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The Girl Behind the Counter


Chickenshack

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Of course I minded, but I nodded hesitantly all the same. I doubted that it would only require a "little push"; Katie seemed to have gotten herself nearly jammed in there pretty tightly last time.

"Uh, well, are you sure you don't want to just walk around back?" I tried as a last minute save. "Just in case it'd be easier for you, I mean."

"Oh!" Tamara interrupted, suddenly having an idea. "I have an old trick that we could try out. It's gotten me out of a literal jam a couple of times."

Katie's ears perked in curiosity. So did mine.

"What kind of trick?" she asked innocuously.

"Well," Tamara explained. "I have some olive oil in the back. How attached are you to those leggings, hun?"

Katie sighed, wearing a wry smile as she looked down at her lower half.

"They barely fit anymore, anyway," she shrugged. "It sucks, they were loose on me a couple of years ago."

"Well, you can toss em after tonight," Tamara told her. "I'll even take you shopping next weekend if you want."

Katie half-smiled, rolling her eyes.

"Stores don't really carry my size..." she explained. Gee, that was a big surprise. "I had to order these online," she admitted, pulling up at the hem again to no real effect.

"Oh, story of my life," Tamara looked down and cupped her massive chest in her hands for a second. "Then special order it is! I'm due for some, er, "wardrobe upgrades" myself anyway," she said, pulling at her bra strap, revealing how much it was digging into her soft, supple shoulder.

"Okay, then," Katie smiled, still likely very eager to get inside. "What's your plan then?"

"Simple," Tamara answered. "I'll go grab the olive oil. We grease you up a little bit and then we slide you right through!"

Katie looked slightly distraught as she mulled the idea over for a moment. She glanced at me for a second, perhaps wondering what I might think, before turning back to her old friend.

"Okay," she finally agreed after a few seconds. "I guess if we have to. As long as its not too slippery."

"Well that's the point," Tamara chuckled. "Don't worry, I used to have to do it all the time before we got the door to this place widened. It'll be a piece of cake! Ha, see what I did there?"

Katie snorted, punctuating her response with another eye roll.

"I guess we know who got the sense of humor in the family," she said sarcastically.

Tamara chuckled and paused for a moment.

"Right," she remembered. "Mikey. I'll tell him we're closing early and he can pack up now, so that he'll be out of your hair." She made to waddle back in to the ice cream parlor before stopping and flashing Katie a sympathetic look. "I am SO sorry for trying to set you two up, by the way."

Katie shrugged, smiling.

"Don't worry about it. I mean, things worked out pretty fine in the end anyway," she said, reaching over to give my bicep a firm squeeze through the sleeve of my varsity jacket.

Tamara drank in the motion, smirking at the two of us.

"Pretty fine, indeed," she cooed. "Oh, to be eighteen again..."

Katie laughed raucously, playfully flipping Tamara off.

"I'm twenty-two, you old hag," she giggled. "And what are you now, like, forty?"

Tamara's eyes went cross in mock offense as she gasped and placed her hands on her sides.

"I'll go get that olive oil now," she took a couple of steps back, lining herself up sideways with the entrance."And be glad I don't dump it on your pretty little head and light your hair on fire."

"So you were born by the time they discovered fire?" Katie jovially jabbed back, sticking her tongue out.

Tamara chortled, knowing she did't have a comeback for that one.

"Smartass," she muttered, smiling as she cumbersomely sidled her way back through the parlor door. "Be right back, guys."

Once she was out of view, Katie, clearly in high spirits again, turned to me with a soft, demure gaze.

"Um," she spoke to me, "I still might need your help with getting through. Plus, if someone has to smear oil all over my butt, I kind of want it to be you," she batted her eyelashes.

"Yea, no problem," I lied. "I'll... I'll do my best."

"Cool," she said. "This has... kind of been a weird night so far, huh?"

More like exhausting... I nodded my head, not wanting to actually answer her lest I accidentally say something too offensive. She was right, though. After having to lift her up off of a broken bench on the floor, help push her into a van, and now, this... It had been a very weird night indeed.

Katie responded to my nod with a mere shrug of her shoulders and a rather adorable simper.

"Big girl problems, right?" she said, patting her immense hips with both hands for emphasis.

I cleared my throat and nodded a second time, plastering on the least sincere smile I had worn that night yet.

Right, Katie... Right.

Katie stood there nonchalantly twirling her hair, eyes glazed over as her mind drifted off to thoughts of her upcoming ice cream binge  with almost celebratory anticipation.

"Mm," she said, licking her lips sensually, "I hope that they still have the German chocolate today." She was talking to herself, but she turned to me enthusiastically to explain what she was swooning over. "They have this triple layered chocolate cake," she gushed, "with fudge in between all the layers and this crunchy cookie crumble on top and its soooo good!" Honestly, she sounded like she was a spokesperson for the establishment. She rambled on and on about her favorites as she began to practically salivate over the bounty of calorie-laden confections that was yet to come. "They have all the classic ice cream flavors like Rocky Road and French vanilla, Neapolitan, and then some really crazy unique stuff like chocolate chip bubblegum, or panda bear- that's regular vanilla with big chunks of dark chocolate in it- or pineapple paradise..."

I was a little overwhelmed... not by the myriad of options that Gerry's had for being such a hole-in-the-wall establishment, but by Katie's sudden joy and excitement at rattling them off like she had memorized the store's entire menu. I didn't think that I had ever seen her this eager and excited about anything, not even when I had told her that I "liked her curves" and mistakenly asked her out. Katie was counting off all of her favorite flavors on her fingertips, seemingly forgetting about the impending issue of actually getting her into the ice cream parlor so that she could commence her criminally voracious consumption.

It was Tamara side-waddling back out of the door after a few minutes that finally cut Katie off from her rapacious rambling.

"Alright, kiddos," she jeered, making her return to the conversation. She was holding a metal canister of extra-virgin olive oil in one hand, holding it up for us to see. "It took me a few minutes, but I found one that's almost finished anyway."

"Oh," Katie said, snapping back to reality. "Are you sure it'll be enough?" She ran her hands along what she could reach of her huge hips.

'Maybe if we knock over an oil tanker,' I thought to myself, casting a hard glance in her direction.

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Tamara shook the container, swishing what remained of its contents around a little bit.

"Should be," she shrugged. "Extra-vergin means extra-slippery!"

I had no idea if that were true or not. I wasn't exactly an adept in the kitchen to begin with, but I'd never seen olive oil used for such a ridiculous purpose before regardless. Tamara was already pouring a liberal amount of the stuff onto the doorframe's  opposite edges, a stream of dull amber liquid dripping down either side and pooling onto the floor in small puddles that I would remember to avoid later. If we ever got Katie inside, that is.

"Here, trust me, this should help a lot," she assured Katie confidently once she was finished.

"Well, okay..." Katie said hesitantly. She looked around the mostly empty parking lot for a moment, scanning the scene with her sultry, emerald eyes. "Is there anyone watching?" she asked, concerned that she might expose herself to further embarrassment.

Tamara scoffed, brushing off Katie's trepidation.

"Yea, I think I see Carol there right around the corner."

"Ohmigod, stop!" Katie cackled. "Can you imagine?" She put on a mock face of concern, raising the pitch of her voice and dripping fake sincerity into her tone as she mimicked what I assumed her sponsor must have sounded like. "Katherine, sweetheart, don't you think that this is a big wakeup call for you? Why, when I was your age blah blah blah."

Tamara laughed loudly, placing her hands on her stomach to try to hold her belly in place as best she could while it bounced violently up and down.

"Oh, that's too perfect," she choked out in between guffaws. "It's like she really IS here."

Katie laughed in turn, mockingly taking a small bow, which I surmised was as far as she could bend over.

I supposed that it was good that Katie and her friend could make light of such an unusual situation with each other so easily, but... well, SHOULDN'T have Katie seen this as more of a wakeup call? Even a door that had been custom built for wider entrants was still too narrow and constricting for her to squeeze through without resorting to completely unorthodox tactics. I know that she had said earlier that self-deprecating humor was a coping mechanism for her, but a line had to be drawn somewhere, eventually. No, instead, here I was, getting ready to grease up my date for the evening, and, hopefully, only this evening, like a peg that had gotten too swollen to fit into its slot.

Tamara turned to me, trying to bring me in on the joke.

"Do you know who Carol is yet?" she asked me.

"Oh thank God, no" Katie answered for me. "I hope nobody I like ever has to meet Carol the Critic."

The two went back and forth for about a minute more, exchanging quippy barbs at Carol's expense; I honestly didn't mind. Whatever bought me more time before I had to drizzle oil all over Katie's ass, as if her pants weren't already see-through enough.

"Um, Davie," Katie said after a few more moments, still grinning as she lightly touched my arm. "Do you wanna... get to it or whatever?" She gave me a shy look, as if she was at least a little bit aware of how awkward this was for the both of us. Tamara handed me the canister, which I took reluctantly. It was already a little oily itself, as if some of the liquid inside had already sloppily seeped across the surface of the metal. I was unsure of what exactly the procedure for this was supposed to be though...

"Uh, what should I do exactly?" I asked Tamara, seeing as how all of this was her grand idea.

"Hmm," she pondered, raising a hand to her chin. She turned to Katie. "Maybe it'd be best if you just got started so that we can apply it as we go."

"Okay,,," Katie grimaced, probably not eager to subject herself again to the door's cruel confines. "It's so uncomfortable though..."

"Just think of the promise of triple-layer chocolate cookie crumb cake," Tamara reminded her, leaning in with a grin.

Katie's eyes went wide with ecstasy.

"You mean you have it?!" she exclaimed, cupping her hands over her chest as if she'd just gotten the best news of the night. Hell, maybe she had.

"A whole one," Tamara nodded. "And then another one someone only took a couple of slices out of."

I could sense the gears in Katie's brain start to go into overdrive as she wiped just the slightest bit of drool from the corner of her mouth.

"And what about you, sweetheart?" Tamara turned to ask me.

"All right, awesome!" she smiled and began waddling forward, newly invigorated. Tamara backed up, allowing Katie to get into position before pausing and changing her mind.

"On second thought," she posited, turning to me, "if you're going to push, I'll get on the other side. Just in case we need someone to pull."

Pull from where, I wondered. The combination of Katie's surging saddlebags and Tamara's bulging belly meant that I didn't see how the two astonishingly overweight women were going to be able to coordinate something like that. Katie could only reach so far to the side, as I had seen in the car earlier, and Tamara, when facing frontward, had the obstacle of her surging stomach to surmount if she wanted to bridge the gap in order to take Katie's hand. Both of them were obtrusively obese in a way that made me only see them as being potential hindrances to each other, whether or not Tamara had the best intentions.

Regardless of that fact, Katie took a few unbalanced, ponderous steps backward to allow Tamara to squeeze her way back through the door and into her support position, but Tam still took the time to get one last dig in at Katie.

"And, worse comes to worse," she added as a joke, "I've got the fire department on speed dial," she winked, snickering.

"Oh, shut UP," Katie rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated giggle. "That was the ONE time, okay? So embarrassing..." she cupped her face in her hands, smiling.

Tamara laughed heartily as she sidled back inside.

"Just getting back at you for calling me an old hag, you freakin' comedian," she said before vanishing behind the brick wall.

Katie smirked and used her raised hands to brush the hair back from her face.

"Okay..." she looked forward. "Well, let's give this a shot then."

She waddled back into position and let out a big sigh, somewhat reluctant to try Tamara's scheme.

"Just think about chocolate crumble..." she muttered quietly, psyching herself up in the best way that she could.

I just stood there cluelessly holding the container I had been handed, not quite knowing when my role came into play.

Katie began nervously stepping in sideways, her billowing butt sloshing and jiggling animatedly until the point where her left cheek made its contact with the frame of the doorway. From that point, I could see the solid surface sink into the squishiest, most convex part of Katie's behemoth behind, the sound of the fabric of her soon to be discarded leggings making an audible swishing noise as she smushed herself through as far as the yielding fat of her butt would allow.

I had been right... It did look even more desperate from the back.

In the front, Katie's paunchy stomach scraped against the frame of the door, the oil only doing so much to help as she tried to ignore the discomfort of its smooth edges digging into her prolific poundage. In the back, though, the bulwark of blubber that she was unfortunate enough to call an ass literally oozed over the door's boundaries, less being scraped and more being stuffed in as she closed her eyes and tried to force as much of her bulk into a space that just wasn't designed with her in mind.

The problem with Katie and her extravagantly oversized ass was, while it might have actually been able to compress enough to fit through, she simply didn't have the leg strength to force herself through the space on her own. I could see now why she wanted me to push; it looked doable, but just barely.

She grunted loudly as she tried her best to maneuver her way in. It was an odd sort of shimmy; rather than go straight sideways like an ineffectively corpulent crab, she tried rotating forward first, pushing even more of the frame in to her exposed tummy with a meek, whimpered "ouch!" before thrusting her hip as hard as she could towards Tamara on the other side, dragging her pitifully pinched left butt cheek across the surface of the doorway behind her. It worked to some extent; she was certainly making better progress than before, having wedged herself in a little bit farther than last time, but the left side of her body still wasn't entirely the way through.

Katie pushed a little farther, a little harder, but once she was almost halfway in, she came to a stop. Not of her own volition, though. She was still grunting and heaving herself to the side with a considerable amount of effort, but it was clear that she was out of progress to make. She'd gone as far as she could on her own, and was panting for air as she held herself steady by leaning against the frame in front of her on both arms.

"Ho... Holy... crap..." she gasped, as desperate for air as she was for space.

"Are you okay, hun?" Tamara asked, showing a look of concern.

Katie nodded quickly, too exhausted to speak and likely very eager to get this experience over with, especially since she probably needed to sit down and give her poor, pressured feet a much-needed rest.

Tamara spoke to me now, both of us tall enough to peer over the top of Katie's head to address each other, especially hunched over slightly in fatigue as she was, face pointed downward as she sucked in air through her mouth, struggling to recuperate.

"Alright, Davie!" she called over to me, snapping me to attention. Honestly, I had been so absorbed in the spectacle that I'd kind of forgotten she was even there. "You ready with that oil? I'll pull from here, we shouldn't need that much, but you have to pour it right on the edge of the door, not on her. Got it?"

"Uh," I gulped, "...yea?" I held up the oil container

Katie was so exhausted she almost sounded like she was sobbing again; the raggedness of her breathing was that pronounced.

"Hu... hurry up," she gasped. "Please..." she weakly added, almost completely spent.

I sighed resolutely, taking a few steps toward where Tamara had instructed me to go. I guess this was where I came in.

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So, I've developed a really nasty habit of abandoning stories. I hope I can get back to this one soon...

These are some extra chapters I uploaded ages ago on my p@tr3on but just realized I never put it up here.

Edited by Chickenshack
deviantart.com/chickenshack
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