Emma hit the horn twice in the driveway, and that roused Lisha from her immobilized state. She was still feeling ecstatic as she skipped her way to the door, not even hesitating as she rushed outside to the car, stark naked. Her friend was smiling and shaking her head, saying, "I figured you'd at least throw SOMETHING on before you came out here! There could be photographers in the bushes!" "Really?" Lisha said. "Well, then -- Hello, boys!" she yelled, striking a pose with her belly pushed out, one hand on her pussy and one finger in her mouth. "You've got some deep-seated problems, young lady," Emma laughed, handing her a couple of the bags from the stores she'd visited. "Yes, I do," Lisha admitted, "and I've decided that I've been keeping them repressed for far too long. So... I'm going to let them ALL out!" "As long as it doesn't involve the police, the military or small mammals -- I guess it'll be safe."

"Small mammals? You're even more twisted than I am! And -- just what the hell did you buy here anyway?" "Hey, you said humongous -- so, I got humongous!" "We're both gonna get humongous if we eat all this stuff!" "Isn't that the point?" Emma asked as she handed the last bag to Lisha and closed the car door with her ample hip.

In the kitchen, Lisha was like a little kid at Christmas, hurriedly emptying each bag until every square inch of flat space was buried in a profusion of fast food. "Where do we start?" she asked. "Anywhere you want," Emma answered, "but you have to wait for me to lose these clothes. When in Rome, y'know." She pulled her t-shirt over her head and Lisha took the opportunity to rush over to her, saying, "Let me help, because I can't wait that long!" Emma giggled as Lisha fumbled with her bra, saying, "You're just as clumsy with this thing as every other person who's ever tried to take it off of me -- don't you wear one yourself?" "Of course I do," Lisha said, "but -- I guess it's the angle or..." The last hook came free, and Emma turned around, displaying her oversized breasts, just inches from Lisha's own.

Neither one said a word, but their eyes were engaged in some silent conversation; their breath became slightly heavier, four breasts rising and falling in unconscious rhythms. Emma was the first to break her gaze away, just as Lisha reached out and touched her friend's shoulders. "Lisha, don't..." Emma said, huskily, but didn't move away. "I should have -- before," Lisha replied. "Yes, you should have. You should have done a lot of things. You should have thought of me. For even a second..."

"I did think of you," Lisha said, sitting down at the food-covered table. "All that night and well into the morning. I couldn't think of anything else, and that scared me. I was ready to throw everything aside -- all the plans I had for my life and my career, all the opportunities that were starting to come about -- I was ready to give it all up and plunge into a life with you, only... Only I couldn't see what that life would be. It was blackness and unknown -- as if you were standing on one rooftop and I was standing on another and all I had to do was leap across that dark chasm above a deserted alley to be with you -- and that danger scared me more than the thought of you thrilled me. I couldn't do it, so I ran away. I despised myself for it, and I haven't stopped. Until now. Emma -- I know what I want..."

"Yes," Emma said, pausing for effect, then saying, "I know what you want, too.You want lunch! A humongous lunch!" She raised her eyebrows and smirked, saying, "Got you back!" "What's wrong with us? Why can't we talk about something serious?" "Hey -- look around you. This is a SERIOUS straight-into-dinnertime lunch!" "C'mon, Emma..." "Look," Emma replied, "this conversation has waited three nearly years to happen -- it can certainly wait until we finish all this food and get ourselves in the gastronomic hall of fame. And besides -- what you're looking for is forgiveness; I forgave you a long time ago. If I hadn't, Lisha Babe, I wouldn't be here. And I certainly wouldn't be telling you that I'm gonna wipe the floor with your skinny little butt in the Great Burrito Race!"

Lisha couldn't help laughing as Emma did a silly touchdown dance which had all of her backfield -- and her front field -- in non-stop motion. "Okay," she said. "Challenge accepted. Bring on the burritos!" And without further ado, they got down to business, plowing through burritos and burgers and fried chicken and roasted chicken and french fries and onion rings and egg rolls and roast beef sandwiches and meatball heroes. They made funny faces at each other in an attempt to get the other to laugh, took turns grabbing food from the other's plate, had a donut hole catch with mouths wide open. They had a competition to see who could fit the most food in their mouth without swallowing, and then another contest to determine who was faster at chugging down an entire strawberry shake. And when they'd made a significant dent in the massive quantities of food, they helped each other maneuver their abused bodies into the living room, where they stretched out in the twin recliners like old hounds and a sweltering day.

"Oh my god," Lisha said, "I must be pregnant, because there's no way that all of this --" she stroked the stretched skin of her swollen belly --"could possibly be just food!" In reply, Emma let out a great long belch which left the both of them in hysterics, holding their bellies as they laughed. When she'd finally caught her breath, Lisha moaned, "Ohhhhh... whatever you do: don't do that again. Or I'm gonna lose it for sure!" Neither one of them moved for a while, remaining silent, as if they needed to concentrate on the process of digesting the food in their stomachs. Eventually, Lisha broke the silence, saying, "I was thinking about Camp Lessamee..." "Are you still worried about that? They're not going to find out." "Well, that's just it: I think I want them to find out." "Well, then just tell someone."

Lisha tsk-ed at her friend, saying, "You really don't know anything about this stuff, do you? You can't just tell the tabs -- they're the enemy. If you want them to know something, you've gotta find a way to leak it to them." "So, what about an anonymous letter?" "I was thinking about that, but then I started thinking -- why not just pretend to be a stringer-reporter and give them the whole story. Charge them for it, too, and then do something good with the money, like charity or something. The only thing we'd need would be a picture, but when I moved out of my parents' house, I took all the pictures of me from when I was a kid and when I was fat and I burned them out in LA." "Why'd you do that?" "I thought I was done with being fat and I didn't want any evidence. The high school yearbook is no good because by the time we graduated, I was down to 130 pounds -- and there really weren't any good pictures of me anyway."

"Well, I didn't burn all my pictures," Emma said. "In fact --" she heaved herself out of the chair and ran into the kitchen, holding her stomach, all of her glorious blubber jiggling madly; she returned a moment later with her wallet, opening it up and digging through the compartments. "When I hated you for dumping me, I put this picture of me and you in those hideous matching pink one-pieces -- taken right before we went to Lessamee -- into my wallet, figuring I'd get some revenge. Y'know, if someone asked me if I knew you, I'd say, 'Yes, we were best friends. Here's a picture to prove it.' But -- don't worry -- no one asked and even if they did, I'd probably have been too guilty to go through with it. Ahhh! Here it is!" She glanced at it for a moment, before handing it to her friend, saying, "This oughta be sufficient!"

Lisha took the picture from her friend and stared at it for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. "Wow! I really was HUGE! And -- in those bathing suits -- we look like the dancing hippos from 'Phantasia'!" The picture showed the two girls side-by-side, inside arms around each other's shoulders, their other arms outstretched in a 'here-we-are' kind of gesture. Both girls' large breasts stood up firmly; Lisha's nipples were hard and seemed ready to burst through the thin fabric, while the outline of Emma's areolae were clearly discernible. The differences in their body-types became a little more apparent as her eyes moved down the picture: Lisha's belly was extremely round and fat and rippled with cellulite, the impression of it's softness made even more apparent by the pink fabric straining to contain her bulk, her body widening gently into proportionate hips and chunky thighs; Emma had a noticeable waistline despite a substantial belly, but most of her weight was carried in the exaggerated flare of her enormous hips and the loose flabbiness of her saddlebags and puffy inner thighs.

"Damn, it's hard to tell who was fatter!" Lisha said. "I'm pretty sure I was," Emma said. "Because -- don't you remember -- you'd started dieting like two months before we went to camp." "That's right! I'd forgotten. I was 236 when I got to camp, but I'd probably lost like fifteen pounds before we went, so I was probably about 250 at my heaviest." "I don't think I ever got much bigger than that, either, " Emma said. "But, I know I was over 240 when we went to camp -- probably a week after these pictures. I haven't been that heavy again since, but -- after a couple of days with you..."

"The only problem I can see with this picture," Lisha said, still studying the evidence of her former obesity, "is that, there's no way we can avoid having you in the picture. I mean -- I'm used to being on newspapers, but, you..." "Don't worry. When I get to my computer at home, I can pixellate my face or something -- maybe even crop myself out." "We don't have to wait till you get home," Lisha said. "Stephen's got this great machine set up here. Scanner and color printer and digital camera and everything. I was doing some net surfing yesterday and this morning." "You?" Emma said in surprise. "You're computer literate?" "Well," Lisha said defensively, "I'm no code jockey or anything, but I'm not totally clueless, either! I do the e-mail thing and I know my way around a PC -- I've even been working on putting together a home-page!" "I had no idea!" Emma said. "Why didn't you ever e-mail me or anything?" "Why would I, when I can talk to you on the phone?" "You've got a point, there," she answered, laughing a little at her impracticality, then saying, "Well, why don't we go look at this machine of his and see what we can do!"

Emma sat down at the computer, groaning as the straight-backed chair compressed her gorged stomach, but forgetting all about her discomfort when she moved the mouse and saw the display of tabloid photos still in the web-browser window. "Wow! They really have been dogging you! I didn't see half of these! You look like you're going to eat that whole pie in this one," she said, pointing to one of the pictures. "Well, I didn't, but I might as well have, from the shot they printed!" "So why do you scan all these pictures in if you don't like them?" "I didn't! This is some web site where they've got all kinds of stuff about fat women -- they've got this feature about 'Future Fatsos' -- and someone nominated me!" "Well, obviously, they were right on the mark," Emma said, giving Lisha a playful spank on her chunky butt, then stroking her gently in the same spot. A little chill went up Lisha's spine at her friend's soft caress.

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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