as my still-agape jaw. She smiled coyly and slowly lifted her hand to rest underneath my chin, inching my mouth shut for me. "Speechless?" she continued speaking softly, her panting having died down. "I thought I'd wear something that showed off my curves tonight, since you like em so much," she capitulated with a wink. Her expression radiated a confidence I had never seen when she had talked down about her body, as though she was riding high on the courage she must have had to muster to even leave the house in that sort of an outfit. For a first date with a cute guy no less.

I only scoffed inwardly. Curves? Like I could have had any idea that this is what she had really been warning me about!

Katie turned toward the restaurant doors and began moving in their direction, giving me an even better view of her titanic booty. Wow. I had clearly mistakenly thought that Katie's hips and thighs had been leading the show, but her butt? Her butt was the absolute showstopper.

The two round, wiggling, globular orbs that comprised her ass cheeks easily put to shame even the extra-large yoga balls that I did my ab crunches on, furiously jiggling up and down, left, then right, and sticking out from behind her to such a ludicrous degree that they actually began to droop over the backs of her overblown thighs at the top. Her butt was stretching the seat of her gigantic leggings beyond their limit and I could even make out the outline of her lacy red thong underneath. Hopefully that would be staying ON tonight, my lust from earlier in the evening, and indeed from the past couple of months, having officially sputtered out entirely.

"This is the place?" Katie chirped over her shoulder back at me. "I looked it up online, it sounds great! I didn't know it was all-you-can-eat."

I gulped. Admittedly, I had originally gone with a buffet spot primarily because devoting so much time to track and field meant I wasn't working any jobs currently and money was tight. The look of excitement-turned-anticipation in Katie's eyes told me that she had agreed to eat here for an entirely different reason. "Hurry up, Macho Man!" she called out behind her before turning back to the entrance. "I haven't eaten since I got off work and I'm super hungry."

Hadn't she gotten off of work just a couple of hours ago?

I gulped, swallowed and then began striding up to the door in the wake of my "angel", albeit quite a bit more surreptitiously. Katie was already squeezing her way through the restaurant double-doors, a generous amount of hip meat brushing up against the frames on either side before she "popped" her way in like a cork with a bit of an unladylike grunt.

"Oof!" she sounded before turning around to face me. "Technical difficulties," she giggled, lightly patting the tops of her breathtaking hips with a quick awkward blush before reaching out and taking my right hand in her almost equally as slim left. "So, Mr. Marathon," her smile gleamed in the bright, sterile restaurant lighting. "Are you gonna escort your date to her seat or what?"

I gulped, giving the weakest, unsure attempt at a friendly grin I could muster, my words still not entirely returned to me yet. Katie merely blushed further and giggled, still deluding herself with the notion that my lack of anything smart or natural to say came from how enraptured I was with her figure. Well, she technically wasn't wrong.

"Yea, of course," I spat out half heartedly, regrettably sure that my appetite, as well as my intentions for the entire evening, had already turned tail and run out the door.

This was going to be a hell of a night, alright.

Oh whoops. Sorry, I didn't mean to repost this, I'm still new to how posting and editing works and was trying to fix a few grammar mistakes in Part 2. If any mod knows how to delete this last post, I'd appreciate the cover-up :)

Edited by Chickenshack
Whoops!

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Holding hands with Katie wan't exactly the easiest procedure. With how wide her hips flared out, walking side by side was out of the question. Instead, I was awkwardly positioned in front and to the left of her, my right arm uncomfortably contorted backward while she leaned forward ever so slightly in order to grasp it. It was an arrangement I hardly minded, quietly prefering, as it were, to keep my eyes focused on the host's desk a few feet in front and not on the mammoth I had accidentally brought with me to dinner. Sideways glances showed me that the few diners that were there that night were watching us avidly as we passed. I thought I might have even heard a few of them giggle softly before turning to each other to whisper their callous judgments and awestruck remarks. How could they not? Centering my eyes forward, I attempt to pick up the pace, if anything, just to get to our table sooner.

"Slow down, babe," Katie called from behind me, her light gasps for breath having already returned. I looked back and gave a weak smile of apology. Gosh, from the neck up, she still looked remarkably beautiful. Her forehead shone lightly with perspiration in the restaurant lighting and her lips parted as she panted, steeped over slightly as she struggled to keep pace with me. Granted, running track meant I was used to seeing girls sweaty and out of breath; it had even become kind of a turnon for me.  But normally I watched girls get out of breath from running dashes or clearing hurdles, not from walking just a few steps.

Katie's body was simply just not built for mobility. 

As I said earlier, she had to have a decent amount of muscle buried somewhere under all that leg lard, otherwise I hardly see how she'd be able to even shuffle along at the glacial pace that she managed. Her own thighs were her biggest obstacle, both literally and figuratively. It was their inability to smoothly navigate past each other without forcing her feet into such a wide, cumbersome stance that meant she could barely put one foot more than a few inches in front of the other. Doing so required swinging her jiggling calves out and over, in a gesture so clumsy and ungraceful that her exorbitantly swollen hips took up even more space as she teetered side to side. 

And it all seemed to be for nought. Even turned back around to face the kiosk, I could still hear the rhythmic SWISH SWISH of her thighs as they oozed one over the other, every step forward an ostensible obstacle course for the poor girl.

By the time we had both arrived at the host kiosk, she had untwined fingers with me to bring her hand up to lightly fan her face while the other rested on her monumental hip. She was taking deep breaths, seemingly trying her hardest to seem like she was not, in fact, completely exhausted from walking down an aisle at a brisk pace. She was doing a poor job.

Over the sound of her breathing, I cleared my throat and piped up. It took me until then to realize that I had been so awestruck up to that moment that I had barely uttered a word. The hostess currently had her head down, deft fingers quickly stroking names down on a clipboard while she looked back and forth between her pen hand and a large scarlet book of reservations. She was an exceptionally thin, young Asian woman, probably older than the two of us but not by much, with her hair back in a ponytail. Upon hearing me clear my throat, her head quickly shot up in a warm, actually genuine smile as she took the two of us in. She managed to speak before I did.

"Welcome to Fujiyama's!" she greeted, her accent heavy and her voice jovial. "Table for two, for you, I'm assume?" She all but winked when she said it, too, drinking in the sight of the young couple on an obvious date night.

"Yea," I smiled back, albeit weakly, "we should have a reservation."

The hostess looked at Katie then back at me and practically blushed on our behalf. "Of course, you two." she cooed. "Let me just-"

"Umm, actually," to my surprise, Katie, having moved over to her right and sidled up next to me, interrupted. "I was wondering if we could request a few extra chairs. Armless, please? If you have them..." She looked off to the side as she said this, as if not willing to acknowledge herself that it was quite the unusual request to make. Looking back, or looking downward, rather, I no longer had any queries as to what she had meant the other day at Finoli's when she had inquired into the seating arrangements. Our hostess, on the other hand, had had her head down for the entirety of Katie's monumental plod to her concierge desk and was none the wiser. Looking at Katie, her proud bust resting on the countertop as she leaned against it for support, the hostess's gushing smile slowly shifted into a confused grin.

"Oh, very sorry," the woman spoke, "You have more guests arriving?" she inquired.

At this, Katie blushed. Her breathing was still slightly elevated and, although she had stopped sweating outright, her forehead still had a distinct sheen to it that was only emphasized by the lights from above. "Umm, no. They're just for me.," she managed to utter. She looked down as she said this, clearly embarrassed to admit it.

The hostess's smile of confusion disappeared entirely and was quickly replaced with a scowl.

"Listen, guys," she started. All traces of her "heavy accent" had clearly and abruptly vanished in her flusterment. "If you make a rezzie for two, ya get a rezzie for two. We can't have people grabbing small tables and crowdin' em with their friends-"

"its just us!" Katie interrupted. She attempted a smile that I'm sure was supposed to come off as casual, but instead just made her look nervous and uneasy.

All that smile seemed to do was incite our hostess even further.

"Oh really?" she cocked her head as she spoke. "You just need all those extra chairs for your colossal fat ass, right babe?"

I looked over at Katie, just as shocked to hear it as she was. Even if her words had been a factual summation of what I had been feeling thus far this evening,, to say it out loud to the girl was a few steps too far.

"Excuse me!" I barked at the woman. I hardly knew what I was doing when I first opened my mouth. I hadn't opened my mouth since I had awkwardly greeted Katie all of five minutes but what seemed like an eternity ago. But I let emotion and bravado carry my words for me, as disoriented as my brain and my libido currently was at the moment. Obese or not, Katie was a sweetheart. And she was my friend. We'd spent hours in that little restaurant confiding in each other and swapping stories, sharing personal anecdotes and opening up about our aspirations. Even if I found her exorbitantly oversized lower half unattractive, there was some part of me that felt obligated to come to her rescue.

"So what if she does?" I asked, a little more loudly than I had intended. Around me, the heads of the Fujiyama's patrons that hadn't been turned towards my zaftig girl acquaintance raised in interest.

"Okay," the hostess cockily crossed her arms and smirked defiantly, "does she!?! Yea, you need 'a few extra chairs,' and I flew in from Nagoya last week," she continued to openly mock Katie to her face, confident she had cornered two college punks who had thought that they could score a free meal for a few extra buddies. 

Katie's face at once turned a shade of red that effortlessly put to shame the hue that she had been displaying thus far on our date night. Begrudgingly, almost dutifully, she lifted herself from the counter in front of her and pitched her plump body backward in her customary awkward, waddling shuffle in order to bring her full physique into view for the heckling hostess. Katie had scarcely the nerve to raise her head as she did so, let alone make eye contact, although my eyes, on the other hand, were zeroed in on our hostess's pupils, waiting for the sheer and utter look of shock and revelation that was soon to adorn her trim, angular features.

Suffice it to say, I wasn't disappointed.

As Katie came into clearer view, our hostess's eyes traveled downward. Then her jaw traveled downward as well.

The change in her facial expression, and in her overall demeanor, was both more than immediate and apparent.

"Nanite Kotoda..." she muttered under her breath, her eyes firmly fixed downward at the sea of adipose that had been revealed to her so suddenly. She was decidedly less subtle in her "appreciation" of Katie's preposterous curvature as I had been.Her jaw remained hung and her eyes transfixed for several seconds while she gaped onward, completely befuddled and transfixed.

It took another stern clearing of my throat to snap her out of it. She looked at me, her face a look of sheer embarrassment and terror. She looked back at Katie, her arms quickly transitioning from being crossed over her chest to being raised up so that her hands could cover her mouth even as she spoke.

"I'm. I'm so sorry!" she muttered weakly through cupped hands. She continued, not bothering to resume her artificial accent, clearly more concerned with saving face and hastily correcting her behavior. "We can ab-absolutely accommodate any needs you have here at- umm at, at Fujuyaya's and, and.. I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." she trailed off, her voice trembling as she apologized.

Katie's eyes were focused decidedly downward, silent and stoic, as if the cheap linoleum tile of the restaurant floor would offer her any sort of reprieve from her embarrassment.

The similarly embarrassed hostess lowered her arms submissively and interlaced her fingers in front of her undoubtedly flat stomach, bowing her head in the same fashion as the thoroughly ridiculed girl standing to the left of me had.

It was I, still riding high on whatever Papa Bear adrenaline had been coursing through me, that spoke first.

"I don't appreciate you talking to my date that way," I began, completely on some sort of weird autopilot. Katie's hippo hips were clearly a very sore point of note for her, and the look on her face she was mirthlessly attacked for them was enough of something to spur me to her defense.

For what it was worth, I was far past the point of thinking that Katie was merely "curvy" as she had stated, but she had used the word earlier, and perhaps my using it would bring her some sort of comfort or confidence. "Do you talk this way to all of your customers?" now crossed my arms, "or do you just have some sort of weird bias against the curvier ones? Or um, do you just-" I attempted to continue, although I was swiftly running out of things to say.

"Of course not!" the hostess practically whimpered, doing me a blessing by cutting me off before I could begin stammering. Her head shifted from one side to another awkwardly as she steeled herself to look in any direction other than the one of the two dining patrons that she had just so egregiously offended. "Please allow me to show you to your seat- umm seats! How many extra did you say that you would be needing?" she said, the guilt and regret in her voice practically palpable as she tried her very best to both backpedal and be as accommodating as possible.

The smile that she plastered onto her face was still jus as genuine as before, but now far more obligatory and apologetic.

Not entirely sure of the answer, I looked over to Katie. At this point, there was a single tear streaming down her cheek, although she was smiling. Despite her eyes appearing to be glued to her feet, or rather, to the upper parts of her thighs that eclipsed them, I could make out that she was admiring me, slowly tracing me up and down as the corners of her mouth curled into a reassured grin. Without raising her head, she demurely held up a hand with three raised fingers.

"Three," I turned to the hostess, practically demanding them from her.

The hostess, likely wishing to cause no further offense, hastily agreed.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, perhaps a little too eagerly. Almost as though she wanted this entire awkward experience to be over with as soon as possible.

As she turned to walk away, she stole one more less-than-subtle glance at Katie, looking her up and down, then left and right. Her eyes briefly locked with my date's before she sharply turned her head away in embarrassment and cleared her throat.

"R-right this way," she uttered, before swiftly striding away from us.

My eyes lingered on the hostess as she bashfully scurried away. Although my face wore a look of discontent, the rest of my body felt a different urge entirely. This woman, unlike the one I had mistakenly invited to dinner with me, was FIT. Compared to the girl I had next to me, the visual difference between watching the hostess walk away from us and watching Katie desperately waddle/squeeze her monstrous, thunderous ass through a set of double doorways was like the aural difference between a choir of angels and a cacophony of demons. The way the hostess's butt, though narrow and firm, still had more than enough curvature to it to fill out her work jeans was beyond enticing to me, and her hurried sashay was a welcome display when juxtaposed against the lumbering, slow and inefficient waddle that resulted from Katie's wildly corpulent caboose.

Speaking of Katie, and not wanting to dwell on my new crush for too long in fear of arousing suspicion with my current "date", as I had used the term (lightly, in my opinion), I turned back towards the behemoth I had just so vehemently defended. She had gone from looking down and smiling to staring straight at me, absolutely beaming. She stood there, breath steady and even, looking into my eyes with such a longing and joy and hope that I hardly had the heart to tell her that I was silently wishing that I was any other place in the world but in that restaurant with her right then. Maybe with that hot, slender hostess for companionship, a definite upgrade compared to current company, mind you.

Katie, fortunately, seemed none the wiser. Wiping the sole tear from her cheek, she wobbled forward, smile as big as ever, and reached her hand behind my back. Sensually, smoothly, she casually guided her other arm around my neck as she pulled me into a soft, well, very soft embrace.

"You're fucking awesome," she looked up and whispered to my face.

And what could I do at that point? She was there, clutching me, no gripping me, as if she was desperate for the longing, loving and subsequent support of someone of the opposite sex that her fattened figure had likely denied her for an agonizingly long time.

And so, with the hostess looking back at us and a bunch of other patrons and seemingly the entire state of New Jersey watching me, I looked her dead in the eyes and played with her hair and held her slimmer but supple upper half in my arms and told her the biggest lie that I've ever told anyone in my entire life.

"I think you are, too," I whispered back.

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@Jps7832, I'm sorry for the long absence! Now that I suddenly find myself with an ample amount of time to write, I promise to devote more time to more frequent updates. I guarantee you, GUARANTEE you that Part 4 will be up and posted by the end of this weekend :).

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Very good story but I feel like telling the protagonist to be truthful with what he likes. Give ME a chance with this Katie bish. (I picture her something like Love Randalin but a lot bigger. ) 

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Katie and I broke away from our embrace. Her eyes, her beautiful green eyes, they lingered on me for a moment longer before breaking away and turning to the still-embarrassed hostess.

“Right this way, please,” the woman said.

More waddling. This time, Katie took the lead and went ahead of me. We were fortunate enough that Fujiyama’s wasn’t terribly crowded today…. As we headed into the dining area, I could see the immediate obstacle that the tables and chairs would present.

At the very least, the chairs didn’t have armrests. I did NOT see how that would have ever worked logistically.

“Huff… huff…” Katie lumbered forward in front of me, her lightly labored breathing having gradually made its return. Even had I not had my eyes glued to her preposterously wide posterior, she would have been easy to follow based solely on the noises she made. I couldn’t help but hear the sound of her labored breathing, the soft thud and subsequent creak of tile every time her feet met the floor, and, of course, that ever-present SWISH SWISH of the two colossal pillars of Italian jello that she called legs.

I watched those legs as they swung outward and then forward so haphazardly she seemed like she might tip over at any moment. Trailing behind her, I scoffed inwardly at the idea of catching her were that to happen. God, walking behind Katie now reminded me that it wasn’t just the impractical thickness of her legs  swinging over each other that made her strides so difficult. The sheer size of that ass… The sheer amount of weight the poor girl’s legs must have had to support every single time she stood…

I looked downward dead ahead of me, eyes glued to the largest globes of human flesh I had ever seen attached to a sole entity. Even with the tiny, slow footsteps she managed,  her ungainly butt  was sent into furious motion. Each monumental cheek jiggled violently up and down, warring desperately for space in the confines of her ridiculously tight but still ridiculously massive leggings. Waddling ahead of me still, Katie turned her head back to me and caught me staring. I looked up; our eyes met and she smiled, winking softly at me before reaching back with her left hand and giving the top of her corresponding cheek a light slap. I weakly returned her smile as best as I could, at least until she turned around and that smile slowly morphed into a grimace. She couldn’t have possibly thought that I- or anybody- could have really been admiring all of that.

We seemed to still be drawing the heads of what few diners were there as well. Still not able to fully tear their eyes away, there were a fair share of hushed whispers snickers, and I even thought I heard the camera on someone’s phone go off.

Katie, reaching a set of tables about three feet apart, began the process of turning to her side so that she could more easily navigate through them. She turned to look at me and blushed again, but flashed me a dazzling smile in the process. I almost wondered if she was acutely aware of how much attention her medical marvel of a derriere garnered her in public. But… well, there was no way she couldn’t be.

Still, though, she kept a stoic face all the same, even while executing some odd cross between a crab walk and an Apatosaurus plod in order to navigate what, to her, constituted a “confined space”. It didn’t look like threeish feet of room was even enough; as Katie attempted to squeeze her gigantic, wobbling ass through, her mighty butt knocked over a protruding chair.

“Oops!” She said, looking backwards alarmed as it clattered to the ground. I could already see the distraught look in her eyes as she began the ever-so-awkward act of pivoting around to reposition it. I sighed, doing everything I could to roll my eyes.

“I got you, don’t worry,” my familiar faux grin etching itself back onto my face as I trotted over to her.

“Oh, you’re such  a gentleman,” she cooed, her breathe ragged but her voice just as sweet and angelic as ever. She said it in a flirty sort of way, but her eyes and her smile really brought to light the sincerity of her words. Despite my better judgment, the sincerity to my smile returned as well.

Honestly, smiling at her when I only had to  look at her upper half was easy. Curvy, sultry, sexy, there were so many words I would use to describe what I had in my direct line of vision. She had a light sheen of sweat covering her face but all it did was to give her smooth, flawless complexion a resplendent glow. How she managed to look so stunningly beautiful in such bland restaurant lighting was a true testament to just how blessed this girl really was in the looks department. At least… to a point. Once you got to her lower half, that blessing quickly transitioned to a curse.

Katie shuffled over to create space for me while I attempted to maneuver around her ungainly legs and bottom.

The hostess, in the meantime, had already made it to our arrangement and was hastily muttering something to another Asian waiter, a guy this time, in a foreign language. Looking up past Katie’s jutting hip, I could see that the man, alarmed and confused, was looking back with incredulity between the slender woman issuing him orders and the colossally obese woman slowly shuffling towards him. He seemed to snap out of it, though, hastily scrambling for more seats as my companion finally, finally arrived at her table.

I had just finished repositioning the chair that Katie’s ass had swung into like a marshmallow wrecking ball. I lightly jogged over to catch up, effortlessly traversing an amount of ground in seconds that would have taken the girl that I was catching up to veritable minutes to cover.

The hostess took a few steps back from us before addressing us.

“Please, enjoy evening at Fujiyama free of charge,” having regained (most of) her composure, the svelte woman had resumed her heavy fake accent. “Big apology for misunderstanding, yea?”

On the side of the table, the waiter was hastily positioning a worn-looking wooden bench along its end.

“We get very wide bench for you,” he chimed in. This man was quite a bit older, and something told me accent was a lot more genuine and authentic. “No armrests,” he continued. “Its good yea?”

“Oh,” she replied, very out of breath and clearly eager to sit down. “Y-yes that’s… huff… that’s umm, its perfect but… huff… Just umm, do you think you can… huh...  just scotch it back a little more?” The man eagerly complied. “Okay, umm… A lot more,” she hastily added.

The man looked up and then back at the hostess. She shrugged and the man pulled the bench further away from the table. He then quickly readjusted to a standing position, uttered the word “Enjoy” a little too mechanically, then bowed and excused himself.

Katie slowly began the process of maneuvering herself to sit. She did her best, directly across from me, to seem casual about it but it was obvious to me that sitting down gracefully was something that took quite a bit of exertion at her size.

I could see the clear struggle in her eyes as she tried to lower herself down as slowly and gently as possible. She got about halfway down before she started grunting audibly, the sheer weight of her own ass turning the action of performing a quarter of a squat into a true herculean endeavor. She made it about an inch lower before her leg muscles succumbed to their burden, not that anyone could blame them. Katie dropped down the last foot or so with a resoundingly loud plop, a sharp squeal on her part and an even sharper, more ominous creak from the weathered bench beneath her. She was pretty much panting now, fanning herself with one hand while the other stretched over to reach for one of two cold, sweating glasses of water on the table.

She sat a little elevated on the bench, likely because of the sheer size of her ass, and I could note that she was sat far back enough where she didn’t have to actually fit her legs under the table; I could imagine how cruelly the wood might cut into her thighs if she tried. I wondered how low the chair or likely chairs or even park bench or whatever she sat on behind her work counter was to the ground that I hadn’t suspected anything.

Not wanting to seem like I was staring at the gasping, sweaty spectacle, I instead turned to our hostess.

“All good here?” She said to the two of us. With Katie still alternating between panting for air and sipping from her glass, I was left to respond.

“I think so, thank you,” I said back to her. She gave one more apologetic glance to Katie and flashed me a grin as well before sauntering off. I stared at the hostess as she sashayed away, albeit for a different reason than I had been staring at Katie. Now THAT was a figure. Sure, she might not have been just quite as pretty as the girl in front of me, might not have had a smile that was just quite as dazzling, but just the fact that she din’t come with all of that bottom-heavy baggage put her leagues ahead of Katie in my opinion. My eyes couldn’t help but linger on her as she made her way back to the front.

“Yea, that lady was kind of a bitch, wasn’t she/“ Katie said, catching me off guard. Her breath had evened out enough for her to talk a little more steadily and, luckily for me, it looked like she had misinterpreted my lingering gaze. “I practically wanted to stare her down too.”

“Yea, hehe,” I chuckled nervously, embarrassed at almost being outed but trying to seem supportive. I was pretty heavily distracted by way when, even seated, the tops of her thighs still crested over the height of the table and bulged into view.

“Thanks for sticking up for me, though,” she continued, gushing softly. “A lot of people would’ve just laughed.” She frowned a bit as she said this, and I knew that she must have been speaking from experience. Something about that did make me feel a little awful. Katie just didn’t seem like a mean spirit at all, certainly not someone who deserved to be harassed like that. And I could imagine similar scenarios when she went to other places. IF she went to other places. I could imagine that Katie didn’t exactly have the luxury of exploring the world all that much, given her “condition”.

Wanting to change the subject back to something a bit less depressing, I tired to turn things around with a joke.

“At least free food’s not the worst thing ever, right?” I forced myself to sound jovial.

“Pssh Heck yea,” Katie cocked her head to one side and her smile returned, “I never ever say no to free food.”

I wouldn’t have guessed, Katherine. I wouldn’t have guessed.

Almost feeling guilty, I kept my eyes level with hers, but raised my drink menu just high enough so that, from my angle, I had eclipsed my view of anything below her sternum.

And there she was. My Katie again. The gorgeous girl behind the counter. She was still trying to get her breathing under control but was lightly playing with her radiant, almost sparkling hair. It was so easy to forget about everything else when it was just her top half in front of me.

“Yea, I think my wallet knows how you feel,” I replied playfully, my eyes still level with hers as she chuckled in response.

“Why don’t you just melt down a few of those gold medals, Mr. Triathlon?”

“ALL of them? I’m not trying to destabilize the economy, here.” Not my snappiest comeback, but Katie and I were slowly getting back into our groove.

It was remarkable how easy it was to banter with her back and forth they way we always had when I just kept her face and her chest in view. We shot the shit for a few more minutes, I guess Katie was still giving her poor feet a rest, and things began to feel natural again, comfortable even.

Being a buffet, Fujiyama’s was self-service, which meant that when we were ready, we’d have to get up to retrieve our food ourselves.

Sure enough, after enough time had passed in our conversation, Katie clapped her hands together. “Alright dude,” she said, a slight sense of urgency in her voice, “like, let’s eat!”

The facade was over. As Katie began the process of standing up, far more arduous a process than sitting down, her titanic hips and gelatinous thighs rose into view. The feelings of comfort, elation, and, most importantly, attraction that been beginning to resurface in me ground themselves to a halt. As she attempted to rise, she sank both of her delicate hands into the soft, sagging, voluminous canvas formed in front of her by her thighs. With one mighty push and a very unladylike grunt, she managed to rise back to a standing position, her hips wobbling wildly as her fat readjusted herself to its standing position.

Finally stood, she shuffled out sideways from her peculiar seating arrangement before turning to me and playfully smirking.

“Race you there,” she smiled.

I let out a laugh that was more like a scoff, that was a lot less playful and a bit more harsh, like a bark of incredulity. I hadn’t meant to… but really? Had this girl looked in the mirror recently? Could she even find one big enough?

Katie only blushed and rolled her eyes, showing that she indeed recognized the absurdity of her statement, obviously just trying to continue with the humorous banter. “Whatever, Marathon Man,” shot at me and then sighed, turning around towards the buffet area with her usual jumbo jostling pivot.

And at the moment her butt came back into focus, all of the feelings of paramour were completely washed away again. It was some sort of cruel prank, it had to be. All this time I had thought that the counter at Finoli’s had been obstructing me from the perfect woman but it had actually been hiding the real obstacle this entire time.This massive, bulging bulwark of blubber she called an ass.

The last thing I heard her say over the audible rhythmic sashay of her thighs, more to herself than to me, was “I’m super super hungry…”

Yea, I, on the other hand, had just lost my appetite again.

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The wisdom of Solomon would say to cut this girl in half. I’m guessing a plot twist of a twin sister?  A bonk on the head and he suddenly loves her figure?  A relationship based on the upper body and carefully positioned desks?

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We'll written story, but I'm holding my comments 'cause I don't know where his lack of appreciation is going. Thoroughly enjoying the descriptions of her and her struggles, tho

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36 minutes ago, high said:

We'll written story, but I'm holding my comments 'cause I don't know where his lack of appreciation is going. Thoroughly enjoying the descriptions of her and her struggles, tho

Honestly, Im not entirely sure where this story is going anymore. Its just a ton of fun to write the character lol.

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16 hours ago, Chickenshack said:

Honestly, Im not entirely sure where this story is going anymore. Its just a ton of fun to write the character lol.

Hmmm...one idea might be to complete this first date, and then have a part two that fast forwards a year or two—it’s the same date, but he’s enamored. Leave the readers to imagine what happened in between....

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