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The Girl Behind the Counter


Chickenshack

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I stood up in shock, my mouth agape. The majority of the other patrons in the restaurant turned their heads towards the commotion. Looking around, I could already see numerous servers making their way over to our table. And, of course, the first person to reach our table was Ms Traffic Stopper herself, Courtney.

“Holy crap,” she said, her face colored with shock. “What the heck happened?” Even though it was easy enough to piece together what had transpired. “Are you hurt, Miss?”

I suppose that Katie was fortunate enough that she had adequate… “cushion”, as she called it, to soften the fall. But even if she wasn’t hurt physically, I was pretty sure that the emotional blow that resulted from being now too bottom heavy to both stand and sit was beyond what she could handle. She was about as red in the face as her deep mediterranean complexion allowed for, and the tears were welling in her eyes.

“I- I’m fine,” she stammered, fully aware that she was making a huge scene. Other servers had gathered around her and a few of the other diners had stood up from their meals as well to get a better look at what had caused such a clamorous racket. There was a man off to my right taking off his glasses to wipe them clean so he could view the calamity more clearly and, behind me, I could hear the cruel snickering of a couple of teenage girls as they giggled and whispered to each other viciously about the schadenfreude taking place for their purview. I just stood there speechless.

Katie was trying to rise to her feet on her own as quickly as possible, but sitting on a broken bench on the floor certainly presented more of a challenge than rising up from a normal sitting position.

Stone-faced as I was, I actually didn’t blame the two girls behind me for laughing. Katie’s top half was wiggling side to side, left, then right, as she tried to get off of her wide butt and on to her feet, but her bottom half was barely shifting. The whole struggle looked comical. Her futile movements led to the legs on the left side of the bench snapping as well, her hip fat falling nearer to the floor with a resounding ‘plop’! Several of the employees were speaking to each other in hushed but agitated tones, gesticulating angrily between the girl stranded on the floor and each other. I’d watched enough anime throughout my life to know that they were speaking Japanese, but had no idea what they were saying. One of the older, sterner looking men turned to Courtney, tapping her lightly on the arm and whispering something to her in his foreign, melodious tongue. Courtney frowned but nodded.

“Ma’am, is everything okay?” she asked a clearly not okay Katie in English. “Any splinters, or…”

“No, I’m fine,” Katie looked around at all of the different eyes that were on her, looking every bit like she wanted to just shrivel away and disappear on the spot. “I just-“ she twisted and contorted on the ground a few more times, but still to no avail. She flashed me a pleading look, lips trembling, before she glanced down at her own lower body, the cause of her embarrassing predicament.

“I don’t,” she sniffled, tears of embarrassment already rolling down her delicate cheeks, head still hung low in shame, “I don’t think I can get up by myself…”

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The servers continued to speak to each other in subdued tones as they debated and discussed Katie’s unusual request. I was sure that many of them had seen their fair share of overweight patrons in their time; they were buffet workers after all. But I doubted that too many of them had ever encountered a young woman so fat, so encumbered by her own obesity, that she couldn’t rise under her own poser. Katie wasn’t looking at me and I was thankful for that. I felt completely impotent to do anything but watch with the same confusion and helplessness as all of the other men. It was Courtney who broke through the chatter, trying to assess the situation as best as she could.

“I uh, think we might actually have to charge you for that,” she turned to me, crossing her arms. She did not look too happy. “Maybe we would have been better off with the chairs,” she mused quietly. Katie didn’t overhear; she was too busy quietly sniffling to herself, trying not to make it too obvious that she was sobbing to herself. “Any input here?” Courtney asked me. Like I knew what to do.

“Umm, I guess that we should move the table out of the way,” I shrugged.

“Makes sense,” Courtney nodded. She and I slid the table well out of the way, being careful not to disturb what remained of Katie’s meal, and reassessed the situation from there.

“Babe,” Katie whimpered, “do you think you could just pull me up?” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked up to me with a pleading, desperate look.

All eyes turned to me… Like I had said earlier, there was no way I was going to be strong enough to lift her all by myself… Plus, I wasn’t really a big fan of her calling me “babe” in front of other people. I guess part of me was still guiltily hoping to convince Courtney that this was a “blind date” sort of situation, and not that Katie and I had actually been building a pretty strong attraction before our mutually agreed outing that night.

“Uh, I think this might be a two-person job,” I admitted, chuckling nervously. Katie frowned.

Courtney seemed to agree, at least.

“Alright,” she said, turning to one of the burlier looking servers. She pointed toward Katie and instructed him to do something in Japanese. He barked out a one-syllable response and quickly strode over to my side. He gave me a gruff nod and made a flexing motion with his bicep, as if to pantomime to me that we were both strong enough to accomplish this on our own. I doubted it. Still, though, the two of us approached my beached manatee- er, whale of a date and I cleared my throat.

“Hey,” I put on my most comforting smile, “do you think you could hold your arms out for me?” I looked to the muscular, silent guy next to me. “For us…” I corrected.

“O-Okay,” she slowly lifted her arms and grunted a bit as she tried to stretch forward. Her legs were already spread apart at a pretty wide angle due to the immensity of her thunderous thighs, but she still tried to separate them even further so that the two of us could stand in between them to get closer for better leverage. It didn’t make a terrible amount of difference; even parted, Katie’s legs touched all the way down to her dimpled knees. Taking the server’s hand in her left and mine in her right, she sighed resolutely and prepared to attempt to shuffle forward and, hopefully this time, upward.

“Okay!” the server asserted, showing that he did indeed know at least a bit of English. “Count to three,” he nodded again. I nodded back.

“One, two,” the server counted down confidently, and on “three!” the two of us heaved, with Katie trying her best to launch herself forward.

She didn’t budge. Well, her bottom half didn’t, at least. It remained glued to the floor, barely shifting, save for the constant slight jiggling that pretty much any movement on her part normally caused. We counted off to three and tried again, with a similar lack of success. It was like trying to pull an old stump out of the ground by what remained of its branches… I could practically feel my arms getting ready to be yanked out of their sockets. I mean, I could barely squat two hundred twenty pounds at the gym, there was no way I could handle all of this, even with a man who was clearly stronger than me assisting. Although we barely spoke the same language, I could tell by the bewildered look on his face that he must have felt the same. The man and I kind of just… looked at each other, not knowing whether to make another attempt or, hell, to knock down the restaurant walls and roll a construction crane in.

“Okay,” Courtney stepped in, “how about this.” She crossed her arms again and furrowed her brow in focus. “Two on each arm and…” She paused for a moment, glancing at me and clearing her throat.

“And then,” she added, trying her best not to make direct eye contact with Katie, “we probably need somebody to lift from the back, too…”

I blanched a bit. Please don’t say that it should be me...

“I guess it should be you,” Courtney said out of the side of her mouth, “just because its a little bit invasive.”

“Yea, that’s fine,” Katie answered for me, having overheard. “Just… hurry up, please,” she added dejectedly, looking around quickly to see if she was still the center of attention. She was. At this point, the tears had stopped flowing freely but her eyes were still red and her makeup was a bit blotchy. She struggled for a few more moments, trying to raise her knees up and inch her feet as close to her center of mass as possible. “Okay,” she squeaked, “I think I’m ready.”

Courtney nudged me in the arm and gestured for me to position myself behind my stranded date. I couldn’t help but notice the slightest sneer on her face, as though she was subtly enjoying some part of this as I took a loud, anxious gulp and nervously strolled past Katie’s hips to come face to face with her monstrous rear. It took me a few seconds… Katie, spread across the floor like that, sure did take up a lot of space. Katie wiped her eyes and tried to smile in my direction, hopeful that this entire embarrassing experience might be over soon with my help. I didn’t return the smile, I didn’t even return eye contact; I was a little too embarrassed.

“Okay,” I tried to stretch my arms a little bit, having nearly strained them to the point of soreness with my first two attempts from up front. “So, should I grab her under the arms and… lift, or something?” I wasn’t entirely sure of the logistics of that… Katie had a LOT of ass protruding out from behind her, enough that I would have had to lean over in order to get any semblance of a decent grip around her under arms. From such an awkward position, there was no way that I would have the leverage to be really any help at all.

“No,” Courtney clarified, “I mean you’ll probably need to get, you know, under there and…” she pantomimed a motion like she was trying to lift up a heavy sofa. “If that’s okay with you,” she added to Katie. Katie nodded quickly without looking up. That was likely for the better. Courtney’s sneer was creeping wider and wider across her face, to the point where I noticed her “pretending” to scratch the top part of her lip in order to hide the smirk she was now wearing. After the “show” that Courtney had given me earlier, I was sure that she felt as though this complete contrast was only making her look even more like the fairer, sexier candidate in my eyes. And, if she was thinking that way, then she was certainly right. Still, she seemed to be the one doing the most to rectify Katie’s seating mishap either way, even if her role was primarily relegated to directing the actions of the other men and, of course, myself.

I looked down at Katie’s mammoth glutes and then back up at my woefully inadequately sized hands. It probably would have been smarter to have one person per cheek, maybe even two, but I didn’t want to make the suggestion, lest it embarrass Katie any further. The muscular server in front was joined by three others, two per each arm like Courtney had detailed, and, although I was sure that most of the restaurant was still awestruck at the disproportionately obese young woman still pinned to the ground in the midst of their evening meal, as the servers looked up to me to confirm that I was in position, I felt like all eyes were on me. I wasn’t anticipating this… I was going to have to slide my hands under Katie’s copious pounds of extra fluff and try somehow to get some sort of solid grip on all of that blubber. Courtney had managed to regain a straight face and looked to me, rolling her eyes just ever so perceptively and flashing me a polite work grin.

“Alright,” she said, “they’re ready whenever you are.” I nodded and bent over into a squatting position, thinking about the sheer amount of physical contact that I was about to have to make with Katie’s squishy, sagging, fantastically fat ass. Hugging her felt… unique enough on its own, but this? I wasn’t feeling ready at all.

~~

I have an author page now! There's a TON of stuff over there that I haven't posted onto Curvage, and its constantly updating with new content, including chapters of this very story that haven't made their way onto here just yet (for reference, this is the first half of Chapter 11 and I'll be rolling out Chapters 13 and 14 later this week). If you want, you can view it right here:

https://www.amazon.com/Shaq-Writer/e/B0872G5WW6%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

It's only a fledgling as of now, but check back in a week or two and there will be a downpour of original and commissioned stories that I'm currently in the process of wrapping up. Keep a lookout for some of them to appear in the Curvage Clips section as well, under "Stories". And as always, thanks for the feedback and support, and stay tuned for more :)

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“Okay,” I exhaled, getting into a squatting position. I was going to have to slide my hands, no, likely both of my entire arms, under all of Katie’s corpulence and do my very best to try to lift her up without throwing my back out. The other servers were waiting on me, watching me with intent as I began to slip my upper extremities in between her bulbous, soft ass and what remained of the mostly destroyed bench.

Katie gasped a little bit. She was already blushing from having embarrassed herself thus far, and I was positioned behind her, so I couldn’t get a good look at her expression. I could, however, catch the shit-eating grin Courtney had smeared across her face off to the side. Unlike me, she was appreciating every moment of this…

My arms sank right into Katie’s giving flesh with barely any issue. I was actually a bit surprised by the texture of her skin; I’d expected all sorts of pockmarks, cellulite and wrinkles like with most other fat people I’d sneered at in the past, and while they certainly were there, she was remarkably smooth compared to how she could have felt. With the way Katie’s monumental ass molded around my hands and upper arms but then still maintained full contact with the floor elsewhere, I couldn’t just insert my arms underneath her like a plug into an electrical outlet. Katie’s butt jutted and spread out behind her so much that I hadn’t even reached the broken bench yet; I had my palms cupped and was trying to lift her cheek fat up to create enough space to push my arms further under her, simultaneously lifting and sliding forward, inch by inch, in an arduous process that might have only been taking seconds but felt more like hours. I could feel that the fabric of Katie’s leggings was getting caught on the tips of my fingers as well, but there was hardly anything that I could do about that either.

“Oh, um, babe?” Katie interrupted hesitantly, craning her neck as best she could to address me, “You’re kinda pulling my pants down a little bit.”

Given the proximity I was now forced into with her lower back, there was no denying that I was already aware of that. Just a sliver of the top of Katie’s crack was visible now, and I could see just how far her exposed lacy red thong plunged into its cavernous depth.

“Uh, just a second,” I told her, not sure how I was supposed to tackle this most recent dilemma. I’d already submerged my hands so far under Katie’s massive ass that I wasn’t going to pull them back out from under her and start from scratch. What else was I supposed to do then, yank her leggings back up with my teeth?

I kept progressively inching my hands under Katie’s colossal posterior until I finally felt like I had a good enough point of leverage. I looked up to the muscular employee who had helped me earlier and the three companions that now flanked him and mouthed a quick “okay”. He nodded and signaled to the other men, then looked back at me and began counting off again.

“One. Two. Three!”

I gripped Katie as best as I could, sinking into the squishiest part of her body and lifting with all of the might that I could muster. Katie tried her best to push herself up and straighten her legs while the four men pulled with the fervor of tug-of-war champions going for an Olympic gold metal. And, remarkably, Katie slowly began to rise. She was grunting furiously; I could tell that she was putting in just as much effort as any one of us.

There was no ignoring Katie’s massive ass now; all of it was pressed against me as I tried my hardest to both lift and push forward at the same time. Her leggings had rode themselves down even further as a result; luckily for me, I was far too preoccupied to actually look downward and take it all in. Katie slowly but surely rose a few more inches. As she finally began to clear contact with the fractured bench, a couple of other servers who were on hand slid it out carefully from under her, surveying the damage and shaking their heads in dismay. The remainder of the restaurant’s patrons were completely zeroed in on the six of us; even with my focus solely centered elsewhere, I could see the wide stares being cast my way, the people wondering if we’d manage to succeed the second time with more than twice as many people put to the task. I swore that I even caught two middle-aged men putting large bills on the table; were they actually placing bets? At any rate, I couldn’t afford to be distracted. Even if we were continuing to make progress, it was slow, arduous progress, and I could already tell that I was running lower on stamina with each passing second.

I could feel my knees trembling; I was almost ready to buckle under the exertion. I hardly even knew how much assistance I was actually providing; I felt as though I sunk so far into Katie’s giving lower girth that I was hardly putting any actual effort into lifting her. I couldn’t have said so through gritted teeth even if I wanted to, but part of me really wished that Courtney’s idea had involved some sort of extra-wide car jack instead of me. Katie was giving it her all; her knees were shaking likely just as much as mine, and I could tell by the subsequent jiggling of her immense thighs.

Another couple of inches… The men in front of Katie were leaned back now, trying to counter her own ridiculous weight with their own. I wondered if they knew just how much weight they were dealing with… nine hundred-twenty plus pounds was no joke, and the four men might not have realized that their combined weight still sharply paled in comparison to her own. I prayed that her slimmer, delicate arms didn’t slip out of their grasp, lest the full brunt of Katie’s impractical obesity be squared solely on me.

The six of us, Katie included, were still giving it our all, but there was a dead stop in progress. Katie was almost at the height that she had been when she was seated earlier, but she wasn’t elevating any further… I could tell that she had reached the limit of her exertion, her oversized, overtaxed legs having put in all the effort that she could muster.

‘C’mon, c’mon,’ I was begging internally. I couldn’t believe that the force of five that we had assembled wasn’t quite enough manpower. What would Katie have done if she was on her own? Just flailed there helplessly until she had starved to death?

~~

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Again, it was Courtney who came up with the solution. Abandoning her shit-eating grin for a moment, she hastily shouted something to two of the other workers who were on the sidelines. They quickly nodded, trotting behind the men who were pulling and wrapped their arms around two of the scrawnier ones, pulling back with all their might like a human belay. To my surprise, it actually worked. With one massive yank, they managed to pull Katie far enough forward that she was in a semi-crouching position. From there, she was able to rise up slowly, still not under her own power but with the now six overexerted men both helping her up and providing some much-needed balance and stability, lest she just tip over in the forward direction and put us back at square one. My complexion having turned a solid shade of red from the blood rushing to my face, I managed one final upward lift in order to help Katie stand fully upright, feeling every bit like I was attempting to raise up the world’s softest, heaviest king-sized waterbed that someone had filled with pudding instead of liquid. When I was finally able to let go of her and drop my arms, they felt as sore as if I’d just been squatting twice my own weight in the gym for the past hour. With my track meet only a few days away, I found myself silently grateful that I was a runner and not a javelin thrower…

Katie’s astonishing ass cheeks, no longer held up by my weary arms, succumbed to gravity and plopped down heavily to about mid-thigh, pulling the top of her leggings farther down with it. Her lightly tanned fleshed jiggled for a few moments like jello, which was exactly how my muscles felt as well.

But thank God… Katie was up on her feet again. She was red-faced in both embarrassment and exertion, panting heavily and sweating lightly, trying to gain some semblance of balance on her comparatively tiny, dainty feet. She was slouching over slightly from exhaustion, chin boring into her prominent bosom as she struggled to regain her composure. If only to add to unconsciously add to the embarrassment, several of the restaurant patrons were cheering, clapping politely and letting out loud whoops in near-adulation. The restaurant workers were spent, but enthusiastic as well; the four who had provided aid were fist-bumping each other and receiving pats on the back from one another, either oblivious to Katie’s public humiliation or not quite caring.

Katie, officially destroyed for the evening as far as her self-esteem was concerned, looked every bit like she wanted to leave. Indeed, as I walked up into her periphery, tired arms dangling uselessly at my sides, she turned her head to me and spoke to me in a quiet, exasperated whimper.

“Let’s umm,” she stuttered, “we should just go now…”

I forced my most supportive smile and nodded, eager to leave as well, at least so I could finally see this awkward night reach its conclusion. Katie, on her tired, over encumbered legs, began her ungainly, impeded shuffle in the direction of the exit, refusing eye contact with anyone else after that point, including me. I made to follow in the wake of her undulating backside when the far slimmer Courtney strode up to me and stopped me in my tired tracks.

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of the uh, damages,” she spoke with a wry smile, Katie clearly preoccupied with her uncomfortableness and glacially waddling out of earshot, “but here’s my personal cell phone number in case we need to get in contact with you.”

Clever, Courtney. Clever.

I did my best to act like I wasn’t overwhelmed and worn out from the whole ordeal of bringing my date into a standing position and raised my hand to Courtney’s outstretched one so that I could take from her the sheet of paper that she was so furtively eager to hand to me. I nodded and slipped it into my pocket, letting out a weak chuckle and a nod of appreciation. Courtney winked and patted me lightly on the shoulder, turning around for a quick glance to see if Katie was looking back to see the two of us interacting. Of course, she wasn’t; she was singularly preoccupied with getting out and away from Fujiyama’s as quickly as possible, away from the still-prying eyes and the hushed whispers that were, without a doubt, centered around her inhumanly plush posterior.

She was so set on creating as much distance between herself and Fujiyama’s at this point that she had neglected to attempt to pull her pants back up, much to her detriment. As she slowly plodded away, even more exhausted than when she waddled in, the tops of her rolling, roiling ass cheeks fighting to escape from her pinstriped leggings which, I finally noticed, were actually very tight on her. The way she was slowly, progressively starting to ooze out of them gave me the impression that her outfit was actually restricting her lower half from expanding to its true size; Katie was probably even wider with her pants off. Not that I planned on finding that out for myself, at any rate.

In all of Katie’s “haste”, if one could call it that, she’d neglected to retrieve her hoodie from our table. I scooped it up, along with my jacket, and turned back to Courtney and the workers, most of which had milled back into their routines or returned to the kitchen. Courtney was still standing there, eyes rolling and holding back giggles like she had just witnessed a circus act. She sauntered up to me one last time,

“Your arms must be pretty tired after all that,” she purred, licking her lips as she ran her fingers down my biceps. “I happen to know a really good masseuse,” she offered. “In fact,” her voice dropped a bit lower in volume, “you’re looking at her.”

I immediately felt the blood leave my face and begin to rush to a different area.

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“I, yea, well uh…” I smiled nervously.

“Dave?” I heard Katie call out from behind me. I craned my head to see that she had turned around partially and was struggling rather unsuccessfully to pull her leggings back up. “I really want to go,” she pleaded from across the room. I could understand why; several of the buffet diners were still snickering audibly at her, not yet having returned to their meals. She’d likely be the focus of everyone’s attention until she left the restaurant.

I turned back to Courtney and quickly put my varsity jacket back on, obscuring my muscles from her view. Courtney looked somewhat miffed at being interrupted again, but her grin quickly reformed as she made her goodbye.

“Like I said, just let her down easy, Tiger,” she winked at me and added with a chuckle, “just maybe not literally though.”

I laughed weakly in response and slung Katie’s sweatshirt over my shoulder, not sure how to reply.

“Right,” was all that I managed to eke out. Courtney then took the opportunity to turn around and walk away from me, intentionally giving me one last look at her sultry sashay before I myself turned around to follow in the wake of my “blind date’s” quaking, undulating backside. She faced the same problems trying to make a speedy exit as she had plodding on in; several of the chairs and tables were positioned too closely together for her to easily circumnavigate. I jogged up to provide assistance as best as I could, pushing chairs in or even moving a table or two aside so that Katie could make her way to the restaurant double doors with minimal obstacles. She, of course, had difficulties with the doors as well; I had to hold one for her while she held the other and wisely turned her body so she could scoot through them sideways, lest her hips get caught on the doorframe again.

Once we were back outside, in the cool night air, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was so embarrassing,” she muttered, eyes glued to the sidewalk. “Everyone was laughing at me…”

As eager as I was to turn tail and run back to my car, I did still feel a great deal of sympathy for her.

“Hey, no they weren’t,” I blatantly lied. I handed her her sweatshirt back. “Here, its cold. We should probably just head back to our cars.”

Katie looked up at me with the softest, sweetest most gorgeous doe eyes I’d ever seen, her lips forming into a delicate pout.

“W-we don’t have to,” she said to me. “I didn’t mean to cut the whole night short.” She let out a sigh of frustration. “God, I feel like I always ruin everything.”

“No, of course you don’t,” I put on my biggest smile. “I just uh, should probably get to bed soon, that’s all.”

Katie’s brow furrowed a bit as she reached into her hoodie pocket to glance at her phone.

“But its only a little past seven…” she stated. She put her phone away and lightly tussled her hair. “I mean,” she looked back up at me, eyes boring into mine, “I know this really great ice cream place a few blocks away!” she offered, finally beginning to smile again slightly, although the pleading look of mild desperation was still in her eyes. “I go there all the time and the owners know me really well, so I always get discounts and,” she looked off to the side nervously, “they always keep a special seat open for me.”

I gulped, thinking of any excuse to turn Katie down without hurting her feelings any more than they’d already likely been shattered inside Fujiyama’s. ‘Just say no, Dave. Say no. Make up a cat that you have to go home and feed or a freaking plant that you have to water, anything…’ But, of course, it was the look in Katie’s soft but piercing green eyes… It was so hard not to instantly fall for her every time I didn’t have to look downward, even with my left hand in my pocket still clutching the sheet of paper that “Sakura” had written her number down on.

“It’ll be fun,” Katie iterated, smiling wider, her confidence seemingly gradually coming back to her, “I promise. They have this really great chocolate crumble ice cream cake with white fudge, I usually just get one for myself but, umm, I’d let you have some.” She appeared to mull that last sentence over in her mind for just a moment. “Or we could just get two,” she adjusted her offer.

And there was the attraction right out the window again. My feelings for this girl had really been seesawing up and down all night. After that entire fiasco at the buffet, did she actually just casually admit to me that she regularly ate an entire ice cream cake all by herself? There was hardly any part of me that wanted to bear even more witness to Katie’s damn near insatiable appetite, but the girl had obviously been having a rough night and part of me knew that any more rejection, no matter how soft, would only make it even worse.

I sighed. Whether or not Katie noticed it, I wasn’t quite sure, but either way, I was already reasoning with myself that I supposed it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I tried to make Katie feel just a little bit better about herself after such a tumultuously awkward experience. If anything, it would send some good karma my way when I finally got home and dialed Courtney’s number.

“Sure,” I relented, “what’s the address?”

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1 hour ago, Heisenberg4life said:

How does Katie win him over???

 

Thats a good question.

I have to admit this is a good story. Katie is a very lovable character despite weighing close to a ton. The MC is one of the biggest jerks Ive ever read about but he is also easy to sympathize with. Hes stuck on a date with a woman whom he did not know is morbidly obese. That must have been quite a large counter in that restaurant to cover all of that up. The thing is that hes hugely into fitness and all of her weight disgusts him. Im sure that most of us reading this would have had an erection as we lifted, or attempted, to lift her up from breaking that bench in half. This man has spent all of this time looking at her in disgust. Im not sure how she will win him over if that is even possible. At this point Im almost hoping for her to find someone else and kick this man to the curb. Thankfully shes dreadfully oblivious as to how much he doesnt like her.

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I mean, the guy is such an hypocrite I just wish this all blow up in his face at some point. If that can be an empowering moment for Katie I will be even happier. But I must confess I am in love with the angle of writing a FA story from a non-FA standpoint. It's really special, and having MC lust over Courtney creates some nice contrast.

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Katie’s face lit up into a wide, beaming smile.

“Well, its really close,” she explained, “so you can just drive behind me.” She paused for a moment, examining my face for a moment. “Or, better yet, you probably shouldn’t drive. Those foreign beers must be really strong,” she surmised. “Your complexion is pretty red, dude.”

I nodded, not having the heart to tell her that my face was hardly ruddy from being tipsy as opposed to it being from having had to lift almost a half-ton off of the floor with my bare hands, four other men assisting me or not.

“Good point,” I weakly feigned acquiescence.

“You can ride with me and I’ll drop you right back here when you sober up.” She pulled her phone back out of her pocket. “I’ll just, um, text my driver to pull the car up.”

I raised an eyebrow. Katie had her own personal driver? It made sense; I had no idea what kind of car Katie could have possibly drove, custom or otherwise, and I know for a fact that she hadn’t walked to Fujiyama’s, if her highly ineffective gait and surprising quickness to exhaustion were any indication. What I wondered even more though was whether or not Katie’s chauffeur was a flaunting of her own personal wealth or an inconvenient expense born out of sheer necessity. Just how rich was the Iaccone family? She’d said earlier that her parents had left her a very big house before retiring relatively early… I could only assume that it had to be pretty large if she could move about it unencumbered. I wondered if Katie’s bedroom was on the first or second floor… She clearly didn’t seem like she could handle a flight of stairs.

I had to hold back a smirk when the car that she rode in finally pulled up at the curb in front of us.

It was a large black delivery van, one of the kinds that restaurants and convenience stores used for their bulk weekly shipments, and it was obvious where, on the side of the van, the Finoli’s logo had been crudely painted over.

Katie began to waddle toward the double doors in the back while the driver’s side door popped open. A middle-aged man, actually dressed quite professionally, hopped his way out and straightened up his uniform, a light novel in one hand that he laid down on the seat before making his way towards the back as well. He did take a moment to pause and greet me with a courteous nod before turning to address his passenger, his voice dull and disinterested, but his tone undoubtedly servile.

“Will you be requiring the usual assistance, Miss Iaccone?” So he was an actual driver. With his pressed suit and forcibly straightened posture, he looked like he would have been more at home stepping out of a lavish limousine than an ostensible moving van.

Katie, whose out-of-breath response I was sure the man had to be accustomed to by now, smiled and paused to try and pull up her hopeless leggings again while rotating in place a bit to notion over to me.

“Oh, well, Davie’s been really helpful all night, actually. I think I’m good, Ricky,” she turned to me. “Babe, do you think you could help me again?” Katie asked me with her soft smile. “I just need a little push.”

“I, uh, sure,” I agreed reluctantly. The driver, whose name I had already forgotten, gave me a forced smile and another curt nod before about-facing and returning to his post, novel already back in hand before he had even closed the driver side door.

Making sure that Katie couldn’t see it, I gulped again. Was I really going to have to make contact with her massive, wobbling ass again after I had just practically had my face in it less than ten minutes ago? This girl needed so much help just to get around… and now that she had begun to feel more comfortable designating me to be the one to assist her, I found that the sympathy that I had once had for her predicament was beginning to wear thin.

Katie needed a few more seconds to plod up to the van doors, leaning on them for support while she took a moment to catch her breath.

“Just… give me… one second,” she huffed, smiling weakly. It seemed like she still hadn’t fully regained all of the stamina that she had spent during the earlier fiasco of lifting herself up off of the ground and walking all of twenty yards to the restaurant exit, even though she had had plenty of assistance with both.

The position that she was standing in, leaning slightly forward with her belly sagging down in front of her and her butt jutting out behind her, really brought to light how far her insanely proportioned ass cheeks protruded out behind her. Having still, despite all of her previous struggles, not managed to pull her pants all the way up to an acceptable height, the top rim of her leggings cut deeply into her squishy, giving butt blubber, giving her a sort of “double butt” that resulted in an oozing, jiggling shelf that I could have eaten a whole Thanksgiving dinner off of, with her red thong serving as a wholly insufficient tablecloth. The part of her ineffably rotund rear that was contained by her leggings was stretching the overloaded item of clothing out even further in her position, her impossibly bulging booty looking like it was due to burst free if Katie so much as slipped another calorie down her throat. Indeed, with a clear and still side view of my date, still cacophonously recuperating with her loud, deep, exasperated breaths, I could see that the seams running along the widest, most burgeoning part of Katie’s hips were already beginning to give way, although the stitching of the fabric was holding fast for the time being. I wondered why she hadn’t just chosen a bigger pair of pants, if such an article of clothing even existed on this earth. I was sure that the pair had been adequate for her up until this point; Katie had also said earlier that she had been gaining a lot of weight recently, and having witnessed her appetite firsthand, I certainly wasn’t inclined to doubt her.

All in all, her white and black pinstriped leggings might have done some job restraining her surprisingly smooth but lardy lower half from reaching its maximum volume, but I could only wonder for how long. The vertical stripes running down her enormous legs certainly weren’t slimming; on the contrary, the lines widened dramatically as they ran up her  thunder thighs, stretched wide and distorted in the various places where Katie’s legs and ass were most egregiously afflicted by adipose.

Whether it be the chill of the evening breeze drifting across the exposed top of her butt or my unabashed staring, Katie seemed to take notice of how much more ill-fitting her attire both looked and felt than when the night had begun.

“Oh, baby, do you think you could help me with my pants now? Just… yank on them really hard.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, I truly did, but I resisted. instead, I approached Katie from behind as she pushed herself up off the back of her personal van in order to straighten up a bit. She still had one hand placed on it for balance as she instructed me further.

“Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll shimmy a little bit.”

“Okay…” I answered weakly. I had to bend forward in order to reach the hem of her leggings; even then, I still had to press into the farthest protruding part of her ass so that I could reach far enough. That meant all of her callipygous corpulence was pressed right up against my crotch, a soft, squishing sensation that I had a difficult time ignoring.

As I tried to get a firm grip around the tops of the poorly proportioned pinstriped pants, my knuckles pressed into Katie’s mushy behind, eliciting a giggle from her.

“That’s cold!” she squirmed, her entire lower half jiggling in response to her movements, save for the section that was pressed into me. “But, try to go a little wider, okay?” She was referring to the positioning of my hands. I had placed them about a foot apart from each other; Katie wanted me to position each hand so that it was more centered in the middle of each wondrously wide ass cheek, which meant that I was going to have to press into her even further in order to reach.

I gulped for a third time, then tried to inch myself even further into the wall of flab and flesh that she dragged behind her wherever she went. It wasn’t all that easy; Katie’s butt might have been soft and yielding, but it still only had so much give without me really pushing my torso into her, which I was certainly not apt to do.

As the contact between my lower body and hers increased, Katie let out a low, almost swooning sigh. I didn’t want to think about how she was likely enjoying this,; Katie’s fretful longing for romance likely came with a longing for physical intimacy as well. My washboard stomach, sturdy but toned thighs and everything in between was sinking into into the cavernous depth of her fat, a pleasurable experience for her but a living nightmare for me.

“Okay, that’s good!” Katie stopped me when she felt I had stretched my arms wide enough to get into a workable position. “It feels really nice, actually,” she added, a bit more seductively. I grimaced, happy that Katie was turned around and couldn’t see the uncomfortable look on my face.

“Okay, I’m ready,” was the only response I could muster, and, although she couldn’t see me, I could see her expression turn to one of subtle disappointment.

“O-okay,” she replied dejectedly, finally taking her other hand off of the car and gripping her leggings as well, placing them at either side in preparation to begin heaving her pants up. “Okay…” she gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, clearly less than eager to have to exert herself again so soon. “Pull!”

I did my best to try and pull her leggings up and over the exposed part of Katie’s behind while she pulled up from the sides, attempting to wriggle the confining clothing up her caboose by swishing side to side, shifting her immense weight between her two feet as she grunted audibly. Even these slight but rapid wiggles caused her sea of rippling adipose to start jiggling out of control, sending tremulous waves of flesh wobbling violently out of control… and into me. I had to brace myself against her roiling hindquarters, lest I be knocked over onto the gravel.

As with everything physical that Katie tried to do, progress was slow and cumbersome. Her pants were barely inching upward, clearly unwilling to fully encompass the rotundity of her rump. She was grunting and groaning loudly enough to be heard across the parking lot, struggling with considerable effort although I was sure that even these minute movements were driving her back to the point of exhaustion.

“Okay, okay…” she finally relented after a few more moments of struggling. The heavy, overwhelmed breathing that I had grown accustomed to had returned in full force. She was practically wheezing now, though she tried to speak through it as though nothing was wrong. “I guess… I guess that’s good enough.”

Honestly… it really wasn’t. I had barely made any progress in the back, managing to cover maybe about an inch and a half more of Katie’s canyon of a plumber’s crack by the time she had declared herself sufficiently covered. It was likely a lie on Katie’s part; she had just run out of energy and willpower  to keep struggling, as was evident by the way she had returned to leaning against the van doors and, despite the climbing chill of the March evening air, the fact that she was beginning to perspire moderately.

“Uh, sure,” I pretended to agree, more because I wanted more than anything to minimize the contact between my muscular body and Katie’s contrastingly corpulent ass. As I moved away from her, her butt allowed itself to push outward into the space that I was no longer occupying, taking with it her leggings, of course, and undoing the majority of the progress that we had just made; about three fourths of what Katie had previously had exposed remained as such. I could only guess from her ragged, haggard breathing that we weren’t going to continue any further, though.

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“Just… leave it for now,” Katie managed to choke out in between breaths. She turned her attention to the doors and resumed leaning against them, closing her eyes as if she was silently wishing for the exhaustion to go away.

After a few more precious seconds of recuperation, she gripped the van doors’ handles and pulled them open.

I was surprised; the interior of the van was not like I had expected it to be. It was clearly designed to look not like a storage space but the inside of a coach or carriage; there was light velvet carpeting along the floor and walls, lighting emanating from the ceiling, a sturdy looking steel bar along the left side of the van and a plush, pleather couch of matching dark pink color built onto the right. It had a sort of Eighties chic to it…

A small metal step unfurled from the bottom and Katie took an ungainly step backward to make space for it.

“Okay,” she put her hands on her extra-wide hips and deeply exhaled, puffing her cheeks out as she did so. “Umm, you might have figured this out already, but I’m not really built for stairs,” she gave her leggings one final, ineffective tug. “I just need a little push, if you don’t mind,” she giggled awkwardly.

Of course I minded… But Katie had already turned around before I could voice any protest and had begun the arduous task of raising her right leg up to position it on the metal foldout.

The step might have been just a tad higher than what one might find scaling a conventional staircase, but it was only about a quarter of a foot off of the ground. Katie still had to put her all into raising her enormous calve high enough to place her foot on it. Another obnoxiously loud grunt, another ungainly heave, and Katie managed to take her first step into her own car, her thighs swishing obtrusively as they slushed past each other.

Even before she had transitioned her full weight onto the step, the entire back end of the van dipped. It must have had some ungodly suspension… Katie leaned forward, using the van doors for support as she prepared herself to actually lift her near half-ton body off of the gravel.

Did she really need my aid for something as simple as this? Like I had surmised earlier, there had to be at least some musculature buried beneath her plethora of pudge somewhere, but it looked like all that it was good for was keeping Katie strong enough to lug her gargantuan girth around so long as there was no elevation or incline in sight. I was now pretty sure now that there was no way, no matter how big her house was, that Katie ever made it up to the second floor in her own home.

Standing directly behind her, I could see that with her right leg propped up, her bountiful butt cheeks were no longer level with each other, the left still sagging heavily over its corresponding pillar of lard but supported a bit better by her straightened leg, creasing heavily where it began its descent down to about mid-thigh. The right side of her appallingly ample ass had no such support anymore; it flopped both backward and downward, held up insufficiently only by the restrictiveness of her stretched-out slacks, and pulling the top of those tired, tested trousers down with it, which meant that the right side of her ass was just as poorly covered as before.

“Alright,” Katie instructed, now that she was finally in her strained position, “I just need you give me a really,” she grunted, “strong push, okay?”

Not really looking forward to having to sink my hands back into all of that back fat, I tried to feign ignorance in order to stall for just a little bit of time.

“Er, push from where?” I asked, dreading the inevitable answer.

“From, um, the same place as last time,” Katie tried to explain. “When I… “fell over” inside the restaurant. Like, try to lift me up a little bit, you know?”

Oh, at this point in the evening, I knew quite a bit more than I wanted to.

I blanched, closing the distance between myself and Katie’s dynamic derriere. Having an idea of where to place my hands, even though I knew that I didn’t actually want to, I reached over to Katie and pressed into her beyond beach ball sized cheeks, sinking once again into the billowing, bulging back fat of her obese lower body well past my wrists.

“Ouch!” she squealed. “Careful…”

“Uh, sorry,” I muttered, although I hardly felt as though I could be blamed. It wasn’t like I’d ever had to push a super morbidly obese girl up a flight of stairs before, even if there were only two of them.

“Just do it like you did before,” Katie reiterated, somewhat irritatedly this time. Her tone struck somewhat of a nerve, I had to admit… Was she the one losing patience with me?! After everything that I had been completely reticent in having to put up with so far?

“Okay, okay,” I conceded. “My bad…”

“No, I-“ Katie stammered, pausing to let her breath out in a long sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m just really tired from standing so much. My legs feel like they’re turning into jell-o…” she muttered under her breath.

She had no idea how accurate that comparison was…

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Removing my buried hands from the depths of Katie’s wobbling flesh, I watched as her now less-supported butt expanded back to its previous profound proportions, pressing heavily against my chest as I once again braced myself in a semi-squat and reached under her bulging behind like my arms were some sort of crane. At this point, the center of Katie’s large, jiggling lower half was almost completely enveloping the sleeker, firm upper half of my body, with me feeling buried in her soft, pliable pudge all the way past my clavicle. I had to bend my neck backwards and stare straight up at the sky in order to avoid sinking my face into her cheeks. From this awkward position, I tried to resume standing upright, straightening out my legs raising my palms and forearms up, doing my damnedest to lift as much of Katie’s ungainly, undulating ass up with me as possible.

Holy Hell… I was not fully braced for this…

For something so soft, so plush, so malleable, Katie’s butt was incredibly heavy. All I was doing was essentially lifting it a few inches higher than it normally rested, and even that was an olympian task in and of itself that had my lower back practically screaming for mercy. Granted, Katie’s ass was surprisingly perky for its size, still somewhat buoyant despite its ineffable volume and sticking more so outward than it drooped downward, but the billowing, bulging bulk that did succumb to the forces of gravity were cascading over my upper arms and pressing heavily enough into my ribcage that I could hardly breathe. It put Katie’s constant, exhausted waddle into a new perspective. She was dragging a wagon that had to weigh as much as an actual wagon… Well, sure, that was likely an exaggeration, but knowing that Katie had to lug around such heinously hefty hindquarters behind her wherever she went sort of illustrated to me how much work she had to put in just to achieve the glacially slow, plodding pace that I had been forced to familiarize myself with. Add to that her impractically, ineffectively bloated thighs and calves that must have been as thick as Christmas hams and it was no wonder that the poor half-porker was so out of breath any time she had to do anything remotely physical.

“Yea, that works a lot better,” Katie cooed, having not noticed the intense struggle going on directly behind her, directly because of her. She was grinning cheekily, turning her head to view me from the corner of her eye again. “Boy, you’re certainly getting a handful today, aren’t you?”

“Lucky me,” I grunted. Katie giggled in response, clearly not hearing the sarcasm in my tone through my gritted teeth.

“Yea, usually I’d wait for a guy to by me chocolates first,” she joked. She was probably trying to lighten the mood again after her tiny outburst.

“Umm, Katie,” I squeaked out, “if you don’t mind?”

“Oh- oh, right,” she frowned and faced forward, clearing her throat and bending forward slightly. “Okay, I’m ready,” she told me. Good. I wanted to get this over with before I slipped a disc or something.

I pushed forward as she tried her hardest to lift her right leg off of the ground. If I had thought that this was a herculean amount of exertion for me, the chorus of grunts, groans and grimaces emanating from Katie’s mouth indicated that she was hardly faring much better. Had she been somehow facing me, I would have seen that her eyes were closed shut in concentration as she poured all of her willpower and physical strength into putting all of her weight onto her right leg as the left slower, painstakingly left contact with the ground. It was completely different without a team to pull her from the front; with just us, Katie had almost no support from her slim, delicate arms, instead pressing them both deep into the giving flesh of her left upper thigh as she tried to gain enough leverage to haul herself up a single step. From behind, I was pressed so deeply into her ass that, had it actually been made out of jell-o, I would have been worried that I would sink right in and get swallowed up, lost in a sea of fat so large that it needed its own van with specialized seating. Of course, had her overworked leggings actually just been filled with something as light as gelatin as opposed to hundreds of pounds of jiggling, gelatinous flab, we likely wouldn’t be having this dilemma.

Katie managed to raise her foot on the metal foldout and the entire van tipped noticeably backward. I prayed she didn’t tip backward herself; I’m not sure that I would have survived if all of her adipose dropped directly down on top of me. With her now slightly elevated position and my arms again exhausted, I slowly lowered them back down to provide some relief to my strained biceps. Katie’s bulbous butt drooped to its resting position, with her hunching forward perhaps to offset its weight, or perhaps just because climbing the one step had left her completely spent.

“Okay,” she sputtered breathlessly, barely being able to manage more than a whisper, “one more…”

We both took a few seconds to recuperate and I took that precious time to try and stretch my arms out a little bit. Since Katie was a bit higher up now, getting her off of the step and into the van proper was likely going to require a different approach. As Katie began the arduous process of raising her right leg this time, arms pressing against the roof of the van for balance, I watched as her shirt rode up a few good inches, finally settling itself right around where her waist so drastically tapered inward. Her sloping love handles and bulging back fat now fully exposed, I tried my best to avert my eyes while I reassessed Katie’s stair situation.

“I’m…. I’m ready,” Katie called back to me in barely more than a rasp, although she hardly seemed that way. Her chest was heaving up and down as she fought to regain her composure, beads of light sweat causing her admittedly still spectacular long hair to stick to the sides of her forehead.

“Hold on,” I answered back, formulating an idea.

“I… huff… I can’t,” Katie pleaded, so close to her destination but still so far. She lowered one arm, still keeping her precarious balance with the other, to try to wipe some of the sweat pooling on her brow and brush her hair back out of her eyes.

“Alright…” I muttered.

I got down on one knee and scooched myself directly under Katie’s mammoth ass, completely engulfed by its shadow. I quickly turned around so that I was facing away from her. This time, I was going to try to support her weight with my shoulders, pushing upward from underneath her with all my strength like I was Tom Holland’s character trying to hold up that fallen rubble in the Spiderman movie. What I would have given for my own form of super-strength at that moment… I spread both of my arms wide, palming the opposite undersides of her butt while her squishy center and enormous thighs poured onto and over my upper back and shoulders. Even with my arms completely outstretched, I still just barely missed being able to reach far enough to fully encompass the seat of her pants, my fingertips falling short by a good few inches.

“Okay,” I said, sinking into her flesh once more. “Ready!”

I tried to launch myself upward, arms spread wide as I pushed myself backward in an attempt to give her the support she needed for the second half of our struggle. Even though I could hear her grunting again, she felt like she had hardly budged. I was only pushing myself deeper and deeper into her expansive ass, this time worried that my head was actually going to get swallowed up by her crack if if my cranium accidentally burst a hole through her leggings.

I could only surmise that this was what Atlas must have felt like holding up the entire world, if the world had been made out of pudding. Getting off of one knee and pushing up with both of my legs, I could feel her slowly rising as she strained to lift herself up from her end. I was starting to wonder if this had been the best approach after all… Even facing the other way, Katie’s ass was plush and giving enough that it was dangerously close to my face; had I done this facing towards her, she likely would have been suffocating me with the tops of her thighs. Her gargantuan glutes were creeping over the sides of my skull like yielding, dimpled earmuffs, momentarily cutting off the sounds of her grunting and wheezing as finally, finally, I thought I could feel her begin to make progress in taking her final, well, second step. She lurched herself onto the van at long last, taking a few teetering steps so as to not fall forward while I myself fell backward onto the metal foldout with an audible thud that sent a jolt through my tailbone and up my lumbar. Finally relieved of my nine hundred plus pound burden, I rubbed my lower back with a well-deserved grimace. Behind me, Katie began pivoting to the side, leaning forward heavily and practically falling onto the support bar running the length of the van’s left side, breathing exhaustedly as her ass prolific posterior protruded far enough to hover barely a foot away from the long bench that ran most of the length of the right. As I got up from the rather uncomfortable step, checking to see how badly my hair had been mussed up, the look that I gave Katie was one of bewilderment and depletion, having even started to sweat lightly myself.

Katie was panting like a dog, fanning herself lightly with one hand while the other gripped her support bar for dear life. I could see her one arm trembling…. In fact, I could see her knees wobbling, her exceedingly chunky thighs jiggling along with them even though she had otherwise stopped moving.

“God,” she complained, looking over to me, “that is such… a workout for me…”

Even as exasperated as I was, I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

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“What?” Katie said, adjusting her slightly disheveled hair with one hand while the other continued to hold her steady. “We can’t all be marathon runners,” she breathily teased. “Some of us are a little more… endowed.” She winked at me, patting the top of her jutting hip and letting out a big sigh.

I was a sprinter, not an endurance runner, but that was beside the point. It didn’t take an athlete to walk up two steps, no matter if they were spaced apart higher than usual or not.

“Well,” she smiled, chest still heaving up and down, “Hurry up and get in! Oh, and you have to raise the step back up behind you.”

I returned the step to its folded position without getting on first, pulling the double doors closer back together and merely climbing my way inside with one outstretched leg.

“Or that,” Katie let out a breathy chuckle. “Showoff.”

The interior of the van actually smelled rather nice, like whatever perfume Katie wore or whichever shampoo she put in her dazzlingly shiny albeit now slightly messy hair, as opposed to the smell of food which, for some reason, I was sort of expecting. This really was her personal ride; she likely used it to get around to most places, including work in the morning. I closed the doors behind us, a demure click indicating that they had fully shut and locked into place.

Katie looked at me from her near-stranded position, leaning against the metal bar supporting her size and gestured to the much more comfortable looking, much more sturdy (I assumed) bench positioned on the wall behind her.

“Umm, I don’t think the seat’s big enough for both of us,” she admitted, red in the face. Whether it was from embarrassment or overexertion, I couldn’t be quite sure. “But you can take a seat first, in the middle,” she suggested, “and that way we can share it.”

She meant that she wanted to sit on my lap…

Of course, that was a definite “no” from me, at least internally. I had already had enough close quarters contact with those massive mounds of meat she called an endowment to last several lifetimes.

I recollected on the experiences that she had just had all of about twenty minutes ago, about her asking me if her clearly oversized ass was exactly that, about me denying so up and down even though I knew that I was blatantly lying in order to protect her feelings… I knew that I couldn’t protest now, even though I honestly wouldn’t have minded standing for the duration of the drive, as bent out of shape as my knees were at this point in the evening. And to believe that I had a track meet in a couple of days…

It seemed like, through everything that she had put me through, through all of the shocked reactions she had endured from my end, Katie was still somehow under the very false impression that I found her proportions attractive. Well… maybe it partially had to do with me continuously assuring her that I was, even if the primary focus of that had only been to spare her self-esteem. Or maybe it was a lie she was focused on buying into herself, clearly wanting to believe that she had finally found an attractive guy who found her arousing despite her deplorably distorted shape.

Either way, there was no backing out now. I smiled weakly, with her giggling at me in response as I carefully circumnavigated Katie’s prodigious posterior in order to take a seat directly behind her, not wanting to make any more physical contact with her calamitous, colossal caboose, even though I knew now that it was beyond avoidance. She took up enough space in the van, even when sideways, that it was easier to just plonk myself down on the end of the bench and then slide myself down its length until I was primly positioned right where the center of my lap would have lined up with hers.

‘Please don’t crush me, please don’t crush me…’ I thought to myself, making sure not to voice my trepidation aloud this time.

“I can see the look on your face, dude,” Katie laughed, craning her head around as best she could to catch me eyes wide, mouth shut. “I’m not going to crush you,” she ensured me. It was almost as if she had actually read my mind on that one… although, I’m sure if she had, then, by now, she would have waddled off in tears over what I had been really thinking all night. “I’m really soft, I promise.” Oh yea, I think that I knew that much by now. “And super curvy, just like you like,” she added, licking her lips.

I hardly had a word to say. My eyes were glued to her “curves” wondering if the last sensation I would ever experience in life was a girl who had to weigh around five times as much as me plonking herself down onto my pelvis. The girl in question only sighed sweetly, her alluring green eyes staring back at me with a look that was a mixture of both longing and lust.

“Still speechless, huh baby?” Katie cooed, straightening her posture and giving her grossly mismatched behind a smack with both hands that I supposed she might have thought was seductive. Her entire lumbering lower half jiggled for a couple of seconds in response in a turbulent sort of way that, sexy or not, was simply mesmerizing to watch.

“You like that?” Katie asked rhetorically in a way that was as sensual as possible though she was still audibly struggling to get her breathing back under control, having clearly misinterpreted my wide-eyed fixation. “Cuz you’re about to get a whole lot more…” I’d most certainly had enough, but this was obviously a very intimate moment for Katie, one that she must have been looking forward to all night. It was likely the ulterior motive that she had had for insisting that I ride with her, a chance to snuggle up closer to me in a more private setting. “I haven’t found a guy who wanted to cuddle with me in a really long time,” she confessed, bashfully.

And she hadn’t found one tonight, either. Nonetheless, in the name of keeping up my ruse, I forced a weak smile and patted my thigh, indicating for her to take her seat.

“Okay!” Katie giggled again. “Here I come!” She took a few awkward teetering steps backward so that she was poised over the entirety of the plush, velvet “car seat” I was soon to be pinned to.

I would have hoped that Katie would have at least had the courtesy to lower herself onto my lap gently, but, as was the case in Fujiyama’s she didn’t exactly seem capable of performing such a simple maneuver if she wanted to. As I braced myself one more time, Katie let out a sigh of relief to finally be getting off of her feet as she breathlessly allowed herself to plummet backward carelessly, bringing down on me all at once the billowing, bizarre, bombastic weight of nearly eight separate girls her height.

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  • 3 weeks later...

I felt the majority of the air escape from my lungs as all of Katie’s immense weight impacted me at once. There was a sonorous, sickening plop as all of her weight impacted my torso, her “softness” sagging over and around me and engulfing me completely up to my sternum. I had to lift my arms up out of the way lest they be completely pinned down onto the bench like the rest of me now was. As Katie settled on top of me, instead of being outright flattened like I had feared that I would be, I could feel her mass pressing me into the mercifully plush, cushioned bench below us while the seat of her wide, wide ass spread itself not on but around me to either side. I had lucked out; I was spared the full brunt of over nine hundred pounds of Katie’s corpulence by the simple fact that she was just far too wide to concentrate all of it directly on top of me.

Not that I still didn’t feel overwhelmed; I was completely sandwiched between two albeit incredibly soft surfaces, some sort of cruel play on the “trapped between a rock and a hard place” metaphor. I was having slight difficulty breathing, and I was positive that, by the time Katie eventually stood back up, both of my legs would be numb. I was lucky that I hadn’t really eaten anything at the restaurant; the combined pressure and proximity of Katie’s butt on top of my stomach would have likely prevented me from keeping anything down.

“Comfortable, babe?” Katie had the gall to ask me. The truth was, I wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as I had expected to be. It was like having an extraordinarily heavy pillow placed on top of me; before she sat down, I had wisely stretched both of my feet out so that her weight wasn’t pushing down on my knees, but rather onto the bench, with me just being caught unfortunately in between. That might not have made having Katie in my lap likable, but it was bearable.

I did my best not to sound too much like I was grunting when I responded, although my lungs felt almost as constricted as my groin felt compressed.

“I… yea, I- of course I am,” I half-lied. “You too?”

“Yup!” Katie giggled, blushing. “Umm,” she paused, “I am still a little hungry though…” she admitted. “You think we could stop at, like, the McDonalds drive-thru super quick? It’s only a little bit out of the way.”

I shuddered. I somehow was and wasn’t surprised to hear that Katie hadn’t satisfied her appetite yet. Despite how much she had already dined on at Fujiyama’s, I recalled that about half of her third sushi tray had gone uneaten by the time that her little “mishap” had rolled around. But weren’t we already headed to another food spot? I guess, in her mind, cake and ice cream counted as dessert and she technically hadn’t finished dinner yet.

“It’ll be really quick, I promise,” Katie assured me before shifted her weight a little bit. With a bulky lurch to her left and then to her right, she spread her feet out a bit further to make more space for the insides of her thighs, which were pressing heavily against each other almost all the way down to what could be described as her knees. I knew that she had already made up her mind; she was pulling out her phone from her hoodie pocket and sending a quick text to who was likely her driver up front while I muttered a weak, unsure “okay”.

Sure enough, after a few more moments, the van spurred to life and I could feel us begin to putter off, Katie’s lower body jiggling jollily with every bump and crack we drove over as the car’s herculean suspension held up to the task of carrying its heavy cargo.

Watching Katie’s bubble butt in constant motion in response to every little jerk and twitch of the van on the road was just as fascinating as watching it shimmy when she attempted to waddle. It was quivering and quaking every which way like a waterbed on a roller coaster and, pressed into me the way it was, I could feel the tremors rippling into my body.

“You can, ya know, wrap your arms around me if you want,” she offered once she had put her phone back in her pocket.

The thing was, I actually couldn’t. Katie’s butt stuck out far enough behind her, especially when seated, that I when I obliged and tried to reach as far as I could forward, I could just about grip her slimmer upper sides. Doing so required me reaching upward though, because of how elevated Katie was, propped up by her own burgeoning butt. Despite being about half a foot shorter than me standing, Katie was noticeably taller than me seated; that height difference was exaggerated even more when she was planted on top of me. I didn’t really feel comfortable holding my arms up for that long, so my fingers slid down her sides until my forearms came to rest on her flabby flanks, palms tentatively laying flat on her bulging love handles.

Katie purred as my fingers ran down her sides.

“That feels really nice,” she cooed, thinking that the prolonged contact was a more sensual act than it really was. In truth, I was just finding the least awkward position to rest my arms.

As the van stopped momentarily, likely just pausing for a red light, Katie reached down to just above her hips to interlace her fingers with my own, her hands on top of mine.

“If you can’t reach all the way around, then no worries,” Katie said demurely, her voice taking a tone that was just as soft, but a bit more embarrassed, “I guess I try to forget sometimes that there’s um, a lot going on back there.” She punctuated that last remark with a nervous chuckle.

I was reminded again that Katie’s haphazardly distributed obesity was the progenitor of her perceived self-esteem issues. Her body certainly prevented her from doing a lot of physical things, but she seemed as though she was capable of toughing the brunt of it out, or adapting at least. What seemed to emotionally slight Katie the most, though, was the way her disproportionate derriere must have affected her personal life. She had said herself that she didn’t get to do things like this often: go on dates, cuddle with boys, get told that she was attractive, and the like. I wondered how much of her clearly rampant and out of control overeating was a side-effect of stress or disappointment; a lot of people turned to comfort eating when they felt romantically frustrated.

“Uh,” I hesitated, “more for me, right?” I didn’t mean it, but I hoped that it would put her at ease.

“Yeah, good point,” Katie giggled, brightening up somewhat. “I guess its true what they say.”

“What do you mean?” I asked for clarification, kind of wishing I could reach into my pocket to get out my phone. I had worn denim jeans that evening and it was a little warm in the back of the van. With so much woman on top of me, I could actually feel my legs starting to sweat and silently hoped that the moisture wouldn’t seep through the casing and short out the hardware; it had happened to me before when I accidentally went jogging with my phone in my sweatpants pocket.

“I mean, like, you’re super fit and everything,” she pointed out, “and I’m…” she shrugged her shoulders up and down in a dramatic, flustered sigh, “I’m… really fat.”

“Hey,” I protested, more settling into the routine of defaulting to denial any time a female friend complained about her weight than actually buying into my own words myself, “you’re not-“

Katie scoffed and chuckled, cutting me off.

“You’re really sweet… I mean, you can lie to me all you want but I can’t lie to myself,” she said gently, kneading my fingers lightly in between hers. “I’m nine hundred forty-five pounds, Davie, it didn’t happen overnight.” She slipped her delicate, manicured hands off from on top of mine and patted the tops of her thighs. “Pregnant manatee, remember?”

“Oh yea, I,” I stammered, “you know I’m still really sorry about that,” My hands migrated from her love handles to rest horizontally flat on the tops of her billowing, jutting hips.

“I know, I know,” Katie sighed again. “I just… have to remind myself to laugh about it every once in a while, that’s all. I just… the manatee thing,” she continued, placing her hands back on top of mine.

“What?” I asked.

“Okay… well, they don’t really make scales for people that size, obviously,” Katie told me, averting her eyes upward. “So last month when I needed to weigh myself for my meetings… I had to, uh, use the scale at SeaWorld. So yea.”

I was glad that I was behind Katie so that she couldn’t see the look of embarrassment on my face. I suddenly understood just how hurtful, how on-the-nose my offhanded insult from earlier really was. I looked downward and gulped, feeling, not for the first time that night, that I was kind of an asshole.

“Wow, I,” I uttered apologetically, “I guess I’m kind of a douche bag.”

Katie giggled softly, shifting her weight in my lap. I did my best to endure it and stifle a grunt, for her sake. My legs were actually sweating now… I deemed it best not to point out the mild discomfort, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward than it already was.

“First of all, dude,” Katie teased me, “I don’t know anyone who uses the term ‘douche bag’ anymore. But I think I have permission to call you an asshole for that one,” she mocked me.

“I accept,” I smiled, genuinely this time.

“Just kidding, though,” she added, still laughing to herself. “Sort of. And anyway, its cool that I get in for free for, like, some bullshit medical reason,” she told me. “Afterwards, I like to go look at the stingrays. They’re my favorite.”

“I feel bad for taking you to a sushi spot, then,” I joked, trying to keep the conversation light. “One of them might have been in one of those California rolls.”

“Stop,” Katie laughed loudly. “They do NOT serve stingrays at sushi buffets.”

“You never know,” I countered, glad that, while Katie’s size might have been a lot to put up with, her being so down to earth and sweet as sugar still made for enjoyable conversation, “I mean, if people are crazy enough to put anchovies on pizza, I’m pretty sure anything’s possible.”

“Wow, hater,” she grinned. “Haven’t you ever heard there’s no such thing as bad pizza?”

“Yea,” I scoffed derisively, “I guess you would know that more than anybody.”

Katie’s smile disappeared and she looked forward cautiously for a moment.

“Wh-what do you mean by that?”

“What, no, I-“ I laughed nervously, realizing that I had just shot myself in the foot again. “No, I just meant that- you know, because you own a pizza place…” I’d honestly meant it that way. I knew enough about Katie’s sensitivity towards her weight at this point that it wasn’t wise to make any unnecessary comments about it, even if they were only in jest.

“Oh,” she responded, not sounding too sure. “Right.” She let out a weak laugh that matched mine in its nervous tone, sighing fidgeting some more with her hair.

“I didn’t even think before I said it,” I tried to save face. “I wasn’t making a joke about your weight, if that’s what you thought.”

Katie sighed, then paused for a reserved but relieved chuckle. She put her hands back down at her sides, looking down and gently squeezing her love handles as if she were thinking about them self-consciously.

“Yea, please don’t,” she finally said softly. “I mean, I know I do all the time, but… its like a coping thing, you know?”

“Uh, right,” I faltered. Katie just rolled her eyes, smiling again.

“Well, I guess you wouldn’t,” she playfully corrected herself. She grazed her fingernails over my hands, still rested on her hips for lack of a better place to be, before lacing her fingers back between mine. “Hey, I was thinking,” she paused to ponder, but only for a moment, “maybe dating a super macho athlete would be a good thing for me. Like, you could help me with my… ‘problem’ a little bit.”

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what she meant. Katie responded to my silence by grunting loudly while she tried to turn her upper body, rotating her shoulders and craning her neck until she could better see my look of confusion out of the corner of her eye.

“Like, maybe I could go jogging with you some time,” she offered, doing her best to make eye contact despite the strained posture she was in.

I tried to grin in approval, a bit caught off guard by the return of her beautiful green eyes to my line of sight. The truth was, sure, I had already planned to see if I could casually bring exactly that up with her from the beginning, but that was back when I had only thought that she was a little on the chubby side. The Katie that I had been cavorting with throughout the night however, with the true extent of her unbelievable obesity revealed… I had no idea how on Heaven or Earth that seemed reasonable.

After seeing what constituted for Katie as walking, I couldn’t even imagine what she would look like trying to do anything that required any actual athleticism. Even her slow, ponderous, lumbering waddle left her out of breath after only a few meters. I could only picture that if she tried to move any faster than that, she wouldn’t manage to make it more than a few feet before collapsing over. And then she would need another team just to pick her back up, same as last time…

Still, I nodded in approval to the idea, a response to which Katie’s grin grew even wider.

“Cool!” she said excitedly. “Just… as long as we go at my pace at first,” she added, as if I couldn’t have figured the necessity of that out for myself.

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On 1/29/2021 at 1:05 PM, SilverPathfinder said:

I mean, the guy is such an hypocrite I just wish this all blow up in his face at some point. If that can be an empowering moment for Katie I will be even happier. But I must confess I am in love with the angle of writing a FA story from a non-FA standpoint. It's really special, and having MC lust over Courtney creates some nice contrast.

Yes, its definitely been way more fun (and way more challenging lol) to write the story from this perspective. And I felt like it was a welcome change of pace from the typical types of stories that find their way into this genre. Also, I've never been a fan of "lawful good" protagonists, I feel like its just a lot harder to give them more realistic personalities but, hey, that's just me :) 

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The van had slowed down to a crawling pace and I could feel that we were very slowly going around a sharp curve; we were likely in the drive-thru, the driver pulling up to the window to pick up whatever order Katie had texted him a few minutes ago.

“Oh, I think we’re here,” I told Katie, trying to change the subject with the one thing that I knew was bound to distract her.

Katie’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she turned back around. The last thing I saw in her entrancing light emerald eyes was a spark of hunger, as if the two and a half full trays, not plates, of sushi that she had torn through only less than a half hour ago had hardly dented her appetite.

I didn’t want to be the one to say it, but if Katie really wanted to slim down a bit, the thing to address before anything else should have been her demonstrably monstrous appetite. Even if she had claimed that she couldn’t help herself or that she struggled with self-control, she had to see that the insane amount of food she ate, enough that her family had gone out of their way to force her to seek special help to try to reign herself under control, had to be the primary contributor to the shocking, stunning size of the lower half of her body. She’d easily eaten more sushi than I could probably get through in two days, fish burgers not included, and yet here we were in a fast food lane so that she could continue gorging herself before we went to yet another locale so that she could treat herself to even more unnecessary excess calories.

The van started moving more quickly again, but only for a moment before it came to a complete stop. The driver, Ricky, I finally remembered, must have pulled over into a parking spot so that he could bring the second half of Katie’s “dinner” to the vehicle’s back entrance. Hopefully, for Katie’s sake, she hadn’t requested a terribly large amount of food. If she really had any intention of dealing with, as she had described it earlier, her “problem”, the dietary restrictions had to start somewhere.

After just a few moments, I heard a click off to my left and the van doors opened, with Ricky reappearing for the first time since I’d seen him hop into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him. When I saw just how much to-go he had cradled in his strong, stiff arms, I had to roll my eyes, any notion of Katie imposing any “dietary restrictions” on herself for the night having completely flown out the window.

‘Jesus, Katie,’ I thought to myself.

Ricky stumbled up the steps with Katie’s bundle of fast food takeout, the lack of any surprise or alarm in his expression indicating to me that this was hardly out of the ordinary for him. I counted six bags cradled in his outstretched arms, bags that were filled to the brim with as much food as they could hold; he must have been carrying enough to cover an entire picnic table.

“Miss Iaccone,” he nodded, saying nothing else and only barely acknowledging me.

Katie was practically drooling with anticipation. She licked her lips eagerly, not rising from her pinning position on top of me but twisting her frame eagerly to generously accept Ricky’s wares.

“Thank you, Riccardo!” she beamed happily, taking each bag with its decadent aromas one at a time and placing them in her vast, easily accommodating lap in front of her sagging belly. Katie easily had enough food accumulated for a family of six, seven or even more and she hardly waited until it was all unloaded before reaching into the first bag and pulling out her first Big Mac of what I assumed would be many.

She took her first bite and relished in the taste, licking extra secret sauce from the corners of her mouth and sighing momentarily before cramming the rest of the sandwich between her lips with the same speed that I had watched her consume the Fujiyama’s sushi; the previous meal clearly hadn’t made too much of a dent in her appetite.

All conversation came to a pause once again as Katie fully occupied herself with feasting on the food that had been presented to her; there were six large brown paper bags filled to the brim and, although from my position I could no longer see them, I knew that they were not much longer for this world.

Ricky merely nodded again to Katie and stepped back out, ever the undaunted, and shut the doors behind him as he returned back to the front of the van. Sure enough, moments later I could feel the car start back up again and slowly back its way out at an angle before plowing forward again; Ricky was already en route to the next destination. Katie didn’t let the sudden shift in locomotion disturb her appetite; I doubted that anything could.

“Mmmm,” she quietly moaned as she ate, finishing the first two hamburgers in barely as many minutes before moving on to the next couple.

Admittedly, I was pleased to have a reason not to need to speak to her for a while. Katie shoveled burgers and fries down her gullet like they were being served to her off of a conveyor belt. It was actually comical how much more quickly her upper half could move compared to her lower one. Sure, it obviously had to do with the considerable size difference between the two sections of her body, but Katie’s arms were such a blur of movement that I laughably could have compared her to an athlete, albeit of a very different sort. Honestly, any thought that could have cheered me up at that very moment would have been welcome. How had I let the night get this far out of hand?

Katie finished another burger and quickly reached into another one of her bags, pulling out a sack of chicken tenders. She quickly gobbled down three before stopping and let out a soft “oh,” clearing her throat and finally addressing me.

“I’m so greedy…” Katie whimpered. “I didn’t even ask if you wanted me to order you anything.”

I was more of the opinion that the most obvious example of Katie’s greed was the sheer amount of food she had ordered for herself and was now consuming, not the fact that she’d neglected to include me in her latest feat of gluttony. It wasn’t worth the risk to me to point that out to her; it was her body, and outside of the fact that it was currently on top of me, I couldn’t really care less what she did to it.

“Oh, its fine,” I shrugged it off. It actually was; I was the actual sort of athlete, which meant I would never be caught eating that much of anything, let alone high-calorie food. I wondered if that was at all worth hinting to Katie, the fact that if she ever planned on losing a single pound, no amount of exercise that she got would have been enough to put a dent in her caloric intake. “I, uh,” I tried to state as subtly as possible, “I just try to stay away from that kind of stuff, honestly.” It was a weak attempt, but I was intentionally walking on eggshells around the subject of Katie’s size, lest I accidentally say something offensive. Again.

“Yea,” Katie admitted to me, “I know I probably should too.” Well, in my mind, there was no “probably” about it. And, despite the fact that she had just clearly voiced that she agreed, Katie had already resumed stuffing her face. “I guess the diet starts tomorrow, then,” she giggled through a full mouth. I tried to let out a weak chuckle in response just to keep up the appearance that I was enjoying myself, but behind her I was grimacing.

“Yup,” I responded. I still wanted to make another attempt at breaking through to Katie about her overeating problem; I decided to try being less subtle this time. “Its just really hard to stay in shape when you, uh, eat too much of the wrong foods, you know?” Or just eat too much in general… I might have been bordering on insensitive at this point, but maybe this was what Katie desperately needed to hear if she ever really did want to shed any of the, oh, eight hundred extra pounds she was saddled with.

“Gosh, I get it!” Katie muffled mock-angrily through puffed up, bouncing cheeks. “I forgot that I was on a date with the next Usain Bolt,” she giggled, convinced that I was actually talking about me and not casually trying to bring up the subject of limiting food intake with her. “At least you’ll have plenty of room for ice cream cake,” she added happily. “God, I should have gotten a soda with this…” she muttered to herself as a followup once she had finished her last tender.

Well, there went that idea… Katie didn’t seem to have any intention of calling it quits or even slowing down. With the amount of food she had gotten, all clearly just for her, I wondered if she would even manage to finish all of it before we got to wherever this ice cream shoppe was. She had stated that it was only a few blocks away… but with Katie’s speed and voracity I was starting to lose doubt that she’d be able to cram everything down her rapacious gullet before we arrived at her default dessert destination.

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The smell of the food was starting to fill the back of the van now, and, with no ventilation or windows on either side of its walls, I was starting to feel nauseated by the aroma. I just mentally added it to the list of distracting discomforts that I was forced to be preoccupied with at the moment; as far as I was concerned, it only ranked third behind how damp I could feel my legs getting from being incubated by Katie’s profound, pillowy posterior and, of course, the all-encapsulating weight of said posterior itself.

I knew I should have just headed home… As Katie tossed aside yet another previously full bag of fast food, I silently hoped that we would be getting to the spot soon, if anything, so that I could relieve myself of the burden of her massive, pinstriped derriere. Every time the van stopped, I prayed that we had finally arrived, not that we had just hit another red light or capricious stop sign. The van itself didn’t feel like it was moving particularly quickly; I surmised that it might not have been able to with how much of a burden it was weighted down with in the back.

Katie had gone back to being mostly silent, save for her fervent chewing and swallowing. The only phrase that I heard out of her mouth for the next few minutes was the occasional polite, subdued “excuse me” followed by an admittedly adorable giggle after a surprisingly dainty belch. I wasn’t even keeping track of how close she was to being done yet… I reasoned that if she hadn’t finished by the time the van pulled to a stop, I’d make the excuse of needing to use the restroom as an excuse to extricate myself from beneath her… even though I was quietly dreading having to lift Katie back up when the time came. I wasn’t sure that I could get a solid grip or foothold on her from my pinned position and doubted, based on Katie’s earlier displays of her lack of athleticism, that she could rise to her own feet unassisted. Maybe her personal driver might be able to help, or maybe she could reach far enough to grab that bar across from us.

Katie, as a true testament to her appetite, was about halfway through the second to last bag when I felt the van pull to another stop. Only, this time, thankfully, instead of resuming motion I felt the engine turn off: we were finally at Katie’s ice cream spot, which meant that I was that much closer to finally getting this “date” over with.

Two short “beeps” from the front indicated to us that we were at the location. My arms had been laying to either side of Katie’s love handles, restless but ineffective, and they stirred back into motion, instinctively reaching to undo the seatbelt that I realized I wasn’t wearing. I realized only at the point that we had arrived that our modified “car ride” might not have been entirely legal or, more importantly, all that safe. On the minor sort of plus side, I figured that, if any sort of accident actually had happened, I was at least encased in enough padding to spare myself any serious injury.

Katie had an entirely different concern on her mind; she was attempting to move what remained of the food, a paltry bag and a half remaining, off of her lap onto the floor of the van on her right side. Reaching over to the right as much as she could with the two bags in her outstretched arm, she could barely surmount the breadth of her own fantastically fat flank, nor could her significantly more petite upper half provide enough of a counterweight for her to lean over to the side, ostensibly anchored in place by her overflowing hips and elephantine behind. She sufficed for merely tossing the bags the remaining half-foot or so casually on to the floor, its paper composition letting loose a sharp crinkling sound as it impacted the velvet carpeting.

“Ugh, I didn’t even get to finish… she griped lightly, “I swear, sometimes Ricky drives too fast…”

Not fast enough, in my opinion. It wasn’t necessarily that the car itself was stuffy, as spacious and surprisingly well-furnished as it was for a modified, glorified delivery van. It was more like any enclosed space that had to house Katie’s enormous hips became instantly overcrowded. I had never been one to be particularly prone to bouts of claustrophobia, but I was mentally screaming for the open space of the outdoors, to no longer be constricted by the overwhelming amount of ass that made me feel as though someone had parked a smart car made of marshmallows on top of me.

I had to inwardly chastise myself for having such invasively rude thoughts about Katie’s body again… it was almost impossible not to, what with the constant, uninterrupted lack of proximity that I’d been forced to endure since Katie had sunk all of her supremely sized softness onto my unwilling, unprepared person. As Katie quickly fumbled for a handful of napkins and dabbed at the corners of her mouth in order to tidy herself up a bit, I tried to push the thoughts of her heinously humongous hindquarters out of my head by focusing on something in confines of the van, anything, that could be more pleasant to focus on. Again, my thoughts drifted to the number that Courtney had surreptitiously slipped into my now slightly damp left pocket.

Whether I wanted it to or not, my mind began to drift to thoughts of Sakura and all of her suppleness… her trim, toned waist, those long, slender legs that had just the faintest amount of chub at the tops of her thighs, just enough to fill out those scandalously tight work jeans but not abnormally, atrociously so… and that perky, breathtaking ass… Breathtaking in an entirely different sense than Katie’s was, of course.

I pondered with just how much of an equally overwhelmed but much more positive, salacious state of mind I would have been in if Courtney had been the one primly perched on top of my lap, as opposed to the monumental, over five and a half foot wide behind that seemed to defy every basic law of human anatomy.

God… I could picture Courtney’s perfectly proportioned posterior making full contact with my crotch, testing not only the limits of her jeans but the limits of my self-control as I was forced to fight against my most basic carnal urges to avoid coming to complete, embarrassed arousal. Courtney seemed to have that effect on me, as she had proven multiple times in person at Fujiyama’s, and it seemed like that lust had carried with me even now that she was completely out of my sight.

I imagined wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her even more tightly into my chest, something that I just couldn’t do with Katie and all of her obstructive ass and sloping saddlebags getting in my way and keeping her thick middle out of my reach. I imagined Courtney sensually crossing one leg over the other, another thing that I was fairly certain Katie couldn’t do, and sitting at an angle so that she could wrap one of her arms around my shoulder while we stared into each other’s eyes. Granted, Courtney’s piercing, black-brown eyes might not have been as captivating to me as Katie’s soft, emerald gaze, but Courtney also didn’t come with an extra eight hundred plus pounds of baggage attached below the waist. No, any slight softness that she had was likely only the bare minimum of body fat for a feminine figure being propped outward more prominently by an underlying layer of muscle, if her prior claims of being very or at least semi-athletic were to be taken at value. There was a chance that I might be able to confirm this for myself this coming Sunday, if I took her up on her offer to go running in the park together.

I was already looking forward to seeing Courtney in her running attire; I was sure that she pulled off leggings far better than Katie could have ever hoped to, especially seeing as Katie likely had to make her wardrobe decisions out of necessity as opposed to aesthetics. Courtney in pinstriped yoga pants… even if the pattern wasn’t really my thing, as far as my libido was concerned, anything form-fitting that Courtney managed to shimmy herself in to would present me with a much more tantalizing temptation that I knew I would barely be able to keep my hands off of. Knowing her tendency to be cavalier and forward to the point that she was a bit of a shameless tease, I could see her going out of her way to intentionally jog directly in front of me, if only to give me a front row seat to the hypnotic bounce of her deliciously sculpted derriere.

The wistful ruminations that I was having about Courtney’s backside were almost enough of a distraction to displace me from where I currently was at the moment, and, had I been with anyone else, or even just myself, I would have felt my jeans starting to feel tighter themselves in a dissimilar fashion to Courtney’s, my sex drive inciting a visible level of arousal by way of the tent that I would have been pitching in my pants. But, as it was, the ever-present, ever-pressing flesh of the girl that I was instead “cuddling” with staunchly afflicted any blood flow to that area. Courtney and Katie’s physiques in contrast were like an over exaggerated showcase of “phat” versus “fat”, the epitome of the juxtaposition between “too hot to handle” and “too much to handle”. If Courtney could be described as being thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, Katie was assuredly thicker than a hot tub full of wet cement. There was no level of sexual excitement that I could have felt for Katie’s monstrously obese lower half, but, even outside of that, the albeit fluffy but obscene amount of pressure on my thighs was finally starting to make my legs feel numb.

I wondered how long it would take for the circulation to fully return to normal in my legs and lower extremities once I was finally relinquished of my burden; while Katie’s ineffably oversized lower half might have left her consistently and majorly maligned motion-wise, mine was beginning to lose feeling despite not even bearing the brunt of her billowing backside, regardless of how “soft and comfortable” Katie had previously attested to being. I’d hoped that she would lift herself up off of me soon… if she even could.

She was still straightening herself out and wiping food debris off of her mouth, using one of the empty bags to toss used napkins into. She hadn’t made an attempt to stand on her own just yet, clearly concerned with making herself look just a bit more presentable before resuming with our evening engagement. I had been so caught up in my personal fantasy that I hadn’t even payed any attention to her for the past few minutes, but I’d about had enough of barely being able to breathe by then, and tapped her lightly on the hip to get her attention.

“Hey, Cou- er, Katie,” I quickly caught myself, furtively cringing at the verbal slip-up I’d almost been guilty of.

“Hmm?” Katie’s ears perked up, having finally returned to Planet Earth now that her gormandizing distraction was finally out of the way. “What’s up, babe?”

“Do you, uh,” I tried to phrase my question delicately, “need any help with standing up?” Not that there was too much help I thought I could give… or even wanted to. I was the one who felt completely restricted in movement thanks to her, but the real motivation behind my offer was that I wanted to subtly indicate to Katie that it was finally time for her to get off of me now…

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“Oh! No, I…” Katie let out a short groan for a moment, stretching both arms out in front of her, “I just have to rock forward a little bit…” She inhaled and exhaled deeply in preparation, puffing her cheeks out in an admittedly cute sort of way, before proceeding to teeter back and forth like a schoolgirl prepping herself to hop into a game of double dutch, albeit much, much slower and more ungainly. With the last few forward motions, she counted down under her breath starting with one, followed with a slightly louder and more determined two before grunting a loud, low-pitched “THREE!”, heaving herself thankfully off of me and just far enough forward to grab the sufficiently sturdy metal bar across from her. She hadn’t entirely risen yet, holding on to the bar for what seemed like dear life while her bent, bovine legs looked like they wanted to buckle underneath her.

Regardless of the precarious state that she was in, I finally felt free at last, the nine hundred forty-five and change pound load of human cargo finally separated from my pitiful, punished lap. I could finally breathe again… I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I immediately began to massage my thighs, hoping to get enough feeling back that I would be able to stand up normally and pretend that nothing was wrong with me. Or, at least, stand up unimpeded once Katie was out of the way. As she leaned forward even further to straighten her legs into a more comfortable and supportive position, her wildly oversized wagon jutted out so spectacularly far behind her that it was only mere inches from my face, giving a full view of its near half-tonnage of travesty while both of the comprising doorway-sized cheeks gyrated and jiggled with no remorse as she thrust them backward for balance.

I almost feared that she would fall back down on to me, and debated sliding out from under her before she had another chance at crushing my pelvis.

“H-here,” I panicked, trying and failing to sound calm and nonchalant, “let me get the doors for you,” I offered, attempting to slide across the surface of the bench’s upholstery. It was a bit difficult, given that Katie’s weight pressing into mine had left a me-sized indent that I had to first lift myself up and out of before sliding my uncomfortably sweaty legs across our shared bench’s plush surface. Now that I could finally get a better look at what I’d been sitting on, as opposed to being solely preoccupied with what had been sitting on me, it seemed like the entire extra-wide seat looked to have been compressed somewhat from the onerous task of having to support the entirety of Katie’s ass on a regular enough basis.

“Okay,” Katie smiled, although she was still struggling to adjust herself, draped over the van’s railing in a position that mirrored how she had needed to support herself after climbing the steps to get inside in the first place. “Thanks, Davie! Just give me a second, I’ll be right behind you.”

Well, that would definitely be a welcome change of pace. Reaching the edge of the seat, I rotated to its edge and made to stand up as well, using the bench’s back for support as I rose to my feet. My still-slightly numb legs, equal parts damp and unsteady, carried me to the van doors and I leaned against them for a second while I recuperated for a moment. It was actually quite an ironic point of note how spooning with Katie even for such a short amount of time had left us both in a similar state of exhaustion and discontent. We were both hunched over, short on breath and doing our best to recover while our woefully inefficient legs did a poor job to support our upper frames unassisted. I finally felt like I was beginning to be able to grasp just a modicum of what Katie must have had to put up with on a regular basis, how tuckered out and powerless someone could feel when their legs always, as Katie had put it earlier, felt like they were made out of jell-o.

However, the very last feeling that was racing through my mind at the moment was one of kinship or bonding. The musings that I had had earlier at the buffet were turning out to be true: Katie’s zaftig size wasn’t just a burden to herself, it was absolutely a burden to the people in her life as well.

I was exhausted from having to be Katie’s designated crutch for the majority of the evening, both physically and mentally. It wasn’t like I had any sort of aversion to physical exertion, it was an integral part of my lifestyle, after all, but I’d hardly expected to have to wear myself this thin in both patience and stamina for an admittedly very pretty girl. As I used the horizontal surface to push myself upright, I leaned backward with my hands on my hips and stretched out my lower back, praying to God that I hadn’t accidentally displaced something during any one of the multiple tasks that had required me to get up close and personal with all of the plying flesh of Katie’s astounding ass, the car ride itself not included. After checking to see if I was okay, and somewhat ignoring whether or not the girl behind me was, I pushed the doors open, nudging the built-in step to its unfurled position and stepped out into the fresh air once again.

We were in a different parking lot, a smaller one, with barely any other vehicles in it. I practically could have prostrated onto the gravel and kissed the ground like a conquistador discovering a new world, as grateful as I was to be out in the open where I could hopefully keep a decent amount of space between myself and Katie’s ungodly, undulating physique. Having born far too much witness to the full extent of the repeated inconveniencing that was a token of Katie’s dismally distributed super obesity, I was finding my sympathy for her odd over encumbrance waning quite a bit as I tried to put into perspective that continuing to go out with Katie any further would mean that her problems with limited mobility would often become mine as well.

Especially with my mind drifting back to what I could have been enjoying currently if I’d been shacked up in a private car with Courtney instead, running my fingers down her sides and grazing them gently across an abdomen so tight that I could have bounced a quarter off of it, I couldn’t help but repeat the words that she had spoken to me after I’d successfully left her under the impression that I had been catfished by a girl that I’d never met before.

“It’s their fault, right?”

I mean, of course it was. It had to be Katie’s fault that she weighed as much as she did. She could talk about how much she hated her size all she wanted to, I had never met anyone with such a wanton disregard for how much food they put into their mouth, “restraint issues” or no. Turning around to face the open doors of the stopped van, I could see that Katie was making her way to the ride’s edge, preparing to carefully climb her way out of the vehicle to join me on the asphalt. I silently, somewhat spitefully wished, hoped against hope even, that she didn’t need any assistance with getting out of the car as well. I’d already dealt with enough for one night, let alone the fact that I was going to have to repeat the whole process of heaving her back in once she had eaten enough ice cream cake and was ready to give me a ride back to my car.

Upon reaching the van’s edge, Katie leaned forward a bit to take a look down at its extra step, frowning a bit as a look of worry flashed across her puckered but pretty face. She looked back up at me, her soft, innocent eyes momentarily melting through my mounting vitriol effortlessly as she pouted her full lips and cried out to me for assistance.

“Oh, babe?” Katie cocked her head to the side and sighed, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other as she addressed me. “I think I need a little bit of help getting down, too.”

Of course she did.

~~

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  • 2 weeks later...

I put on my best poker face, swallowed as much of my disdain as I could and took a step back in the direction of the van, and of my distressed date.

“Sure, uh,” I tried my best to smile in order to hide my frustration, “what do you need me to do?”

Katie crouched as best as she could, sinking into more of a half-squatting position, and held her supple but slender arms out for me to take in each of my hands.

“Just, help me balance a bit so I don’t fall?”

My eyes grew wide and my smile slowly faded as my lips became pursed in hesitation. I’d been honestly dreading the very real possibility of Katie falling on top of me ever since I’d witnessed what she had done to that bench back in Fujiyama’s and become privy to the sheer destructive capacity of her rippling, wobbling ass; even if she was facing frontward, I was not open to exposing myself to the possibility of being her next victim. Still, I’d endured worse then this thus far… and, anyway, this girl was technically my ride, so I wasn’t in the position to refuse her.

I reached out and took her hands in my own while she remained focused on the obstacle below her. Two whole steps… it hardly seemed like much of a task, but Katie’s brow was contorted in concentration as she took one shaky, teetering step down towards the ground… and then another. It was less of a matter for her of placing her foot on the each step and then descending onto the foothold and more her hovering over it and just allowing her knee to buckle, sending her collapsing down with enough force to rock the van momentarily before she repeated the process to find herself planted firmly on the ground.

“Ha,” she smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Or maybe her heavy, exasperated breathing had already returned… “It’s a lot easier going down than going up, right?”

I couldn't disagree. As Katie began to ponderously plod forward, she released my hands from her grasp and indicated the direction of the ice cream parlor. Ricky must have been familiar enough with the location, because he had pulled up directly in front of it. It was a smallish mom-and-pop location, a brick and mortar establishment nestled in a small outlet of stores between a Wine Guys and a mostly defunct video rental spot. The name above read "Gerry's Ice Cream Confections" in garish chipped yellow letters painted on to a worn-out sign. Because the sun had already begun to set behind the building and the street lamps hardly gave the best lighting, it was difficult to see inside through the store's tinted windows from my vantage point, but even from outside, I could tell that the place probably didn't see a lot of business. I figured that that was likely for the better... after the whole Fujiyama's fiasco, I figured that the fewer people who saw me and Katie together, the better.

Katie was already eyeing her go-to spot with a glint of greed in her soft green eyes, as if she hadn't just demolished four and a half bags of fast food takeout just minutes ago, not to mention making a gastronomic spectacle of herself at the buffet before busting through her specialized seating arrangement not twenty minutes prior. She legitimately seemed as though she'd already put the entire mishap behind her, however, likely not wanting to dwell on an incident that had left feeling so red-faced, at least as red-faced as someone with her deep Mediterranean complexion ever got, and focus on the more pleasurable aspects of the evening, namely, the guy that she had dragged along with her for a so-called "romantic" evening.

She stopped for a moment and hesitated, letting out a soft "oh, right," under her breath as if she had just remembered something that she had forgotten. She was already facing in the direction of the ice cream shop, Gerry's, though, so she merely turned to me and asked in her sweet, slightly breathy voice:

"Can you close the van doors for me, if you don't mind? Just so Ricky can find a place to park."

"Sure," I agreed, only somewhat reluctantly. Honestly, it was the least obtrusive thing that Katie had asked me to do so far tonight. I turned around to raise her personalized metal step back up and tuck it in, then slammed the doors shut. Up in front, Ricky let out another two short honks from his horn and pulled away slowly, steering the van into one of the many empty spots in the lot while Katie and I made our way toward the front entrance.

This time around, she seemed too impatient to even wait for me catch up so that we could walk side by side; she was ambling toward Gerry's in her usual slow, encumbered fashion and from behind, I had another chance to take in the wild, jostling wobble of the entire lower half of her body as it quivered tremulously with with each plodding, porcine step that she took. As much as I liked Katie as a person, I really just didn't think that it was something that I could ever get used to, the billowing, awe-inspiring side-effects of her obviously exorbitant excesses and the sheer hassle that came with them. As I followed in the wake of her undulating backside, I was thinking to myself of ways of getting back to the Fujiyama's parking lot without needing to ride again with Katie compressing me with her callipygous corpulence, but it wasn't more than few seconds before she cut me off from my train of thought before turning to address me.

"This place is so great," she said enthusiastically, coming to a stop and rotating in a semi-circle to cast me a gleeful grin of anticipation. "The family-owned places always have the best food, you know?"

I nodded, even though, in truth, I really didn't know at all. It did make sense that Katie would be biased towards preferring family-owned restaurants to the bigger chains, considering that she owned one herself, but, all inherent inclinations aside, I didn't doubt in the slightest that she knew quite a bit when it came to dining out and quality of cuisine.

Not knowing how else to respond, I did my best at continuing Katie's small talk to at least keep the evening conversation flowing casually.

"Uh, how'd you find out about this place?" I asked, not really caring but wanting Katie to take the lead in the dialogue so that I wouldn't have to.

As I caught up to her, Katie slowly spun around until she was facing the proper direction again and reached her hand out for me to hold. As before, I had to keep diagonally in front of her instead of being able to comfortably walk side by side, and as our fingers interlaced, I had to look over my shoulder and practically shuffle sideways so that she could continue to make eye contact as she answered my question.

"My friend Tammie works here. Uh, short for Tamara. We go to meetings together!" Katie winced for a moment, looking down as a thought passed through her mind. "Hopefully, she's here and not her older brother. He's... a little creepy." After her admission, her smile returned as soon as it had vanished as she kept talking. "But Tamara's really awesome. She's super non-judgmental and she always hooks me up when I come in."

"Awesome," I responded. I wasn't sure I cared much for meeting one of Katie's close friends... It might make it come off too hard like we were an item, which I suppose we were at the moment, but, similar to the situation with Courtney, I didn't need anybody else thinking so. Although... if Tamara really was a friend that Katie had met through one of her meetings, there was a chance that she was... similarly "afflicted" as Katie was. Maybe not exactly the same body type and weight distribution wise, but any girl who regularly attended "extreme overeaters anonymous" meetings, or whatever Katie had called it, probably didn't have the physique that I was particularly privy to.

We reached the curb, me easily skipping up the slight elevation in terrain with ease while Katie took a moment longer, needing to heave herself up with a mighty lurch that led to a very unladylike grunt emanating from between her lips. She took a few more heavy, awkward steps across the sidewalk before stopping, gently pulling her hand away from mine for a moment.

“Oh yea,” Katie stopped to warn me, “the door here is a little narrow… so maybe just give me a second, okay?” She used this momentary pause in progression to catch her breath as well, her belabored breathing having nearly returned in full force even after walking only a handful of steps. "Tammie keeps saying she's going to get the stupid entrance widened again... I mean," she rolled her eyes, "she almost needs it just as badly as I do, just saying."

Well, that confirmed it. Whoever this "Tammie" was, she was another girl who must have taken up a LOT of space on her own. Although, whether or not she was so big that she had to shuffle in sideways like Katie did or merely had trouble walking through when facing forward without being encumbered by her rolling, fleshy sides like Katie had been with the twin doors at Fujiyama's remained yet to be seen.

~~

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  • 2 weeks later...

The door to the shoppe was already undoubtedly, unusually a bit wider than usual… but, then again, so was Katie. When she had finally managed to plod a few feet away from the door, she rotated ninety degrees until she was facing sideways, presenting herself at the thinnest angle that she could with hopes that this door, while only a single one at that, would be able to be squeezed through with enough careful precision on her part. I sighed and tried not to look too exasperated, hoping against hope once again that she wouldn’t need me to assist her by pushing her through or… buttering her up, or anything that involved my hands returning to pressing in to the undulating adipose of her quaking ass.

Katie let out one big breath before straightening out her shirt and sweatshirt, pulling both down as far as she could only to have the hem of her shirt spring right back up to settle just above her gushing, insurmountable love handles. She’d accomplished almost nothing in terms of any more coverage, but I did have to admit that her pulling her shirt down did expose a bit more of her deep, inviting cleavage, which I certainly wasn’t complaining about. Looking Katie up and down, I was reminded of what a work of art… “certain” parts of her were, the extra pudge that she carried from halfway up her torso and upward settling itself nicely in all of the right places.

On top of that, Katie was, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl that I had ever met in person... I almost wished that those magic shows were real, the ones where some hack magician with a saw cut his scantily clad female assistant in two only to have the separate halves flailing individually inside some cleverly built coffin contraption while he showed off how seamlessly the two of them had been separated. I'd slice Katie in twain right around the sternum and run off with the salacious upper half, forgetting that I'd ever even seen what lie in wait in the bottom compartment.

Forgiving how exceptionally morbid that thought was, I mouthed a quick "sure" to Katie as she began her unique process of calamitously crab-walking in the door's direction. It was one that opened outward as opposed to inward, and I wasn't sure that Katie would be able to reach the handle on her own facing the way that she was.

Katie must have known as much as, sure enough, she unabashedly asked for my aid with yet another doorway that she needed help passing through.

“Umm, would you mind getting the door for me?” she asked sweetly. I nodded and took a few quick paces ahead of her, reaching for the handle and pulling it all the way back towards me. There was an expectantly sweet smell that wafted from inside the shoppe, and I could tell that Katie must have instantly noticed it too by the way she closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply through her nose this time, returning to her short, steady pants through her mouth not soon after.

“Mmm,” Katie cooed softly, “it smells amazing in there…” I was sure that her mouth was beginning to water and, eager to make her way inside, Katie began her sideways, jiggling jostle into the parlor. She was fortunate that this door was indeed built quite a bit wider than the norm, although she probably would have been better off facing off against double doors again, even if she still had to force a considerable amount of hip fat through before she managed to clear them. Instead, her sideways maneuver was getting her through the wider single door without too much difficulty at all… until she started to approach the center of her mass, where her butt ballooned out the farthest in the back and her belly bulged out the farthest in the front.

Katie grimaced; she was beginning to run into some difficulty, I noticed, and even if she hadn't been wearing the look of discomfort discontent on her face, it would have been easy to see that she had encountered another roadblock by the way her taut and teased tummy was being cut into by the door's frame. Katie's burgeoning body was already put under enough strain whenever she attempted to stand and walk on her own unhindered, but the added stress of having to stay on her feet while literally forcing her way through a restrictive enclosure meant that she was going to have to find a way to wedge herself through quickly; I wasn't sure how long she could stay on her feet for like this, and, unlike with the van, she didn't have the option of pausing to take a break halfway through. As Katie continued to squeeze her way through, micro-inch at a time, I could see the frame start to cut more and more into her stomach, to the point where it was starting to look less uncomfortable and more like it was actually painful. I could only imagine how much more invasive the doorframe situation from behind; the one saving grace of Katie's absurd ass, I suppose, was how surprisingly squishy and pliable it was. I remembered how deeply my hands had sunk into it when I had helped her to her feet at Fujiyama's, or when she had needed me to help push her up the two steps into her car, and could only imagine that my strong but firm hands were an entirely different feel than the ungiving, unbendable metal of the building's entryway. Worst of all, Katie hadn't even reached the crux of her depth yet, the true center of her body where she was sure to need to toil the most in order to squash her way through.

And to believe that this doorway used to be even smaller than it was now...

~~

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  • 4 weeks later...

Katie was starting to look a bit panicked now, as if she hadn't fully thought choosing this destination spot through. But she had said earlier that this was a regular spot for her... I had assumed that she came here often enough that she should have known whether she would be able to fit or not. She managed to cram her way in just a smidge further before getting truly frustrated, angrily muttering the f word loud enough to be heard both inside and out, catching me slightly off guard because I just wasn't used to Katie swearing. She looked down at the obstruction in front of her, her own belly, and then back at me, her eyes reddening by the second as though her tears were about to make their return.

"Shit..." she muttered. "Davie," she used the hand that was still outside of the ice cream parlor to prop open the door, her likely still slightly greasy hands smudging the clear glass. "I'll hold the door. Could you just... could you just help push, please?"

I hesitated even though I could hear the desperation in her voice; Katie was once again in a position that she couldn't extricate herself from without significant help. At this point in the night, however, it was NOT help that I was in any mood to give. I almost wished that we'd brought that team of Japanese men with us. I would have rather anyone but me come to Katie's aid this time around. Racking my brain for solutions, I debated running back to the van to go fetch Ricky, I was sure that he was more used to dealing with this sort of thing, Still, it might have come off as a little too harsh if I just abandoned Katie while she was in such an embarrassingly precarious position. I wondered if there was any possibility of Katie sucking her gut in, but I was pretty sure that that wasn't going to help.

I gulped, knowing what it was that I was going to have to do but also knowing that I would loathe actually doing it. Using my advantage in height to glance over Katie's head and peer inside the store proper, I wondered if there was anyone on the other side of the brick wall who could provide us both with some assistance with Katie's most recent predicament, anyone who would even want to in the first place. And, luckily for me but much to Katie's deep chagrin, there actually was this time around.

Hurriedly approaching us with quite the peculiar look in his eye was someone whom I didn't know at the time that I was about to become much better acquainted with over the next half-hour or so.

Although I didn't know his name or who he was just yet, I was about to be introduced to Tamara's "creepy brother", Mikey.

“Heh, hey! Katie!” I heard a deep voice boom out from the guy walking towards us. He appeared to be just a bit older, with a full, brownish blonde beard that seemed fairly well-maintained connecting to full sideburns that framed his ruddy, jovial face. His hair was a lighter shade of blonde than his beard was, gelled backward and out of his face, and paired with his striking blue eyes. He flashed a dazzlingly white smile in Katie's direction, which Katie ignored with a grimace and a deep, reluctant, possibly even resentful, sigh.

"He is the last person..." Katie began to mutter before trailing off, her eyes wide and her gaze fixed solely downward in front of her, as if she was trying to look in any other direction but his.

Mikey must not have noticed. He stopped just short of Katie's burgeoning, obtrusive hip, oozing into the entryway to the establishment and surely preventing anyone else from making their way in or out. I would have figured that this would have been enough motivation for him to help Katie either make her way through or back out the way she came; I could tell by the faded "Gerry's" logo printed over the left pocket of his comically bright pink collared t-shirt that Mikey was probably an employee here along with his sister.

But this particular employee seemed to have other things on his mind...

"I thought it was you!" he guffawed, clapping his hands together. "I haven't seen you around in months! I mean, you're kind of hard to miss, aren't you?"

He snickered under his breath as he said this, looking Katie up and down... and left and right, with a noticeable sneer.

Katie's previous look of desperate frustration changed to one of riled anger.

"Ha, that's really funny, Mikey," she turned to face him at last, scowling. "And then you wonder why I don't come in when you're around anymore."

I could hear a capriciousness in Katie's tone that I certainly wasn't familiar with; there was a history here that I wasn't privy to, and Katie, whether due to the awkwardness and frustration of having a conversation struck up with her while she was clearly in an uncomfortable, compromising position or due to whatever past she had with the man who had just walked over.

"Because of little old me?" Mikey asked cajolingly, raising a plastic-gloved hand to his chest in mock offense. "Or because this is the third time you've gotten your ass stuck in our doorway?"

"I- I'm not stuck!" Katie protested, although she was clearly on her way there. She broke her gaze away from his smirk and looked back down at her protruding belly and the doorframe pressing into it. "It's just... a little tight for me..."

Mikey let out a sharp, short chuckle, one that was dripping with malice and dismissiveness.

"Now you're starting to sound like Tam," he commented, more or less confirming to me that Tamara was indeed somewhere on Katie's level of awe striking obesity. "I swear, you two are like birds of a feather. Or more like whales of a pod or something. Hippos of a-"

"Okay! I get it!" Katie cut him off angrily. "Like I don't know that I'm... I'm chubby. You don't need to remind me every ten seconds."

"Yea babe," Mikey grinned and cocked his head to one side, "I'm pretty sure "chubby" is the understatement of the 20th century."

"It's the 21st, genius," Katie fired back. "And I told you to stop calling me "babe", asshole." From off to the side and slightly out of Mikey's view, I stood there speechless, mouth a little agape as I listened to the veritable downpour of insults streaming out of Mikey's mouth. Katie's eyes were narrowed in rage, but that didn't stop me from noticing that her tears had indeed returned, not cascading down her soft cheeks quite just yet, but pooling in her flustered, livid eyes.

Mikey either hadn't picked up on Katie's tone and facial expression at all or was somewhat used to it, because his grin didn't falter one bit and he didn't slow down with his verbal disparagement.

"Well, it'll probably be the 23rd by the time we get you out of there. You sure you don't need us to call the fire department again?"

Wow... This Mikey guy was a lot less of a creep and more of a jerk, in my opinion. He wasn't even a particularly skinny guy himself. If the description of "chubby" fit any of the three of us, it was him. Sure, he wasn't anywhere in Katie's egregious echelon of obesity, or likely his sister's from what I was hearing, but his work shirt did look a size or two too small and only barely managed to cover his bulging ** belly, a belly that shook and jostled every time he guffawed at one of his own snide stings. The "Gerry's" logo on his shirt was distorted somewhat due to the way it was stretched tight across his left moob and his beard only just managed to cover up the second chin peeking out from under his ruddy face. Given that he was a few inches taller than me, possibly six foot three to my six on the dot, he had to be anywhere around two hundred fifty to three hundred pounds himself. Granted, that might have only been less than a third of what Katie weighed... but he still didn't really have any right to be so mean.

It was absolutely having a major effect on Katie's mood, especially that last comment. I could tell by the mortified look on her face that she didn't like being reminded of that particular incident. She looked notably downcast, full lips trembling as she tried her best to respond to Mikey's vicious retorts without giving him the satisfaction of seeing her whimper.

"That was a long time ago!" she countered bitterly. "And the door was a lot smaller back then, okay? You know that." She crossed her arms over her perky, prominent chest, her gaze focused downward and her temperament certainly far past soured. As she moved her hand off of the door, it gently began to drift back into place until it collided slowly and softly with my outstretched arm again. It might have been the angle at which I was standing or a combination of my reticence throughout the vicious verbal exchange taking place in front of me and Mikey's preoccupation with keeping it as one-sided as possible, but he seemed to not have noticed me yet. Or, at the very least, if he had, he was clearly having too much fun digging in to Katie to acknowledge me yet.

"Well, looks like you caught up again, babe," Mikey responded, ignoring Katie's cross request to forgo with the pet names. It didn't escape Katie's notice.

"I am NOT your babe," she spat at him derisively. She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her jutting hips, turning to Mikey and leaning in towards him as best as she could to glower directly at him. "You had that chance and you blew it, remember?"

Upon hearing that, I had to raise an eyebrow. Had Katie and Mikey actually been an item in the past? Or, at the very least, had one of them wanted to be? I could tell by the way Mikey reacted to Katie's last comment that it had caught him off guard and shook him up a bit; he backed up for a second, cheeky grin finally dissipating as his features twisted into a scowl to match the intensity of Katie's own. His voice became a lot less boisterous and his shoulders slouched, his demeanor instantly becoming much more subdued.

"That's only because you're a freaking hypocrite..." he muttered, looking off to the side for a second in embarrassment.

"No, it's because you're a creep and a loser," Katie crossed her arms again, more confidently this time as she began to turn the tables and dig in to Mikey's insecurities the same way he had been doing with her. She took a moment to lift one hand to her eyes to wipe them free of the tears that were forming, sniffling as she brushed her hair out of her face with a flick of a finger.

It was a bit fascinating how much range of motion Katie had above the waist. She was completely jammed in the doorway without even being all the way in, swiftly approaching being stuck whether she wanted to admit it or not, but no part of her upper body came close to being in contact with the obstructive frame. I was sure that she had much, much more space in the back than she did in the front, but she still had the space to lean forward if she wanted to. She needed that extra space for her gently heaving, tantalizing bosom; Katie was clearly getting tired again.

"Well, if I'm such a loser, then why'd you even show back up here? You miss me or something?" Mikey fired right back, the irritability apparent in his tone although his smug smile had returned.

"Because I thought you didn't work Thursdays anymore!" Katie pointed out to him matter-of-factly. "Don't flatter yourself. I thought Tammie would be here today, not you."

Mikey's face only became more contorted as Katie shot him down a second time.

"Well, she is here," he told her. "She's in the back, "sampling the stock" as usual," he said, using air quotes."I swear to God, what's the point of even wasting money on your stupid little Fatass Club if the two of you are just going to show up bigger every month?"

"Oh, what are you, my fucking sponsor?" Katie waved him off. The language between the two of them was starting to get increasingly profane; I was beginning to wonder if they were really going to devolve into having an out and out quarrel in the front of the ice cream parlor. "And last time I checked, you were a pretty big fan of my fat ass back when you thought you still had a shot." She wasn't smiling, but she winked at him, as if she was having fun rubbing in the prior failures of his unrequited romantic conquest.

"Wha- I... Well..." he stammered and stuttered, struggling to come up with a comeback he could send back Katie's way.

"Whatever dude," Katie cut him off, not giving him the opportunity to derogate her any further. "Can you just get her, please? I'm not in the mood to deal with your bullshit tonight."

"And what," Mikey chuckled spitefully, regaining some of his callous composure, "miss watching you squirm like this?"

Katie sighed deeply, her shoulders rising and falling morosely, from what I could tell out of equal parts exhaustion and frustration as she looked downcast again and the will to keep arguing dissipated from her once again crushed spirit. She turned to me now with a pitiful, defeated look, as though she was either expecting me to say something to come to her aid or was attempting to apologize for the whole experience.

~~

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I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to get caught in between the crossfire both because I didn't really have all of the information about their mutual animosity and because I wasn't looking to pick a fight with a guy who was so much... bigger than me. Plus, well... I didn't necessarily disagree with a lot of the hurtful things that he was saying. Sure, I could never be so harsh and vitriolic, could never find myself being that sardonic and cruel, but Mikey had made several points that were worth pondering. I mean, to be fair, weren't Katie's meetings actually just a huge waste of money if they kept proving to be ineffective month after month? Wasn't getting herself lodged in a doorway that was even wider than the standard, while turned to the side to make herself as narrow as possible at that, kind of a wakeup call that she'd let things progress too far?

"I guess if you really need the help getting inside," Mikey continued, the acidity in his tone having returned now that he felt like he was back in control, "I'll have to come around back so I can shove your ass through again." He licked his lips as he offered, leering at Katie in a manner that was quite inappropriate as he looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on what else than her humongous hindquarters. Katie grimaced and let out an audible "eww" reacting, scrunching her face in such a look of sheer disgust that one would have thought that Mikey had just offered to spray her with a skunk.

"You wish, pervert," she turned the offer down. "You don't even care about helping, you're just looking for a lame excuse to grope me again like last time," she accused him.

Mikey let out a loud, harsh laugh that likely drew the attention of whatever minimal number of customers were in the store.

"So what if I am?" he challenged her. "I'd just be doing you a favor anyway. It's not like any other guy on the planet even wants to put their hands anywhere near all of that," he capitulated that by giving Katie a hard slap on her ass cheek and left his hand planted there, eliciting a sharp squeal of surprise from her as she quickly knocked his arm away.

"That's that's not true..." she whimpered, sniffling again as the waterworks began to start in earnest. "Just leave me alone, asshole."

Okay, that was it for me. After everything that Katie had said to me when she'd opened up about her dating problems earlier, this guy was taking a step too far. Plus, she was right. He was really creepy. I was starting to take Katie's stance in thinking that Mikey was so incredibly rude to Katie because he did in fact want her but had been rejected and was now resorting to cruel quips and sardonic humor in order to lash out at the girl who had clearly wounded his heart. It was a childish way to go about dealing with being scorned and someone who was clearly senior to us, even if not by much, should have known better.

"Hey, dude," I spoke up, sidestepping into better view and finally getting Mikey's attention. "Why don't you back off a little bit? Go clean up that chocolate stain on your shirt or something."

Mikey looked past a softly sobbing Katie to meet my miffed gaze, returning it with a smirk and a dismissive once-over.

"And who's this, your new driver?" he asked. "Did Roberto finally up and quit on you?"

"His name is Riccardo, dick," Katie responded through angry tears, epitomizing the meaning of the expression "if looks could kill". I could tell that the ass slap was where Mikey had crossed the line for her as well. "And no, Davie is my date tonight," she recrossed her arms confrontationally, "so I guess I don't need any "favors" from you after all."

It was hard not to notice the immediate change in facial expression Mikey underwent upon hearing those words. He immediately tensed up as he took another look at me, far more scrutinizing this time. I simply half-smiled back at him, straightening my posture standing tall in a way that I hoped make me look as imposing as possible.

"I- you're... you're seeing someone else now?" Mikey sputtered. He looked upset, bewildered, distraught. He must not have seen that answer coming.

Katie scoffed and rolled her tear-stained eyes.

"We were never seeing each other in the first place, Michael," she spat, using his full name. "We went on one shitty date and it sucked, and you suck, and, and-"

"Mikey!" I heard another voice call out from behind him, interrupting Katie before she could sink fully in to her deprecating diatribe, "what's the point of giving you the Thursday shift if you're just going to- wha- Katie, is that you?"

My "date" sighed again, this time out of relief as she instantly recognized the voice.

"Finally..." she muttered. "Tammie, could you kindly tell your brother to fuck off, please?"

"Mikey," the voice repeated itself, much angrier in tone this time. "What are you doing?! Can you NOT bother our customers please? Or do I need to tell Dad you're losing him money again?"

"What? No, don't- I'm just..." he turned around, giving up on the whole affair and throwing his arms up in a frustrated shrug. "Whatever, screw this. I have to wipe down the counters anyway," he excused himself, throwing back one more irate, jealous glance in my direction before storming off.

I looked over to Katie, the tears still steadily streaming down her tan, angelically beautiful face. Even when crying, she was adorable, but I still didn't like seeing her this way.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, to which she nodded slowly in response, although she certainly looked otherwise.

"Yea, I'm fine," she told me, wiping away more tears as she slowly began to plod back out of the doorway and towards me, her billowing butt and burgeoning belly oozing out of the cramped opening like an uncooked sausage being squeezed out of its casing. "Maybe we should just go somewhere else for dessert... Like, somewhere with outdoor seating..."

"No way in Hell!" I heard from Katie's other side, the voice, Tammie's I was assuming, sounding much closer to us this time. "I sent Mikey to the back for the rest of his shift on freezer scrape duty. If my brother's being an asshole again, I'll even send him home for the rest of the night."

I broke away from Katie's tear-stained gaze to look up at who the voice belonged to, to finally get a good look at this Tamara that I had been admittedly curious about.

Honestly, I'm not sure how I could have missed her...

~~

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  • 3 weeks later...

Side-stepping her way out of Gerry's to greet us now was probably the second largest woman that I had ever seen in my life, after the one that I was currently out on a date with, of course. She was a bit older, bespectacled and tall, for a woman, at least, only a couple of inches shorter than me, although her height wasn't what contributed the most to her size. Mikey had been right; she and Katie really must have been birds of a feather.

Not surprisingly, the two of them weren't built at all similarly; I took it for granted that Katie had a physique that was simply one of a kind, weighing such an incredible amount without the majority of it being at all perceptible if one viewed her only from her waist and upward, a mistake that I had regrettably been making for months at Finoli's. No, Tamara had to be built nearly the exact opposite. Sure, she still had incredibly large thighs, straining every stitch and seam of her tan work corduroy pants, but they weren't anywhere near as thick as Katie's, and her hips, while certainly capable of plugging the doorway that Katie had almost found herself trapped in, still looked to only be around three-ish feet in width give or take, or mostly give a few inches, still a far cry from Katie's beyond hefty hips but definitely alarming in its own right.

Where Tamara seemed to carry the brunt of her obesity was above the belt line as opposed to below; she had huge breasts, the largest I had ever seen, although that made sense given how large the person they were attached to was. But even these paled in comparison to the belly that they rested upon. She had a shockingly vast, two-tiered titan of a belly, one that stuck far forward before succumbing to its weight and sloping downward almost to her knees, propped up only slightly by her puffy thighs. Her pink tee was embarrassingly undersized; it only just about covered her surging chest, making the Gerry's logo pop out like a cheap effect in a 3-D movie. Rather than leave her large stomach exposed to the cold air and to customers, she wore a black lycra undershirt that she had somehow managed to tuck into her pants, stretched so thin that I could clearly make out the outline of where the two massive tires of her stomach separated.

Rounding that out, she had an incredibly fat face, chubby cheeks and at least two chins that jiggled intensely whenever she spoke.

"Hey, guys," she greeted us, her voice deep and weighty in accordance with her appearance. She took a moment to reach up and peel her glasses off of her face; because of the more upward distribution of her body fat, even her face had gotten too big for her to comfortably wear her own glasses without them digging into its softness. Unlike Katie, there was no hiding how massive she was from any angle or viewpoint. She quickly wiped her glasses on her overly tight work shirt before putting them back on, her fluffy features posed in a look of concern. "Sorry, it gets really foggy back there in the freezer. Is everything okay here? Katie! Its been a minute."

Katie looked obviously worse for wear, and I didn't blame her. That guy Mikey had seriously dug into her a few seconds ago, enough where even I didn't regret jumping in to come to her aid. At the very least, she seemed to visibly cheer up at the sight of her friend stepping out of the parlor to greet us.

"Yea, I guess its been a couple of weeks," Katie commented, her voice still soft and cracked even though her lips were slowly forming into a weak but genuine smile. "It's good to see ya, Tam."

"Oh, sweetie," Tamara sighed. "I swear, Mikey is such a dick sometimes." She sighed. "You can't choose your family, right?"

Katie meekly raised her hand and chuckled.

"Only child," she pointed out as a joke. "Lucky me, right?"

"I'll say," Tammie guffawed. She turned to me and smiled. "Mikey's my little brother," she explained. "And I'm Tamara, the boss around here." She put her hands on her hips, or rather, sunk her fists into the heavy love handles that obstructed them, puffing her chest out proudly. Or, maybe she was just leaning backward a bit to try to counter the weight of her large, sagging tummy. Either way, her breasts, well-supported by whatever most likely custom-made bra she was wearing, were thrust even farther forward, making them even more protruding and prominent. "And you are?"

"Oh, this is Davie," Katie waddled closer to me and took my hand in hers. "He's my date."

~~

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  • 10 months later...

Tamara's eyes lit up in enthusiasm as she looked me up and down, her face flashing a heavily dimpled smile as she gave a silent nod of approval.

"So that's what's got Mikey so worked up," she mused. "Definite improvement, by the way."

I smiled at the compliment.

"It's uh... It's good to meet you," I said to her, holding out my free hand for her to shake.

"Mmm," her eyes traced up my arm as she shook it, "if I was ten years younger," she purred appreciatively.

"Not a chance," Katie playfully yanked me back towards her. "I brought him here, he's mine."

Tamara laughed.

"Of course, the good ones are always taken."

I smiled along with the two of them, even though on the inside, I was grimacing. Tamara was definitely not my type, ten years my senior or not. She was admittedly not a bad looking lady; her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a wispy bun which, along with her glasses, gave her a sophisticated look. She had done her makeup up well enough, clearly had a sense of fashion about her in that aspect, although...

Well, holy Hell, she was fat. She was morbidly obese in a much more traditional way, maybe not as heavy as Katie was when the two of them stepped on a scale, but while there were at the very least parts of Katie that I could still find myself strongly attracted to, even aroused by, Tamara was swaddled by her obesity head to toe in a way that I couldn't imagine myself reconciling with. Maybe my being with Katie, holding her hand on the pavement under the street lamps, gave Tamara the impression that I was into bigger women, which I wasn't. But even if I was... Tamara was just blobby in a way rather than curvy. I was familiar with the idea of a woman being "thicc", maybe not to Katie's ridiculously impractical extreme, but was under the impression that that descriptor would have implied a more hourglass or pear-shape body, one with a waist that was at least comparatively smaller than her hips, tapering inward at least somewhat like Katie's kind of did. But, other than the thick legs that held up her frame and the astounding breasts that topped it, Tamara was almost all belly. She had no waist to speak of, and her hips, while certainly wide, were eclipsed and generously covered by the copious amount of flab that constituted her side-fat. Said side-fat led forward to quite possibly the largest, roiling stomach that I had ever seen, beating Katie's admittedly impressive droopy tummy by a wide mile and jostling noticeably whenever she laughed. I found the extra weight to be an immediate turnoff, and was embarrassed for the woman that she would ever think that someone in as good physical condition as me could find her remotely attractive, "opposites attract" be damned.

Most awkward of all, though... Katie had introduced me as her date, made a point of emphasizing that I was "hers", had even put Tamara under the impression that I was "taken"... Not that I was particularly upset that this specific woman would have thought that I was off the market, I just didn't really want anyone seeing me and Katie as an item. It wasn't true in the slightest, and if Katie got that idea too embedded into her head then that would just make it all the more awkward when I told her that she sort of wasn't my type either.

"Well, its a pleasure to meet you," Tamara smiled at me before turning to Katie. "Are you two coming in?" she asked.

Katie looked to the side, clear disappointment visible on her face.

"I um..." she embarrassingly explained, "I'm having a little trouble with the door," she frowned. "Looks like its too small for me. Again," she rolled her eyes, still red slightly from the tears she had just been crying.

Tamara gave Katie a pitied, understanding glance and a soft nod before trying to put her at ease.

"Oh, I've been having the same problem lately," she said, patting her proud, protruding flanks. "But it's not too much of a problem if you just turn to the side and scooch your way in."

Katie scoffed, sniffling again.

"Maybe not for you guys," she said, including me for some reason. Of course I didn't have any problem getting in and out of the doorway. I was probably the only one of the three of us who weighed less than five hundred pounds, if I was any good at guesstimating people's weights, and I would have had no problem with simply striding through the doorway facing frontward like a normal person, no fear of contact with the frame required.

"Oh," Tamara responded, matching Katie's frown. "I see." Mustering the most sympathetic look that she could, she tried making a different suggestion. "Do you want to come around back? Use the loading entrance?"

Katie sighed, frustrated.

"I already have to do that at work, and it is so embarrassing..." she lightly complained.

"No judging eyes here," Tamara shrugged. "You can come up the ramp if you want."

"I would, but its a really long walk and my feet are killing me," Katie griped, shifting her immense weight from one foot to another. "Plus," she added, "your asshole brother is in the back."

"I'll send him home," Tamara offered. "Hell, if it were up to me, I'd fire him." She turned to her left to glance into the parlor's empty seating area. "I mean, we're completely dead today, so I figured we close up early anyway." She turned to Katie, a wide smile pushing her dimples into emphasis even further. "And we're getting a new shipment tomorrow. You know what that means, right?"

Katie's eyes lit up immediately, her mouth slightly agape as she looked Tamara in the eyes with a newfound enthusiasm.

"You need someone to... "help" you get rid of the old stock?" she asked, a sudden cheeriness reintroduced to her tone.

Tamara nodded knowingly.

"Just like old times, right?"

"Oh my gosh, Carol would kill us," Katie laughed.

"Well, what Carol doesn't know is a lifetime on the hips," Tamara chuckled, combining two age-old expressions.

"Ha," Katie chuckled and patted the top of her heinously obtrusive haunch with the hand that wasn't still holding mine. "Look who you're talking to."

They both giggled at Katie's self-deprecating joke while I stood there confused. I wasn't entirely sure what the two of them were planning, only that it sounded awfully like I was in for a much longer night than I had anticipated. Were the two of them about to clean out the entire parlor? It was something that I had to assume that they were capable of, especially having witnessed Katie's unbridled gluttony firsthand. Sure enough, Katie let go of my hand and clapped the two of hers together, now in a much better mood than she had been in only a few minutes ago.

"Screw it, let's do it!" she said excitedly. "I've been kind of having a major sweet tooth lately," she shyly confessed.

This time, it was Tamara's turn to mock herself.

"Hey, look who you’re talking to," she patted her fat, jiggling stomach, which shook in response. "Let's get inside!" She looked over to me for confirmation, like Katie's mind wasn't already completely made up.

"Sure," I smiled, doing my best to hide how exactly unsure I actually was. "Uh, what's going on, exactly?" I asked for clarification.

"Uh," Katie answered before Tamara had a chance to, "how about all the cake and ice cream you can eat?" For free?" I imagined she would have been jumping up and down in elation, if she could.

"Oh, sounds... sweet," I said, not realizing that I had just made a pun.

"Hell yea," Katie agreed, not noticing it either. "I knew there was a reason we were friends, Tam."

"Oh, very funny," Tamara responded, grinning. "But come on in, you two! It's getting chilly out here."

I could hardly see how much of a problem that could be for her; she had plenty of "insulation", last time I checked.

"I know, right!" Katie agreed. "It's March, for goodness sake." She began to waddle toward Tamara, toward the entrance to Gerry's that had denied her easy passage just moments ago.

"Oh, Davie?" she turned to me, giving me a shy, whimpering smile again with those full, pouty lips. "Do you think you could just give me a little push?"

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