billypilgrim
Member
Suspense/thriller, BBW
"Drive" by MrWrong1
(This was from a prompt, thanks to the Weekly Weigh-In writers group. It's been a big hit on my DA page, my most popular story yet. Not sure why but I've stopped trying to understand these things. Anyway as one of very few stories I've written that doesn't violate Dims' guidelines, I thought I'd post it here. There are two parts only due to length, the story is meant to be read continuously.)
---
“Sorry I made a fuss,” the passenger gasped, swallowing the last word. She was a very, very large woman and the car rocked from side to side as she dragged her huge backside across the seat.
“No, I get it,” the driver told her, before closing the door. “It’s the company’s fault — they should have sent you a message.”
“Pardon?” he asked. He’d missed what she said as he walked back around to the front and got inside.
“This is a nice upgrade,” she said.
“Least they could do.”
“I still prefer you guys to Uber or whatever. You never know what kind of car you’ll get. Or who you’ll get.”
“That’s true,” the driver said.
“Last time — and I mean the last time — I called Uber some dude showed up in a Civic. I mean…”
“Little more AC?”
“Yes, please.”
He turned the dial to the right and then snuck a peek of her dabbing her damp forehead with a sodden tissue. Goddamn she was fat, maybe the biggest yet though given how she was built the largest part of her was hidden now. Anyway he’d seen plenty, the way she toddled as she walked. Cute, slightly cartoonish, but clearly struggling with her heft. He loved that word — heft. How she had to squeeze herself into the backseat.
She had short hair but a feminine style. A pixie, he believed it was called. She was a little overdressed for the season in baggy black pants and a long, burgundy cowl neck top. Fat lady clothes had a certain look to them, not just scaled-up versions. Her cheeks were rosy in the dim globe light and she was still breathing heavily, long after she’d settled, her lips open slightly like she was going to start whistling. Her face was somewhat narrow for her size, but she had a fat double chin that dangled down halfway to her chest and quivered with every tiny movement.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes, I can feel it now,” she said. She inhaled deeply and with palpable relief, drinking in the cool air.
“It is pretty hot out there.”
“Awful… I’m really not built for it.”
Did she really say that? Yeah she did, he’d heard it loud and clear. Some big women were self-deprecating when they got nervous, a way to defuse the issue preemptively. He checked his side mirrors and pulled out onto Pimlico Road, traffic-free at that hour. It was a smooth maneuver but she bobbled a bit in her seat nonetheless, on account of all that cushion under her. The driver licked his lips.
“One-oh-one Carleton Place,” he recited from his screen, once they were moving. “Greenville?”
“Yes it is. Home sweet home.”
“Is it?”
“I like it.”
He heard a bing, her phone.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“Of course.”
She didn’t say anything after that and he realized she was reading a text.
“Oh damn,” she sighed.
“What’s that?”
“Do you mind making a pitstop?”
The driver did — very much so. But how could he refuse?
“Where at?” he inquired, with just enough edge in his voice where she might say forget it.
“The ABC?” She said it as if suggesting rather than outright asking. “It’s on the way, sort of.”
“Where… I mean, what for?”
It was a wine and liquor store, he knew what for.
“I mean, sure,” he said quickly.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. Rough day?”
The little joke had her smiling, the driver relaxing again.
“Yeah, kinda was. Though I don’t drink actually, it was a request from my friend.”
“Friend is staying with you?”
“She lives there,” she said, after a slight hesitation.
Too many questions.
“Anyway yeah, it’s on the way,” he said. Though before the turn-off for Turtle Hill, though. Which was not ideal.
“Thanks.”
“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “Thing is, I saw some kinda road crew there earlier tonight — Southeast Edison, I think. They had Pine Road all dug up, the part leading up to the store, and it didn’t look like they were gonna be finished anytime soon. You mind if I take a little detour, go around it?”
“No, that’s fine,’ she said. “Whatever you think is best.”
“Okay, thanks. Feeling good back there?”
“Nice and cool, yes,” she said, and she did look cooler when he glanced back at her. Though he preferred her sweaty.
“Little music?”
“Whatever you’d like.”
He put on WCGC, the light rock station. The Eagles were playing, “Tequila Sunrise.”
“You seem familiar,” she said.
The driver gripped the wheel like he was trying to choke it.
“That right?”
“I don’t know from where.”
“I get that a lot,” he said, though he hardly ever did. “I’m pretty sure I never drove you anywhere.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t.”
He was about ready to forget about it, drive her to the damn ABC and onward to Greenville. Take his tip, go home and try another day, with another woman. He ground his teeth with the disappointment of it. She was so damn fat and damn near perfect otherwise. And she was there, right there. It was no small thing setting it up in the first place. His heart sank, thinking about having to start from scratch again.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said.
“This is kind of weird.”
“So am I.”
He smiled and she smiled back. Nice teeth. That was important to him.
“Have you ever driven a woman who was bigger than me?”
His next breath caught in his throat. She giggled, cheeks going rosy again, jiggling that second chin of hers.
“What kind of a question…” he tried to laugh then coughed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I asked.”
He recovered, smiling again. The honest answer, and likely the most flattering one was Yes.
“Yes, I have.”
“Okay then,” she said, satisfied. Maybe relieved? Though she didn't seem to lack self-confidence. At all. “Told you it was weird.”
He was rock-hard now but with his dick in a weird configuration, bunched up against his fly. They were stopped at a red light at the intersection of County Road 20 so he took the opportunity to reach into his pants and adjust himself. She couldn’t see the act itself but he knew the movements would look odd anyway. Nothing he could do about it.
The light went green and he made sure the intersection was clear before he went through it. Especially at that time of night, people driving like they were the only folks left on earth. Maybe it was his imagination but he thought he could feel her weight as he accelerated, that little hesitation, like her fat had its own inertia.
“What was she like?”
The driver resisted the urge to say Who, shifting in his seat. He knew who. He looked at his passenger in the rearview mirror, she was smiling.
No way, he thought. This kind of thing only happened in porn. Or his fantasies. No, his fantasy was something different. Someone’s fantasy.
“She was blonde,” the driver told her, waiting til after Don Felder finished his guitar solo. “About your age.”
“Pear-shaped like me, or big all over?”
He drummed his fingers on the wheel. Roll with it.
“Big all over, I guess,” he said.
He passed the turn for Turtle Hill. Fuck. But he’d told her they were taking a detour, another chance. He consulted the map in his head and moved into the right lane.
“You didn’t forget my pitstop, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, no. In fact it’s six and one half dozen, really, how we approach the place so let’s see if that crew is finished.”
“Alright,” she said.
He had another idea now, and though he didn’t like to do things on the fly the reward seemed worth the risk. What it was all about, really. The rush of adrenaline, diving into the unknown was its own foreplay. Plus he was curious now about her friend, the one she lived with. Something told him she’d be a big’un too. That’s what his daddy called them — big’uns.
He glanced at the rearview, realizing he’d pulled the brake prematurely on her previous inquiries, about Diane.
"Drive" by MrWrong1
(This was from a prompt, thanks to the Weekly Weigh-In writers group. It's been a big hit on my DA page, my most popular story yet. Not sure why but I've stopped trying to understand these things. Anyway as one of very few stories I've written that doesn't violate Dims' guidelines, I thought I'd post it here. There are two parts only due to length, the story is meant to be read continuously.)
---
“Sorry I made a fuss,” the passenger gasped, swallowing the last word. She was a very, very large woman and the car rocked from side to side as she dragged her huge backside across the seat.
“No, I get it,” the driver told her, before closing the door. “It’s the company’s fault — they should have sent you a message.”
“Pardon?” he asked. He’d missed what she said as he walked back around to the front and got inside.
“This is a nice upgrade,” she said.
“Least they could do.”
“I still prefer you guys to Uber or whatever. You never know what kind of car you’ll get. Or who you’ll get.”
“That’s true,” the driver said.
“Last time — and I mean the last time — I called Uber some dude showed up in a Civic. I mean…”
“Little more AC?”
“Yes, please.”
He turned the dial to the right and then snuck a peek of her dabbing her damp forehead with a sodden tissue. Goddamn she was fat, maybe the biggest yet though given how she was built the largest part of her was hidden now. Anyway he’d seen plenty, the way she toddled as she walked. Cute, slightly cartoonish, but clearly struggling with her heft. He loved that word — heft. How she had to squeeze herself into the backseat.
She had short hair but a feminine style. A pixie, he believed it was called. She was a little overdressed for the season in baggy black pants and a long, burgundy cowl neck top. Fat lady clothes had a certain look to them, not just scaled-up versions. Her cheeks were rosy in the dim globe light and she was still breathing heavily, long after she’d settled, her lips open slightly like she was going to start whistling. Her face was somewhat narrow for her size, but she had a fat double chin that dangled down halfway to her chest and quivered with every tiny movement.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes, I can feel it now,” she said. She inhaled deeply and with palpable relief, drinking in the cool air.
“It is pretty hot out there.”
“Awful… I’m really not built for it.”
Did she really say that? Yeah she did, he’d heard it loud and clear. Some big women were self-deprecating when they got nervous, a way to defuse the issue preemptively. He checked his side mirrors and pulled out onto Pimlico Road, traffic-free at that hour. It was a smooth maneuver but she bobbled a bit in her seat nonetheless, on account of all that cushion under her. The driver licked his lips.
“One-oh-one Carleton Place,” he recited from his screen, once they were moving. “Greenville?”
“Yes it is. Home sweet home.”
“Is it?”
“I like it.”
He heard a bing, her phone.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“Of course.”
She didn’t say anything after that and he realized she was reading a text.
“Oh damn,” she sighed.
“What’s that?”
“Do you mind making a pitstop?”
The driver did — very much so. But how could he refuse?
“Where at?” he inquired, with just enough edge in his voice where she might say forget it.
“The ABC?” She said it as if suggesting rather than outright asking. “It’s on the way, sort of.”
“Where… I mean, what for?”
It was a wine and liquor store, he knew what for.
“I mean, sure,” he said quickly.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. Rough day?”
The little joke had her smiling, the driver relaxing again.
“Yeah, kinda was. Though I don’t drink actually, it was a request from my friend.”
“Friend is staying with you?”
“She lives there,” she said, after a slight hesitation.
Too many questions.
“Anyway yeah, it’s on the way,” he said. Though before the turn-off for Turtle Hill, though. Which was not ideal.
“Thanks.”
“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “Thing is, I saw some kinda road crew there earlier tonight — Southeast Edison, I think. They had Pine Road all dug up, the part leading up to the store, and it didn’t look like they were gonna be finished anytime soon. You mind if I take a little detour, go around it?”
“No, that’s fine,’ she said. “Whatever you think is best.”
“Okay, thanks. Feeling good back there?”
“Nice and cool, yes,” she said, and she did look cooler when he glanced back at her. Though he preferred her sweaty.
“Little music?”
“Whatever you’d like.”
He put on WCGC, the light rock station. The Eagles were playing, “Tequila Sunrise.”
“You seem familiar,” she said.
The driver gripped the wheel like he was trying to choke it.
“That right?”
“I don’t know from where.”
“I get that a lot,” he said, though he hardly ever did. “I’m pretty sure I never drove you anywhere.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t.”
He was about ready to forget about it, drive her to the damn ABC and onward to Greenville. Take his tip, go home and try another day, with another woman. He ground his teeth with the disappointment of it. She was so damn fat and damn near perfect otherwise. And she was there, right there. It was no small thing setting it up in the first place. His heart sank, thinking about having to start from scratch again.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said.
“This is kind of weird.”
“So am I.”
He smiled and she smiled back. Nice teeth. That was important to him.
“Have you ever driven a woman who was bigger than me?”
His next breath caught in his throat. She giggled, cheeks going rosy again, jiggling that second chin of hers.
“What kind of a question…” he tried to laugh then coughed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I asked.”
He recovered, smiling again. The honest answer, and likely the most flattering one was Yes.
“Yes, I have.”
“Okay then,” she said, satisfied. Maybe relieved? Though she didn't seem to lack self-confidence. At all. “Told you it was weird.”
He was rock-hard now but with his dick in a weird configuration, bunched up against his fly. They were stopped at a red light at the intersection of County Road 20 so he took the opportunity to reach into his pants and adjust himself. She couldn’t see the act itself but he knew the movements would look odd anyway. Nothing he could do about it.
The light went green and he made sure the intersection was clear before he went through it. Especially at that time of night, people driving like they were the only folks left on earth. Maybe it was his imagination but he thought he could feel her weight as he accelerated, that little hesitation, like her fat had its own inertia.
“What was she like?”
The driver resisted the urge to say Who, shifting in his seat. He knew who. He looked at his passenger in the rearview mirror, she was smiling.
No way, he thought. This kind of thing only happened in porn. Or his fantasies. No, his fantasy was something different. Someone’s fantasy.
“She was blonde,” the driver told her, waiting til after Don Felder finished his guitar solo. “About your age.”
“Pear-shaped like me, or big all over?”
He drummed his fingers on the wheel. Roll with it.
“Big all over, I guess,” he said.
He passed the turn for Turtle Hill. Fuck. But he’d told her they were taking a detour, another chance. He consulted the map in his head and moved into the right lane.
“You didn’t forget my pitstop, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, no. In fact it’s six and one half dozen, really, how we approach the place so let’s see if that crew is finished.”
“Alright,” she said.
He had another idea now, and though he didn’t like to do things on the fly the reward seemed worth the risk. What it was all about, really. The rush of adrenaline, diving into the unknown was its own foreplay. Plus he was curious now about her friend, the one she lived with. Something told him she’d be a big’un too. That’s what his daddy called them — big’uns.
He glanced at the rearview, realizing he’d pulled the brake prematurely on her previous inquiries, about Diane.
