Tad
Dimensions' loiterer
~BBW, Mild Sex, Romance - = An FA/BBW coming of age story, of sorts
Part 1
One advantage of going to university seven hours from home is that your family is not always looking over your shoulder. The consequent disadvantage is that things that could have been rolled out gradually at home can become big shocks. Specifically, my little sister’s synchronized skating team was in a competition being held in the town where I went to school. My mom had traveled with them. I was going to watch them, and I was bringing my girlfriend.
To be specific again, I was bringing my fairly new girlfriend, who I’d only been formally dating for less than two months. My first girlfriend, who I had not told my family about yet in case things didn’t work out. My girlfriend, who was a serious gamer geek, and didn’t really see the use activities like figure skating. My girlfriend with the bottle-red buzz-cut, whose dressiest clothes were new blue-jeans and a t-shirt with fantasy art on it. My girlfriend who weighed more than my mother and sister put together, probably with their luggage too.
Riding the bus to the rink, wedged onto the portion of the bus seat that her hips didn’t fill, I considered that maybe I should have said something about Alison further ahead of time, at least my mom. I’d called her earlier that morning and let her know that I was bringing my girl-friend with me, but I’d not told her anything else. My mom is pretty diplomatic, but this was probably going to be quite the shock. Mom had certainly been thrilled to hear that I finally had a girlfriend, but it was not likely that she was expecting someone like Alison.
“So are these skaters all really skinny?” asked Alison, in a less than pleased tone of voice. I wasn’t’ sure if her displeasure was based on general aesthetics, a dislike of athletes, or some degree of insecurity. I supposed there was no reason that it could not be all three.
“As figure skaters go, not really. Singles skaters who are doing jumps need to be as lean as they can be, and female pairs skaters need to be as light as possible for lifts. Synchronized, well, they are still in skating dresses and have to be pretty fit, but they don’t need to be as skinny. Still, most of them are pretty small.”
“I can’t believe you used to be a figure skater, that is so gay.”
“Hey, that isn’t fair. There are more gay guys than average in skating, but plenty of straight ones too. Anyway I got dragged in because with three sisters we were always at the rink anyway, and they always needed more guys for dance and pairs, as partners. It is pretty easy to be in demand if you are a guy in skating.”
“I still think those costumes are ridiculous.”
I took a breath, and bit back my first retort. Alison seemed to be looking for a fight, but I was determined not to give it to her. “Look, you like gaming, most of my family likes figure skating. It is what it is. They have to try and accept who you are, please try to accept who they are.”
“OK. Fine. Are any of the girls you used to skate with on this team?”
“When the synchro team got put together, a lot of the girls who were never going to be top competitors in singles and doubles joined up. My mom mentioned my old dance partner Janice is here, I don’t know who else.”
“Why did she mention that?”
“I don’t know. Look, relax will you? My family is pretty decent, as families go.”
Brooding silence ensued until we got off in front of the rink hosting the competition. As we walked through the doors she said, “The home of perky athleticism—for me it is like walking into the gates of Mordor.”
Normally Alison’s sardonic edge amused me, but at this moment it was just stressing me out. Instead of responding I just said, “Let’s go up to the top seats, you can see the patterns better that way. And it will avoid meeting anyone until afterwards.” When we came out of the lobby and looked up at the twenty rows of seats she looked like she might balk—I know she hated stairs—but she just bit her lip and started clomping up the stairs, perhaps slamming down her construction boots a little more firmly that was required. Due to her bulky, knee length, winter parka I didn’t even get to enjoy the roll of her hips and jiggle of her thighs, except in my imagination.
When we finally slid onto a bench Alison was breathing heavily and her pale skin was flushed. I couldn’t help a flash of lust at this evidence of just how fat and out of shape she was, that a twenty row climb should have her so winded. I wanted to dive into her soft rolls of fat right there and then, but I contented myself with taking her pudgy hand and giving it a squeeze. Then I snuggled a little closer, so that I was pressed against the softness of her hips. Well, at least against the softness of her puffy coat, although I was pretty sure I was snug enough against her to also be pushing against her fat hips. It was kind of exciting that her hips were soft enough that I couldn’t be quite sure where the down-filled jacket ended and the fat filled Alison started.
The competition was not half bad, I thought. But after the third team Alison took a paper back out of her coat pocket and started reading. I’d told her earlier that she could take a book along if she wanted to, but I was disappointed that she’d actually done so, and had resorted to using it so quickly. While the Zamboni was flooding the ice, and Alison was pointedly staying involved in her book, I had time to examine my feelings. I decided that in part I was disappointed that she hadn’t made more of an effort to enjoy the competition. But I knew already she didn’t find this sort of thing interesting, so I shouldn’t feel as irritated as I did. The other part was that I felt she was being rude to the girls skating. Who wants to look up and see a spectator totally ignoring you? That was a lot harder to excuse at first, but when I thought some more I realized that she’d probably been ignored many times by more athletic kids, that in fact she’d probably been sneered at and snubbed actively, so maybe this was sort of a protective behaviour?
As it turned out my sister’s team skated last. Their unison was excellent, but their program was not as original as some of the other groups, and they barely made any use of their highlight skaters, so I didn’t think they’d place too highly. The final scores were up shortly afterwards, and it turned out that they placed third, which I thought they should be pleased about.
“Come on, let’s go down and we can catch them as they come out of the change room.” Alison put her book away reluctantly and followed me down. I was distracted by musings of how I could arrange to sometime get down the stairs first, and watch from the bottom as she bounced and jiggled her way down, so I almost missed it when she announced she had to go to the bathroom. I ended up standing there by the door, almost fuming: couldn’t she have gone during the performances, which she hadn’t been watching anyway?
Finally she was done and we got to the change rooms just as the team was spilling out in a chatting mass of matching blue jackets. The first couple pushed past us, giving sidelong glances at Alison. Then Janice stopped “Rob! What are you doing here?”
“I came to watch—I’m at university here.”
“That’s right, I forgot! I’m applying here, maybe I’ll see you around next year.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so babbled “Would you join the precision team here?”
“Nah, this season is it for me. It takes too much time, and I’ve had enough of 6am practices!”
“Yah, I understand that feeling. I’m glad I’m done.” I realized Alison was standing there, unhappily being left out. So I quickly switched topics. “Janice, this is my girlfriend Alison. Alison, this is Janice, I was her partner for pairs for a few years and dance for a couple after that.”
Janice’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Wow, great to meet you! I’m glad to meet the girl who finally caught Rob’s heart. He’s a good guy.”
Alison looked a bit stunned, like this was not what she’d been expecting, but after a pause she managed “Yah, nice to meet you.”
In turn Janice seemed off balance, expecting more. After the pause stretched out she finally turned to me and said “Are you coming with us all to supper? Oh, Shelly, you didn’t tell me your brother had a girlfriend now!”
My turn to be slow to react, and by the time that I’d figured out that my sister had just come up behind me, she was already asking “Oh, have you met her? Where is she?”
I grabbed Alison’s arm, half turned, and said “Hey brat, she’s right here. Alison, meet Brat, AKA Shelly. Shelly, meet Alison.”
My sister can blush brighter than Rudolph’s nose, and did so. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you, I mean, I saw you, I just didn’t realize you were a girl, your back was turned, and with your coat on, I, uh, sorry.”
I saw a dangerous narrowing of Alison’s eyes, but before I could think of what to say, she drawled out “Sorry for your confusion, I guess you aren’t used to girls without so much make-up.”
My sister’s fingers flew to her face, which was indeed still caked in the heavy make-up used during performances. I reeled from Alison’s open rudeness and hostility, wanting to call her on it, but not in front of others. Janice jumped into the silence. “Wow, bad start by all of us. Can we re-start the music and have a do-over?”
Janice stuck out her hand and continued “Alison, I really am glad to meet you. This is a double surprise for me, I hadn’t known Rob would be here, and I didn’t know that he had a girlfriend, but both are good surprises.” She had a pleading smile on her face.
With a sigh Alison let her shoulders slump, and took the proffered hand. “Thanks, sorry, this is a bit overwhelming I guess. I feel like I’m a crow in the middle of a flock of butterflies.”
My sister had finally recovered her wits, and grabbed Alison’s hand next. “I’m glad to meet you too, really I am, and I love your hair” Turning to Janice, she added “Mom is taking Rob, Alison, and I out to supper, just the four of us. I’ll see you back at the hotel later.”
“Oh.” Janice looked a little disappointed, then brightening she added “Rob, if you have time, why not meet us for breakfast in the morning? The hotel has an awesome breakfast buffet!”
I couldn’t help teasing “They probably thought they’d turn a profit, with a bunch of girls.”
Janice grinned back, then explained to Alison “We are probably more like tent caterpillars than butterflies, with how hard we work we eat a pretty fair amount, especially after competition when we don’t have to worry about our weight so much for a couple of weeks.” As the sentence ended, I could see Janice suddenly realizing that the last remark may not have been very diplomatic when talking to someone as fat as Alison.
I jumped in to add “Off the ice these ‘butterflies’ are about as dainty as sailors.”
Naturally my mother arrived at that point, making me feel bad about my choice of words by her mere presence. She was wearing the smile she pasted on for dealing with strangers, which I always thought made her look slightly manic. Still she slid her way into the conversation smoothly “You must be Alison?” without pausing she continued “I’m Rob’s mom, you can call me Barbara or Mrs. Price, whichever you prefer. We can talk more in the car and at the restaurant, why don’t we get going now, I’m sure everyone is hungry, I know I am.”
I’ll interject here to say that while I may be biased, but I think my mom just looks like the epitome of a mom. She isn’t skinny but she isn’t fat, she dresses neatly but not overly stylishly, her dark hair is some unremarkable medium length and cut which is never really either stylish or unstylish, and generally if you saw her in a crowd you’d probably guess her for someone’s mom. And as mom’s go I’d rate her pretty well. We’ve had our fights of course, but you can’t get too mad at someone as generally reasonable and adaptable as her. And her mom mojo seems to work on others too, I know half my friends used to tell her their problems, and at skating practice people used to turn to her with their problems almost more than the coaches.
Rather to my shock, her mojo even worked on Alison. Shortly we were all loaded into mom’s Golf, Alison in the front seat “to give directions to the restaurant” with no mention of who could more easily fit into the back seat. Really that serves as a model for the rest of the evening. Mom kept things light, treating Alison so nicely that Alison seemed powerless to be difficult about things. A couple of pleasant hours later she dropped us off in front of the townhouse that Alison shared with a couple of other girls, and Alison said “Good-bye Mrs. Price, thank you for the dinner, it was really nice meeting you and Shelley.” She sounded like the wholesome girl next door.
Once we were up in her room I quipped “You know, butterflies is a good description of them, maybe colourful, but no real body on them.”
This was met by her spinning around, looking angry, accusing me “You didn’t tell me that Janice had a crush on you!”
This was obscurely comforting, more familiar than the meek and polite young woman I’d been with for the past couple of hours. “That would be because she doesn’t.”
“Oh Rob, soooo good to see you, oh Rob is soooo wonderful, won’t you come to dinner with us Rob?” she cooed in what I suppose was supposed to be an imitation of Janice’s voice.
I laughed, I couldn’t help it “Oh, I think you are jealous!”
“Not jealous, just pissed! Not nice to spring your old girlfriend on me.”
That was just too much, and I pretty much lost my temper, at least as much as I lose my temper. “OK, look, we were partners in skating for five years, we were together for an hour or two most days of the week, for five whole years. Starting when I was twelve and she was ten. We were kids, and I was around her almost as much as my sister. So she became like a second sister. Getting romantic with her would just feel really wrong, totally aside from the fact that she is all muscle, which as you well know is not my thing. Then I pretty much disappeared from her life when I went to University. She was probably going to either hate me for disappearing, or miss me somewhat, as a friend. And yes, I can be friends with women without trying to get into their pants, especially when they are skinny. On top of all that, I’m pretty sure that she is gay, but she’s never told me she is, so I didn’t want to say anything.”
“I like how your nostrils flare when you are mad.”
“OK, forget, I’ll get going.”
I was actually opening the door before she replied “OK, I get it, I’m a bitch. But you already knew that, and you still wanted me. Nothing has changed. I’m never going to be all nice like your family and friends are. Just because I’m being a bitch doesn’t mean I want you to leave. I just want you to show that you’ll take me as I am.”
So I stayed, and took her as she was (minus a couple of articles of clothing), which probably wasn’t quite what she meant, but it worked well enough for both of us right then.
Story continued in post 5 of this thread
Crows and Butterflies
by Tad
by Tad
Part 1
One advantage of going to university seven hours from home is that your family is not always looking over your shoulder. The consequent disadvantage is that things that could have been rolled out gradually at home can become big shocks. Specifically, my little sister’s synchronized skating team was in a competition being held in the town where I went to school. My mom had traveled with them. I was going to watch them, and I was bringing my girlfriend.
To be specific again, I was bringing my fairly new girlfriend, who I’d only been formally dating for less than two months. My first girlfriend, who I had not told my family about yet in case things didn’t work out. My girlfriend, who was a serious gamer geek, and didn’t really see the use activities like figure skating. My girlfriend with the bottle-red buzz-cut, whose dressiest clothes were new blue-jeans and a t-shirt with fantasy art on it. My girlfriend who weighed more than my mother and sister put together, probably with their luggage too.
Riding the bus to the rink, wedged onto the portion of the bus seat that her hips didn’t fill, I considered that maybe I should have said something about Alison further ahead of time, at least my mom. I’d called her earlier that morning and let her know that I was bringing my girl-friend with me, but I’d not told her anything else. My mom is pretty diplomatic, but this was probably going to be quite the shock. Mom had certainly been thrilled to hear that I finally had a girlfriend, but it was not likely that she was expecting someone like Alison.
“So are these skaters all really skinny?” asked Alison, in a less than pleased tone of voice. I wasn’t’ sure if her displeasure was based on general aesthetics, a dislike of athletes, or some degree of insecurity. I supposed there was no reason that it could not be all three.
“As figure skaters go, not really. Singles skaters who are doing jumps need to be as lean as they can be, and female pairs skaters need to be as light as possible for lifts. Synchronized, well, they are still in skating dresses and have to be pretty fit, but they don’t need to be as skinny. Still, most of them are pretty small.”
“I can’t believe you used to be a figure skater, that is so gay.”
“Hey, that isn’t fair. There are more gay guys than average in skating, but plenty of straight ones too. Anyway I got dragged in because with three sisters we were always at the rink anyway, and they always needed more guys for dance and pairs, as partners. It is pretty easy to be in demand if you are a guy in skating.”
“I still think those costumes are ridiculous.”
I took a breath, and bit back my first retort. Alison seemed to be looking for a fight, but I was determined not to give it to her. “Look, you like gaming, most of my family likes figure skating. It is what it is. They have to try and accept who you are, please try to accept who they are.”
“OK. Fine. Are any of the girls you used to skate with on this team?”
“When the synchro team got put together, a lot of the girls who were never going to be top competitors in singles and doubles joined up. My mom mentioned my old dance partner Janice is here, I don’t know who else.”
“Why did she mention that?”
“I don’t know. Look, relax will you? My family is pretty decent, as families go.”
Brooding silence ensued until we got off in front of the rink hosting the competition. As we walked through the doors she said, “The home of perky athleticism—for me it is like walking into the gates of Mordor.”
Normally Alison’s sardonic edge amused me, but at this moment it was just stressing me out. Instead of responding I just said, “Let’s go up to the top seats, you can see the patterns better that way. And it will avoid meeting anyone until afterwards.” When we came out of the lobby and looked up at the twenty rows of seats she looked like she might balk—I know she hated stairs—but she just bit her lip and started clomping up the stairs, perhaps slamming down her construction boots a little more firmly that was required. Due to her bulky, knee length, winter parka I didn’t even get to enjoy the roll of her hips and jiggle of her thighs, except in my imagination.
When we finally slid onto a bench Alison was breathing heavily and her pale skin was flushed. I couldn’t help a flash of lust at this evidence of just how fat and out of shape she was, that a twenty row climb should have her so winded. I wanted to dive into her soft rolls of fat right there and then, but I contented myself with taking her pudgy hand and giving it a squeeze. Then I snuggled a little closer, so that I was pressed against the softness of her hips. Well, at least against the softness of her puffy coat, although I was pretty sure I was snug enough against her to also be pushing against her fat hips. It was kind of exciting that her hips were soft enough that I couldn’t be quite sure where the down-filled jacket ended and the fat filled Alison started.
The competition was not half bad, I thought. But after the third team Alison took a paper back out of her coat pocket and started reading. I’d told her earlier that she could take a book along if she wanted to, but I was disappointed that she’d actually done so, and had resorted to using it so quickly. While the Zamboni was flooding the ice, and Alison was pointedly staying involved in her book, I had time to examine my feelings. I decided that in part I was disappointed that she hadn’t made more of an effort to enjoy the competition. But I knew already she didn’t find this sort of thing interesting, so I shouldn’t feel as irritated as I did. The other part was that I felt she was being rude to the girls skating. Who wants to look up and see a spectator totally ignoring you? That was a lot harder to excuse at first, but when I thought some more I realized that she’d probably been ignored many times by more athletic kids, that in fact she’d probably been sneered at and snubbed actively, so maybe this was sort of a protective behaviour?
As it turned out my sister’s team skated last. Their unison was excellent, but their program was not as original as some of the other groups, and they barely made any use of their highlight skaters, so I didn’t think they’d place too highly. The final scores were up shortly afterwards, and it turned out that they placed third, which I thought they should be pleased about.
“Come on, let’s go down and we can catch them as they come out of the change room.” Alison put her book away reluctantly and followed me down. I was distracted by musings of how I could arrange to sometime get down the stairs first, and watch from the bottom as she bounced and jiggled her way down, so I almost missed it when she announced she had to go to the bathroom. I ended up standing there by the door, almost fuming: couldn’t she have gone during the performances, which she hadn’t been watching anyway?
Finally she was done and we got to the change rooms just as the team was spilling out in a chatting mass of matching blue jackets. The first couple pushed past us, giving sidelong glances at Alison. Then Janice stopped “Rob! What are you doing here?”
“I came to watch—I’m at university here.”
“That’s right, I forgot! I’m applying here, maybe I’ll see you around next year.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so babbled “Would you join the precision team here?”
“Nah, this season is it for me. It takes too much time, and I’ve had enough of 6am practices!”
“Yah, I understand that feeling. I’m glad I’m done.” I realized Alison was standing there, unhappily being left out. So I quickly switched topics. “Janice, this is my girlfriend Alison. Alison, this is Janice, I was her partner for pairs for a few years and dance for a couple after that.”
Janice’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Wow, great to meet you! I’m glad to meet the girl who finally caught Rob’s heart. He’s a good guy.”
Alison looked a bit stunned, like this was not what she’d been expecting, but after a pause she managed “Yah, nice to meet you.”
In turn Janice seemed off balance, expecting more. After the pause stretched out she finally turned to me and said “Are you coming with us all to supper? Oh, Shelly, you didn’t tell me your brother had a girlfriend now!”
My turn to be slow to react, and by the time that I’d figured out that my sister had just come up behind me, she was already asking “Oh, have you met her? Where is she?”
I grabbed Alison’s arm, half turned, and said “Hey brat, she’s right here. Alison, meet Brat, AKA Shelly. Shelly, meet Alison.”
My sister can blush brighter than Rudolph’s nose, and did so. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you, I mean, I saw you, I just didn’t realize you were a girl, your back was turned, and with your coat on, I, uh, sorry.”
I saw a dangerous narrowing of Alison’s eyes, but before I could think of what to say, she drawled out “Sorry for your confusion, I guess you aren’t used to girls without so much make-up.”
My sister’s fingers flew to her face, which was indeed still caked in the heavy make-up used during performances. I reeled from Alison’s open rudeness and hostility, wanting to call her on it, but not in front of others. Janice jumped into the silence. “Wow, bad start by all of us. Can we re-start the music and have a do-over?”
Janice stuck out her hand and continued “Alison, I really am glad to meet you. This is a double surprise for me, I hadn’t known Rob would be here, and I didn’t know that he had a girlfriend, but both are good surprises.” She had a pleading smile on her face.
With a sigh Alison let her shoulders slump, and took the proffered hand. “Thanks, sorry, this is a bit overwhelming I guess. I feel like I’m a crow in the middle of a flock of butterflies.”
My sister had finally recovered her wits, and grabbed Alison’s hand next. “I’m glad to meet you too, really I am, and I love your hair” Turning to Janice, she added “Mom is taking Rob, Alison, and I out to supper, just the four of us. I’ll see you back at the hotel later.”
“Oh.” Janice looked a little disappointed, then brightening she added “Rob, if you have time, why not meet us for breakfast in the morning? The hotel has an awesome breakfast buffet!”
I couldn’t help teasing “They probably thought they’d turn a profit, with a bunch of girls.”
Janice grinned back, then explained to Alison “We are probably more like tent caterpillars than butterflies, with how hard we work we eat a pretty fair amount, especially after competition when we don’t have to worry about our weight so much for a couple of weeks.” As the sentence ended, I could see Janice suddenly realizing that the last remark may not have been very diplomatic when talking to someone as fat as Alison.
I jumped in to add “Off the ice these ‘butterflies’ are about as dainty as sailors.”
Naturally my mother arrived at that point, making me feel bad about my choice of words by her mere presence. She was wearing the smile she pasted on for dealing with strangers, which I always thought made her look slightly manic. Still she slid her way into the conversation smoothly “You must be Alison?” without pausing she continued “I’m Rob’s mom, you can call me Barbara or Mrs. Price, whichever you prefer. We can talk more in the car and at the restaurant, why don’t we get going now, I’m sure everyone is hungry, I know I am.”
I’ll interject here to say that while I may be biased, but I think my mom just looks like the epitome of a mom. She isn’t skinny but she isn’t fat, she dresses neatly but not overly stylishly, her dark hair is some unremarkable medium length and cut which is never really either stylish or unstylish, and generally if you saw her in a crowd you’d probably guess her for someone’s mom. And as mom’s go I’d rate her pretty well. We’ve had our fights of course, but you can’t get too mad at someone as generally reasonable and adaptable as her. And her mom mojo seems to work on others too, I know half my friends used to tell her their problems, and at skating practice people used to turn to her with their problems almost more than the coaches.
Rather to my shock, her mojo even worked on Alison. Shortly we were all loaded into mom’s Golf, Alison in the front seat “to give directions to the restaurant” with no mention of who could more easily fit into the back seat. Really that serves as a model for the rest of the evening. Mom kept things light, treating Alison so nicely that Alison seemed powerless to be difficult about things. A couple of pleasant hours later she dropped us off in front of the townhouse that Alison shared with a couple of other girls, and Alison said “Good-bye Mrs. Price, thank you for the dinner, it was really nice meeting you and Shelley.” She sounded like the wholesome girl next door.
Once we were up in her room I quipped “You know, butterflies is a good description of them, maybe colourful, but no real body on them.”
This was met by her spinning around, looking angry, accusing me “You didn’t tell me that Janice had a crush on you!”
This was obscurely comforting, more familiar than the meek and polite young woman I’d been with for the past couple of hours. “That would be because she doesn’t.”
“Oh Rob, soooo good to see you, oh Rob is soooo wonderful, won’t you come to dinner with us Rob?” she cooed in what I suppose was supposed to be an imitation of Janice’s voice.
I laughed, I couldn’t help it “Oh, I think you are jealous!”
“Not jealous, just pissed! Not nice to spring your old girlfriend on me.”
That was just too much, and I pretty much lost my temper, at least as much as I lose my temper. “OK, look, we were partners in skating for five years, we were together for an hour or two most days of the week, for five whole years. Starting when I was twelve and she was ten. We were kids, and I was around her almost as much as my sister. So she became like a second sister. Getting romantic with her would just feel really wrong, totally aside from the fact that she is all muscle, which as you well know is not my thing. Then I pretty much disappeared from her life when I went to University. She was probably going to either hate me for disappearing, or miss me somewhat, as a friend. And yes, I can be friends with women without trying to get into their pants, especially when they are skinny. On top of all that, I’m pretty sure that she is gay, but she’s never told me she is, so I didn’t want to say anything.”
“I like how your nostrils flare when you are mad.”
“OK, forget, I’ll get going.”
I was actually opening the door before she replied “OK, I get it, I’m a bitch. But you already knew that, and you still wanted me. Nothing has changed. I’m never going to be all nice like your family and friends are. Just because I’m being a bitch doesn’t mean I want you to leave. I just want you to show that you’ll take me as I am.”
So I stayed, and took her as she was (minus a couple of articles of clothing), which probably wasn’t quite what she meant, but it worked well enough for both of us right then.
Story continued in post 5 of this thread
