She mock-swatted him, and when they separated, Lisha got to see Simon in all his glory: his fleshy, fluid sack of a belly seemingly supported by the rigidity of his extra-long penis which protruded straight out from his body. While Lisha was admiring his massive manhood, Elinor had cut two slices of the cake and began feeding it to Simon, while he fed her; Lisha couldn't tear her gaze away, forgetting all about the water she'd come for while she imagined she could see their bellies swelling even further with swallow after relentless swallow. In no time at all, the cake was gone, and the two gargantuan lovers joined in an embrace which crushed their engorged stomachs together, and left their hands each straining to clasp their partner, but daunted by each other's great circumference.

They kissed as hungrily and greedily as they'd eaten, and Lisha could tell that something -- possibly her presence tonight -- had contributed to this awakening of renewed passion. Moments later, they maneuvered their still-lip-locked selves out of the kitchen and into the invisible parts of the house, leaving Lisha to imagine the great tidal waves of flesh and melding of blubber that must have been taking place in their sturdy bed.

With the absence of her entertainment, Lisha realized that her abused body was incredibly exhausted, and she dragged herself up the stairs -- slowly, and with one hand forced to support the weight of the evening's gluttony. She plopped into the bed, and surprised herself with her disappointment that she could still see her toes over the mound of her stomach. She began drifting off, and in that delicious and hallucinatory state of half-sleep, she saw the cover of one of the tabloids: there was a picture of a woman on the beach, kneeling on a blanket, her belly so huge that it covered her thighs and drooped over her knees to touch the sand. Her blanket was blanketed with foods of every type and description which the woman was devouring at a luxuriant pace; as Lisha's viewpoint moved closer and closer, she was first shocked, then gratified to see that this huge woman had Lisha's head. While the scene was playing in her mind, her hand was playing in her crotch, tickling her furry patch and teasing her pussy with the tip of her finger, but even the powerful fantasy and the sensations of self-stimulation couldn't keep her eyes from slowly closing...

She wasn't sure what woke her up, but when she opened her eyes, the sun was high in the sky and there was someone standing over her -- someone whose beauty was only enhanced by the angelic light streaming from behind her, glinting off the silky copper strands of her hair and silhouetting the wide and generous curves of her fleshy body. "Emma!" Lisha exclaimed. "No, just a murdering psychopath. Don't you believe in locking doors? Anyway, I'm glad you didn't, because otherwise I'd still be standing outside, ringing the bell and banging on the door. I called on my cel-phone from the airport -- were you out?" "Only out cold," Lisha answered. "Well, anyway -- I'm here." Emma said. "I rushed like crazy all weekend, then took the red-eye out here, so, now -- I'm ready to RELAX!" Lisha patted the empty half of the huge bed and said, "Well, why don't you lay down with me for a while. You must be exhausted!"

"I AM exhausted," Emma replied, "but if I lay down now, I'll fall right asleep, and that'll totally screw up any chance I have of fighting off jet lag and getting back in sync. So... it's ten o'clock. Why don't you get up and we'll have some breakfast -- airline food always leaves me hungry -- and you can tell me what you've been up to." "Okay," Lisha said, pulling off the top sheet she was wrapped in, and sitting on the edge of the bed. Emma's glance went straight to Lisha's still-swollen stomach and her raised eyebrows forced her eyes open wide with surprise. "Nevermind!" Emma said. "I can see what you've been up to. Either you've been eating enough for a small army or someone's been at you with a bicycle tire-pump! My god, you really HAVE gotten fat!"

"Hey pot: watch out what you're calling this kettle!" Lisha said in mock anger. "I mean, when was the last time your scale saw the low side of 220?" "When I was sixteen years old," her friend answered, "but that doesn't matter, because I'm not depending on my appearance for my livelihood! Are you trying to sabotage your career on purpose?" "No," Lisha replied, then, "Maybe. Or maybe I just want another career. I don't know. I don't know anything right now. The things that have been going through my head over the past couple of months..." Emma came over and put her arms around Lisha's back, pulling her upright into a warm and tender embrace, saying, "C'mon. Let's go fix some breakfast and then we can talk. We've got a couple of days and no plans, so...Maybe we can sort some things out." Lisha agreed and went to the bathroom, then washed her face and brushed her teeth, while her friend headed downstairs.

When Lisha walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, Emma was already cooking up a big western omelette and had put up a bunch of bread to toast. "Don't you ever wear clothes?" Emma asked. Lisha started getting out plates and silverware, saying, "This is the Hamptons, Em! Total freedom." "Yeah, well, there's got to be people all around, then, just looking for nude celebrities." "No -- that's the joke. I have it on really good authority that before July 4th, there's no one even here. I mean, I've been here for two days and three nights already, and the only person I've seen is my next door neighbor -- and her boyfriend." "And were they nude?" "You betcha!" "Well, this body doesn't do nude too well, as you may have noticed," Emma replied. "Oh, come on!" Lisha said. "You've got a beautiful bod. And don't give me that 'fat' stuff -- it doesn't make you any less beautiful. In fact, compared to that next door neighbor, you're a stick! She's got a hundred pounds on you, easy, but that doesn't keep her from the au naturel thing. You tell me I've got to loosen up..." "All right," Emma said, bringing the food to the table, "we'll see how it goes. Maybe I will after breakfast. But, meanwhile... is there anything in the fridge you're not supposed to use?" "Not really," Lisha replied. "Stephen's note said to make myself totally at home and that I shouldn't worry about using anything up because he'll have his girl come in and re-stock the place when I'm done." "Great! Then why don't you grab that bottle of champagne and the OJ from the fridge and we'll have some mimosas."

They sat and talked for quite a while, catching up on the events in their lives since the last time they'd gotten together several moths before. Emma was still unattached as was Lisha, and her career was really tasking off, as was Lisha's. "I never imagined I'd be doing graphic design for a living," Emma said. "I mean: degree in Creative Writing, career in Art." "They're both the same thing," Lisha said, "except one is pictures and one is words. Besides, you're still writing, aren't you?" "Mostly for my own amusement. Nothing I'd really think of submitting anywhere. I keep thinking -- being in Southern California and all -- that I should try my hand at a screenplay, but... I'm kind of short of ideas, so..."

Breakfast was gone in no time, and they leaned back in their seats, sipping their mimosas; the feast of last night was still largely undigested in Lisha's belly, but, although she felt totally stuffed again from just having eaten a heavy breakfast, she was in nowhere near the discomfort she'd been in after dinner. I must be getting used to being a pig, she thought. Emma noticed the binoculars sitting on the window counter, picked them up and peered through them, asking, "So what are you looking for: lonely sailors at sea? The rare wasp-waisted Argentinean bluebeak?" "No, actually, the big-bellied Southampton beachling. You can probably see her right now, a little bit down from where you're pointing." Emma followed Lisha's directions, stopping suddenly when Elinor came into her field of vision. "My god! Is that the neighbor you were talking about? She is ENORMOUS! I can't believe she's just standing there practically nude -- in public! I mean -- if she bent over, her butt'd probably block out the entire horizon!"

"See! So you have nothing to be ashamed of. And look: there's nobody out there at all. Not even fishermen or anyone. It's almost eerie, but I guess that's what these people pay all these millions of dollars for. So, c'mon -- let's go get some sun." "I don't know..." Emma said. "Nude on the beach -- I'm not sure I really want to do this." "Okay, then we don't have to go down to the beach: we'll just hang out on the deck. Loosen up a little. It's not like I'VE never seen you naked before." Emma didn't respond to that last comment; she just looked down at the table for a moment, then lifted her head, smiled a funny kind of smile, and said, "Okay. Why not!" Still holding the binoculars, they headed up the stairs, Emma suddenly becoming playful and swatting at Lisha's naked bottom on the way to the bedroom.

Lisha felt a strong desire to watch her friend disrobe, but realized that Emma was struggling and probably needed a moment of privacy to build up her courage and overcome her embarrassment, so she went out onto the deck by herself, stepping through the gently blowing gauzy curtains and then stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. She was oriented with her feet facing the morning sun and she caught occasional sideways glimpse of Emma's strip-show as the intermittent breezes made the curtains billow. A white and silky bra in one glimpse, a plump, pink breast in another, a stretch-marked belly in yet another. Her last stolen view was of Emma pulling down her modest white cotton panties, and then the curtains parted and she stepped out into the full sunshine. "Don't say anything," Emma said. "Not even to tell you that you are magnificent?" "Well... I guess lies like that are okay." "How about if I were to tell you that I want nothing more at this moment than to hold you close to me and feel every inch of your body pressing against mine --" "Don't go there!" Emma said suddenly, and angrily. "I can't go through that again. I swore I wouldn't."

There was uneasy silence for some time after that, the two girls closing their eyes and pretending to be absorbed in absorbing the sunshine; Emma finally broke the ice, saying quietly, "I'm sorry I got so angry, Lee. It's just... that turned into a real bad time. We didn't even speak for almost a year. You hurt me very badly and sometimes I'm not one hundred percent sure I've gotten past it." "I know," Lisha said. "I was stupid and so afraid of appearances and I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd never accepted my apologies. And the worst part was, I didn't even really like him: he was just convenient." There was a little more silence, interrupted finally by the slurping sound of Lisha finishing her drink. "You want another?" Emma asked. "Okay," Lisha said. "I'll get 'em if you want." "No, that's okay --" Emma replied, "I'm gonna get used to this walking around the house naked thing. After all, 'When in Rome...'"

If you've got any comments or criticisms, you can post them on the WeightBoard or e-mail me at: melaniebel@aol.com.

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