Buy Local by ec (~BBW, ~BHM, ~~WG, URBAN LEGEND)

[elroycohen]

A college student out of his big city element learns of local folklore that is right up his alley.

Buy Local by ec​

People are seldom looking to make new friends at midnight in an adult bookstore, but luckily for me Sid was an exception to that rule. I did not know his name at the time and did not recognize him as the cook from the local diner, so I paid him no mind as he walked back and forth among the magazines that featured women with exceptional large rear ends. For some reason that night he was dead set on letting me, a freshman attending the small town’s college, in on a little local secret. I’m sure glad he did.

I barely recognized him even though I had been to the diner quite a few times. Not that I would have thought to say anything to him had I been more observant. I was still mostly a cynical New Yorker even though it was nearing the end of my first year of school at the small town. I’m pretty sure it was when Sid noticed me looking at a magazine devoted to women with larger then average posteriors he started to make small talk.

“Hey what are you doing in a place like this? Haven’t I seen you around with a cute redhead?”

Now Sid did not really seem drunk, but having a stranger comment on my girlfriend was bordering on creepy. However my college was in a tiny little farm town so to have somebody recognize me, even if it was when I was gawking at a picture of a women with 58 inch hips did not catch off guard too much.

“Uh, yeah…you probably have.”

There was a silence as if he was expecting more.

“She’s studying for a test, and I…well,” I looked at the magazine sheepishly. “I’m a political science major.”

He did not seem to get the joke. I had a feeling the closest thing Sid had to a major were the skin mags lining the magazines racks in the store.

“Red’s got a big butt herself. If I may say so,” he gestured to my reading material that happened to be titled Big Butts. “And from what I know about this town I bet it’s been getting bigger since she started college in this town.”

The guy still did not seem drunk, but creepy was getting ever closer.

“She has enjoyed her fair share of beer and pizza this year...”

I finally realized he was from the diner.

“…As well as great breakfasts from your place,” I stammered, hoping a compliment would help him go away faster.

The stranger just stared at me.

“Freshman fifteen and all that, you know,” I was just babbling to end the awkward silence.

He chuckled. “You probably think it’s just a coincidence that the entire freshman fifteen seems to be going right her ass.”

“To be honest I hadn’t put a whole lot of thought into it.”

The statement was not entirely true, as a man who likes pear shaped women I thought quite a bit about how the pants she wore back at the beginning of the year were noticeably tighter.

“No need to hide it from me. I can see in your taste of reading material you’re a man after my own heart. Hell I noticed you encouraging your girl to get the lumberjack breakfast and offering her some of yours after she finishes that. You just keep bringing her to my diner and make sure she gets stuff that has pork in it,” he whispered. “I make sure to get my pork from a very special local hog farm.”

I stepped back a little. “Oh I get it. Thanks I’ll do that.” I noticed for the first time he was carrying a stack of magazines dedicated to big bottomed women. “As much as she likes to eat and drink beer I don’t think she’ll need much help. Thanks though.”

He did not let up, moving in even closer then before. “I don’t think you understand. The feed they give the hogs at the Miller hog farm…” he looked around. “It has a definite effect on females. If you no what I’m saying.”

I thought about saying yes just to get him out of my face, but instead. “No, not really.”

“It’s safe, but…” he held a one of his magazines showing a woman with thighs buried beneath gobs of blubber. “But not safe, if you know what I mean.”

I feigned a moment of clarity in hopes of ending the conversation. “Oh my God, I do get it. Thank you so much.”

“No I don’t think you do man. I mean because everyone knows eating lots of hog will put meat on a woman’s bones, but this stuff from down on Miller’s farm is special. For women it’s three times as fattening as normal pork and every last calorie that a woman consumes only shows up as fat below the waist.”

My first thought was that it was a Midwest thing. Maybe my east coast roots were easy to spot and my overly friendly acquaintance was just explaining the virtues of wholesome meat-and-potatoes women.

But he went further into detail.

“Plenty of local restaurants get their pork from Miller’s farm, but if you really want push things along you can go to the meat market down on main and have Robbie package you up some of the special pork. On a girl like red you could have her hips brushing door frames in no time.”

I tried to look excited. “I’ll get right on that.”

I was happy when he finally backed off and wished me luck. The crazy thing was I almost believed the guy. Or at least wanted to. The truth was I a man after his own heart. The thought of my girlfriend’s already large backside getting bigger was very intriguing.

Now I went a whole week with that incident residing near the back of my thoughts. I would watch my girlfriend, Ella, order a sausage biscuit and wonder to myself if it contained some of the special local pork the crazy man had spoke of. Then my mind would wander to something else.

Then one morning Ella suddenly had an urge to go out to breakfast to his diner. She was pretty determined despite my initial balking so twenty minutes later I was cautiously following Ella into the diner, looking around for mister creepy.

To her it probably did not seem odd, since I usually followed behind her mostly to admire her luscious backside.

Eight months prior when we met at class registration day she had been buying size 14 dresses that fit around her rump like a glove and having them taken in up top to about a size 6. When I saw her snacking on a candy bar and getting winded just walking from registration table to registration table I knew she was physically my type of lady; a large bottomed, out of shape one with a tendency to snack. I don’t know what her weight was exactly, but by my best estimate she was carrying a substantial, but not excessively heavy 160 pounds on her 5’-4” frame. Eight months of fast food, partying and no exercise had her barely able to pull her emergency size 16 over her ass.

That morning as I watched her slide her big rear into a booth, I thought about its recent expansion I started to realize just how much of the stuff she had eaten actually had pork in it; sausage pizza, breakfast burritos, breakfast biscuits.

She had eaten a lot of pig and more then a fair amount of her added freshman poundage had gone below her beltline. Could there have been something to the ramblings of the guy from the bookstore. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

I was just shaking the thought out of my head when the man who had put it in there in the first place was standing over our table setting Ella’s lumberjack breakfast down in front of her. It looked to have a few extra pieces of bacon and sausage piled up next to the pancakes.

“Enjoy your breakfast. We only use pork from local pigs for our bacon and sausage and believe me you can tell the difference,” he beamed at Ella, who smiled back and thanked him.

He gave me a knowing wink and then disappeared back into the kitchen. I was too frozen to even wink back. He seemed a little less creepy in the light of day at a public place, but seeing him again rattled me for a moment. Then I started to think about what he said a little more. I mean it was one thing if he had been buzzed in the bookstore looking at dirty magazines and fabricated the story of “special pork” in his head and shared it with the poor sap that happened to be standing next to him. Now, however it was a week later and odds were the guy was not drunk at his workplace, but was still yammering on about the local pigs. It struck me that even if the fable was not true the man really believed his own story.

I looked around. If what the guy claimed was true then in a place like the diner that was a local hangout there should be more big bottomed women then I could count.

There was not. Don’t get me wrong, being in a small Midwestern town there more then a few people who got their pants from plus sized stores, but really only one who could be considered disproportionately larger in her lower half.

The thing was the person was the waitress. Her ass stuck out a good foot behind her and the inside of massive thighs made a moist slapping sound as she made her way from table to table.

I don’t think I was convinced yet, but seeing as how the one person in the place who most likely ate a good deal of her meals with a side of the eccentric cook’s pork had an ass that would need two of the stools from the diner’s counter to rest her massive cheeks certainly made the guy’s comments resonate a little more.

Looking at Ella as she covered her sausages in syrup, rolled them around in hash browns to coat them, wrapped them in pancakes and then dipped them in more syrup before eating them, I figured to myself her ass was going to get bigger during her time at college, but it most likely was going to be from her appetite more so then any magic bacon.

Having said that I will go on to say that after that breakfast in the diner I did try and make sure that Ella was I were eating at places that advertised as having only locally raised pork.

I should probably mention here that even before I was privy to the Miller’s pork rumor I was making sure my girlfriend’s diet had plenty of high calorie items. I openly encouraged pigging out at meals and snacking in between them.

You see I definitely liked my girlfriends fat and happy. I think it was a hereditary thing. I really do. My dad worked at a bakery and from as far back as I can remember brought home the day old pastries and breads from his shop home to mom. She was always excited for him to come home and he was smiling ear to ear as he watched her enjoy the baked goods he hand made. The was no coming home late from work or anything like that and my mom was always there to greet him and I truly think it was because of their bond over food. In other words I think I related fat and happy to a good marriage.

Of course my mom was somewhere over 350 pounds by the time I left for school thanks to a diet of daily carbs and sugar, but I think you get what I’m trying to say.

Anyway, so there’s my admission that I very much encouraged Ella’s already big appetite. I slowly added to her meals when I could, Encouraging her to get the larger value meal and even a shake when we went out. Soon the burger-and-fry-for-lunch girl was a double-bacon-cheeseburger-jumbo-fry-apple-pie-vanilla-milkshake-for-lunch girl.

A few months after dating me anything less then six slices of pizza and four slices of cheese bread was just a snack for her.

I also learned quite early on in our relationship that she had a sweet tooth. By the time we had been going out two months I knew that if there was a box of Oreos in my cupboard when she came over for movie night it would be gone halfway through the second movie.

I also learned that if I had a box of mini-doughnuts anywhere in the house, Ella would find them when she woke up after spending the night. Even if I had hidden it as a breakfast for me later.

I even convinced her to give up on diet soda and water in favor of regular soda and juice.

Even with her naturally large appetite the lovely Ella was surprised after a few months of going out with me how much she was eating. She would always mention it in the middle of a meal. Almost as if she was testing the waters to see if her gorging bothered me. Although I’m not sure why she would have even the slightest inkling that it would bother me, since by that time I was the one making sure we never left a restaurant without dessert.

After I learned of the locally raised pork it was not hard to work more pig into the food loving Ella’s diet. Double sausage and pepperoni on all our pizzas and a few extra stops at the diner for a bar time breakfasts helped a lot.

Now before some of you start getting judgmental on me I should have you know the best way I found to encourage gluttony in others is to lead by example. Nothing makes a person feel less self-conscious about their overeating then the person they are with doing the exact same thing.

Secondly nothing alleviates a person’s worry that they may have already gained the freshman fifteen less then midway through the school year then their boyfriend lifting up his shirt to reveal a roll of flesh hanging over his snug-fitting pants and hearing him say. “It’s our first year of college. We’re supposed to let loose.”

True enough, if the rumor of pork from Miller’s farm having an effect of women who ate it had yet to be proven at that time, the myth of lots of frosty cold brews going straight to a man’s gut was proven by my example pretty early on.

I think it made Ella feel less self-conscious seeing my gut start peeking out from some of my smaller t-shirts. The thing was I think if anyone was self-conscious of added weight it was me. Ella knew my mouth watered over her big butt and she flaunted it out on the dance floor when we went out. I was less sure of the appeal of my rounding belly and sucked it in whenever I thought of it.

It was a little over a month after I saw the guy at the adult bookstore that my first year of college ended.

Now no matter how strong my physical attraction was for Ella and no matter how comfortable she was with me, there was most certainly more then that for us to have lasted through our freshman year of college as a couple without even so much as a break.

It may have seemed at first that we were a case of opposites attracting. I was a jaded, cynical New Yorker and she was a wholesome Midwesterner. That would have been fine, but as we got to know each other more it became evident we were very similar. I was not as near as cynical as I probably should have been and Ella could get out and party with the best of them.

She was kind of protective of me when women would talk to me at the bars, no matter how platonic they acted. I kind of liked a bit of jealousy in a woman.

I on the other hand was not the jealous type. So when guys would come up to her (and believe me, chubby or not, her ass attracted attention), I did not fly off the handle.

So Ella and I lasted as boyfriend girlfriend to the summer. When our freshman year ended not a lot changed in our relationship. We were still in the madly in lust phase that probably should have run out, but didn’t. Because of our personal situations we got to see each other over the summer even more then we did during the school year.

She went back home, but back home was just forty miles away a few towns over. She liked seeing her parents but got a summer job back on campus so she could spend time with me.

I was spending the summer on campus because my parents used the summers to roll around the country in their RV. Plus since I was footing most of the bill for college myself I needed to find full time work.

I wish for the sake of this boring section of the story that I got a job at a bakery and got to bring free stuff to Ella every day. In truth I found work at the car wash. My sweating out in the hot sun drying off cars did not help add to Ella’s rear any but it lessoned my gut a tad and gave me a fairly impressive set of shoulders.

Ella did not need help getting sweets anyway. The job she got was at an ice cream parlor. I made sure when I stopped by to pick her up at the end of the day I treated her and myself to a cone. This was after a day where I’m sure she sampled her fair share during her shift anyway.

She got plenty of the local pig products as well. More so just from habit then my conscious effort to test the crazy cook’s wild claim.

In fact the thought was so far in the back recesses of my mind it surprised me when it suddenly jumped to the forefront during a conversation with Ella.

She was at the tiny little apartment I had gotten for the summer. We had spent the morning in bed. She had a thing about intimacy. Just about anything was fair game as long as she kept her underwear on. Yes she had a thing about premarital sex. I know it sounds pretty restrictive, but I never complained a bit.

She had no problem stripping me naked. Ella had even less qualms about giving oral sex. I think she loved to feel in control, and with her long red hair brushing the front of my thighs as her plump lips worked up and down she certainly was. Her head would bob and her back would arch low (making her belly seem fuller), coming up into giant pale hill of her jiggling rump. I was lucky to stay lucid enough to give her warning.

But I digress. On the day I was describing she was simply in the mood to tease. She would let things progress to a point and then push me aside to watch television or say she was hungry.

I took out my sexual frustration by giving her anything fattening I had in my apartment, even making sure to reheat some leftover Chinese that had some of the locally raised pork in it.

Finally she had to get to work. She got out of bed and grabbed a pair of khaki shorts she wore to serve ice cream cones.

Summer was two thirds over by that point and two months of eating more calories in ice cream per day then most people eat total made the shorts that had fit back in May slide up over her hips a little tougher.

Spending almost every day with her I had barely noticed, but something about that morning when she bent over to pull up her shorts and her wide, pale hips spread out even wider I realized somewhere over the summer she graduated from chubby to fat.

“My mom warned me what going to college in this town does a woman,” she whined. “And look at me I fell into the trap anyway.”

I was so horny I was mostly just watching the shorts dig into her wide dimpled hips as she tugged. “Huh,”

“She told me her years going to this college is the reason she can’t fit into cars with bucket seats.”

Ella broke from her effort to pull up her shorts to go over to her purse and pull out a picture from her wallet. “I don’t let guys see my mom much, because it has been known to scare a guy off. I guess that’s why I haven’t had you over yet,” she handed me the photo. “You seem less likely to be bothered by it, hell you’re mostly the reason I can’t get these pants on, you’re such a bad influence,” she winked. “So I guess there’s no harm in showing you.”

In the photo was a massively obese redhead, whose thighs alone were twice as wide as the man she stood next to. Bloated feet engulfed a well worn pair of sandals. Thick rolls of fat covered her ankles completely. Hips jutted out into polyester covered shelves of bulk that themselves had gobs of fat that jutted out and hung down. A waterfall of belly flesh cascaded down over the woman’s crotch into a rounded triangle with the point somewhere about mid-thigh.

I tried to stifle my amazement. “You say college did this to her.”

“Yes. Well, our college did that to her. Well no, our college gave her the big ass she says. Her excuse for her belly is having me. She has an excuse for everything,” Ella explained. “She has a few pictures of her from high school that show her pretty thin. She tells me she was on the track team and all that.” Ella rolled her eyes as if she only half believed the second part herself. “Anyway she says it was four years at this college that gave her legs so fat she has cellulite on her calves, and an ass so big she can’t squeeze into the stalls in most public bathrooms.”

Suddenly I was very interested. “How could college be blamed for that?”

Ella shook her head. “She claims it’s something in the water. But she lives just a few towns over and hasn’t drunk the water for as long as I can remember and hasn’t lost a bit of weight, so I think it’s just an excuse not to diet.”

Ella had gone back to pulling up her shorts. She had fought them up as high as they were going to go and with a deep breath they got fastened. The hem dug into her legs, making her already thick thighs look even beefier.

Her belly that was a good size despite the fact that her wide hips dwarfed it spilled over the top of the waist.

Ella looked herself over in the mirror after throwing on her teal polo and shrugged. “I at least know better then to blame it on some tainted water. I’m fully aware what I eat is why I’m not a petite little twig, even if I don’t have the willpower to do anything about it. Or at least I thought that was the reason. With as fat as I’ve got in just one year maybe there is something to what mom rambles on about. I guess if I listened to her and went to state instead of here maybe these size 22’s wouldn’t be so snug.”

Snug was an understatement. I feared for the button if she tried to bend over.

My head was spinning with the sudden realization that the wild claims from the guy at the adult bookstore might by true. Ella’s mom may have been on the right track, but limiting her tap water intake would not have helped if she were still indulging in chops at the local diner. Suddenly I realized I was lying there with my jaw hanging open and stuttered the first thing that came into my head. “You don’t drink that much water though.”

Ella walked over the bed where I was still buried under the sheets. “Well I have a theory that a certain person I hang out with a lot who likes to do his grocery shopping at McDonald’s might have something to do with it,” she smiled and shrugged. “I’m not too worried since you’re stuck with me.”

Sensing her moment of self-consciousness was past I playfully returned. “Oh stuck, am I?”

She was ready and whipped the covers off my naked form. “With the beer gut you getting you’d have to hit the gym before getting back out into the singles scene, slim.”

She reached down and pinched my love handle. Then she moved up and squeezed a soft pec. “Those man-boobs are coming in nicely too.”

She was right of course; even with more activity in the form of car washing my calorie intake was plenty ahead. But even had I still possessed my thirty inch waist I wasn’t about to complain about her widening ass at all. In fact after she left I decided to go down the local meet market and investigate a little further the theory that I had might have been underestimating.

Rob’s Meat Shop was an interesting contrast between the shop front and the man who worked inside. The shop itself looked to be right out of a painting by Norman Rockwell. It had all the small town charm that appeared untouched by modern supermarkets and department stores.

The man inside behind the counter, however, looked more stereotypical of a slasher film villain then a wholesome small town clerk. Somewhere around six and half feet tall and three feet thick the butcher, Robbie, was clad in an apron that probably at one time was white. Currently the yellow stains under his arms were the least disturbing thing about the uniform. Bloodstains were everywhere. There were even chunks of meat hanging off his wardrobe in places.

He had kind of a vacant gaze that locked onto me as soon as I walked in that would have made just asking for a pound of ground round hard, much less asking for some special pork I had only heard of from I guy I met at a porn shop.

“I had heard,” I started only to chicken out and start again. “You wouldn’t happen to have,” no maybe I could word it more subtly.

As I fumbled big Rob spoke up. “You lookin’ for some of the pork from Miller’s farm.”

That sounded right. “Yes please.”

He walked over to a cooler behind the counter and started pulling out neatly wrapped packages.

“I seen you around town with your woman. I figured you’d be coming around asking sooner or later.”

He slapped the paper packages down next to a cash register and started to ring them up.

Slightly unnerved that yet another strange local was eyeing up my girlfriend I tried to appear calm.

“Who told you? Was it Sid?” Rob’s voice was gruff but his tone seemed relatively friendly.

“Uh, does Sid work at the Diner off highway 12?”

For the first time a smile cracked big Rob’s face. “Yeah, that’s him. The way he’s going he’s going to tell every college kid that shows up in town.”

The smile eased the mood enough for me to ask a few of my questions. “So what’s in this stuff that makes it do what it does?”

Rob’s smile got a little bigger, exposing a couple teeth behind his chapped lips. “Hell, if I knew that I’d be selling bottles of the stuff up and down the state. Fact is not even the Millers know exactly what does it. They don’t put nothing fancy in the feed. They just played around with different mixes of stuff. They don’t tell no one exactly, but I hear rumors of stale snack cakes and soy powder. Who knows really? Anyway they came up with a combination that the pigs would eat until they couldn’t stand up on they own no more. Not just fat either these pigs are all meat.”

To demonstrate Ron tore open a package off the counter. Even if I knew what piece of meat I was looking at I had no idea what to look for, but I tried to look as if I understood.

“Anyway they fed all their hogs this special feed year after year and raked in boatloads of money, all the while they’re feeding their family off these prize hogs they raise. It’s not until a few years of living off the huge hogs go by and the Miller twin girls’ asses get so big they can’t fit behind the counter at the drug store where they work no more and momma Miller wedges her ass between the armrests of their couch at home that they realize the connection. Unlike the pigs the Miller girl’s had no muscle on their rumps. It was all thick layers of heavy fat.”

“So what’d they do?” I asked.

Rob’s smile opened up to expose all three of his yellow teeth. “Start charging more for their hogs.”

Big Rob demonstrated that for me as well, by ringing up the order.

Looking at the unmarked packages I had no idea what I was buying, but after a story like that I was going to pay whatever he wanted to have the opportunity to start making Miller style pork chops for Ella.

Big Rob had one last smile for me before I walked out. “I seen that girl of yours eat,” he handed me a bag of what had to be over twenty pounds of pork. “You better save some of your money for bigger pants for her.”

 

[elroycohen]

 

[elroycohen]

 

[Novelist]

 

[chicken legs]

 

[Tad]

 

[elroycohen]