BBW, Eating, Sex, ~SWG - A young woman evades her fatphobic and ruthless mother, gaining weight instead. There's sex.
[Author's note: This is a teaser. There's elements in the various following sections that I am still thinking about shuffling around, not to mention trying to keep all the numbers straight, so I'm not going to post any more chapters until they're all tidied up neatly. Enjoy 'til then.
Scx]
I was out with a borrowed dog when I first met Luanne. My neighbors were on holiday for a few weeks, and I was feeding and walking their dog, a big friendly Labrador. I didn’t take him far, just down to the park in the evenings, where I’d let him go in the dog area and just sit back and watch.
Luanne was about 5’6”, with silky brown hair, so dark it was almost black, down to her waist, but it was done up in a tight braid at the time. She wore loose sweats and running shoes, but she wasn’t jogging. She was wheezing and waddling towards the bench I was using, and dropped her considerable bulk on the end. Considerable bulk. Although she was young (I guessed 20 at the time) she had managed, in those years, to amass well over 250 lbs. onto her burgeoning body.
Much of it was piled around her waist, in a bloated spare tire visible even through the loose clothing, and more was heaped up in a pair of enormous swollen breasts outlined by her sweatshirt sticking to her heaving bosom as she gasped for breath. Her nipples were visible despite the thick sports bra. Naturally, I was fascinated.
Mike, the dog, came over to me at that moment, and provided a wonderful conversation opener. After that, I learned her name, that she was out for a jog, that her parents had nagged her into this, and that she was just dying for a drink of water. I had a bottle of Evian in my backpack, and I passed it over to her.
By and by, more of her story came out. She’d been a pudgy girl for most of her life, but finally her family decided she was just too fat, and that she must begin a diet and exercise program at once. Her mother bought her loose exercise clothing and a pair of running shoes, and after a dinner of lettuce and water (her words) she was compelled to put them on, and head off down the hill to jog around the park a few times.
Just keeping up a semblance of a jog all the way to the park had exhausted her. She said she was starving, thirsty (she drank all my water while telling me this), had sore feet, and was just angry at the world. She lay back on the bench, still struggling to draw a full breath, visibly soaked in sweat.
I observed she had drunk all my water, and asked her if she’d like some more.
“You have more?”
“No, but I can get some.”
“They sell water here?”
“No. But there’s a 7-11 two blocks down Oak, that way.”
“Ohhh, I couldn’t. I’ve still got to rest!”, she panted.
“We’ll drive. My truck is just over there.”
With that, she had no further objections, and the fat young woman followed me to my truck, climbing in the passenger side. Mike hopped in the back, and we all drove off to the 7-11. Mike and Luanne seemed to get along great. Mike would lick her face through the sliding back window of the cab, and Luanne was giggling and scratching Mike between the ears.
On the way was a Burger King, and I said, nonchalantly, “You know, I’ve not had dinner yet. Would you like a hamburger or something?”
She replied, hesitantly, “Well, I, uh, shouldn’t, like, well…”
“Ahh, relax!” I said. “A growing woman needs more than lettuce for dinner.”
“No, no, I shouldn’t…” she feebly protested but with no cionviction.
Moments later, we were pulling out of the drive-thru with two Jumbo Meal Combos and a plain hamburger. I fed the plain hamburger to Mike.
“I’m sorry, did you want Diet Pepsi?” I had deliberately misordered for her, and she’d tried to correct me once, but I’d ignored her.
“mmph, supposed to” she mumbled around what was left of her double-bacon burger.
“But I hate the diet stuff. It tastes like acid” she concluded after swallowing another wad of starch, fat, and grease.
I had only eaten a little of my meal. I was hungry, but not nearly as hungry as curious. She had gulped her order down so fast I barely had time to blink. 40oz of full-sugar soda pop had also gone up her straw and into her stomach just as quickly.
“I guess I’m not that hungry” I said, after only nibbling at my hamburger and a few fries. “But I don’t really want to throw it away.”
I could practically see her salivating. “Would you like the rest?”
I didn’t have to ask twice. It vanished down her throat, along with another 40oz of soda.
She gave a cute little burp. “Excuse me” she giggled.
Then she continued, “MMmm… Oh, thank you. I was so hungry. It’s so good! I haven’t had Burger King in so long - Since my Mom started on this stupid diet thing!”
“How about Taco Bell?” I asked. We were passing one on the other side of the boulevard.
“Mmm, I used to love Taco Bell! Their quesadillas, and gorditas… But no, no, says Mom, I have to diet. Diet! Die with a ‘T’! What? Huh? Where are we…”
I had swung the truck around during her little tirade.
“Well, you said you were hungry.” I added, as we turned into the Taco Bell drive-thru.
“Oh, no, I mean, uh, yeah, but…”
“Four macho Gorditas, four superQ quesadillas, and four large Pepsi.” I said to the drive-thru sign.
“No, really, no, I couldn’t…”
She could. She did.
Forty-five minutes later I pulled the truck back into the park. Luanne was lying back in the passenger seat with an expression of beatific glory in her glazed eyes. The pitstop at Baskin Robbins had been the final topper. She’d stuffed her face full of fast-food, and then ice-cream, nonstop since we’d left the Burger King. Now she was in a sugar-high overfed stupor from about forty bucks worth of sheer grease and sugar.
“Now, back to your jogging” I gently chided this gluttonous girl.
“Uhh. Nuhh” she breathed at me.
“Yes. You have to jog home now.” I kiddded.
The girl was in no shape to jog at all. We had crammed her to the brim with starch and soda-pop, and her muscle tone was non-existent to start with. But one must keep up appearances. Since she was supposed to go jogging Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for an hour each night, it was time this fattened female took her jiggling and wobbling waist and tits back home again.
I opened the door on her side, and helped her out of the truck. She staggered briefly, legs unstable, then threw herself around me.
“Thank you so much” she whimpered, arms wrapped around my waist. “I really really needed that.”
“You’re welcome” I whispered into her hair.
“Now…” I added, with a hint of seduction. It was Monday, so… “See you Wednesday? Same time? Same place?”
“Oooohhh…” She almost swooned. I had to exert some strength to keep this heavy girl from slumping to the ground. “Oh yes, please…”
“Until then.” I added a few minutes later. I gently pushed her away, held her at arm’s length briefly, looking into her big brown eyes, moist with emotion, over her round cheeks, the beginning of a second chin, the stray hairs that had come adrift from her braid during her binge, and her enormous chest. I pulled her against me again. She was so soft around the waist, her flab squinching around as I pulled her against my chest, but her breasts were firm and her nipples stiff, rubbing against my ribs. Finally we separated again, and I sent her on her way, waddling in a mockery of a run up the hill. I watched until she was out of sight, then whistled for Mike, and headed off home myself.
Wednesday couldn’t come too soon for me. I was early, and was playing Frisbee with Mike when I heard a nervous “Hi” behind me. Sure enough, it was Luanne again, looking even better than she had before. She’d traded in the braid for a ponytail, and the straight silken locks were pulled forwards over one shoulder. She was still wearing sweatpants, but had put on a T-shirt instead of the sweatshirt she’d had on two days ago, and her tits looked magnificent. I guess I stared, because the next thing I knew she was giggling at me, and said, “I saw you looking yester… uh, last time. I don’t mind.”
And then she must have arched her back a little, because they became even more prominent, bulging forwards and straining the stitching of the tight shirt. The outlines of her bra were obvious. Mike dropped the Frisbee at my feet, but I barely noticed.
“So,” she began, sidling up a little closer to me, “Mom only gave me broccoli and carrots for dinner tonight. I’m supposed to be jogging” she continued, in a ‘sweet little girl’ voice, “But I’m really really hungry…”
Her voice trailed off.
No sooner said than done. I laid rubber out of the parking lot, and we went the other way up the boulevard. Carl’s Jr., White Castle, McD’s, Del Taco, and back to Baskin Robbins. Clerks shoveled food through the driver’s side window, and she shoveled it down her throat. She made little mewling noises of pleasure as she crammed her cheeks with junk, swallowing and swelling her tummy a little more every time.
An hopur and forty-five minutes later, outside Baskin Robbins as she was finishing off her third sundae, I was getting ready to take her back to the park. She, her mouth full, motioned ‘No’ when I reached for the ignition key.
“Wait.” She said, after swallowing. I waited. She shoved the last of the ice-cream into her mouth and swallowed it.
“Let me” she gasped over her ballooned stomach, “Let me, for you…”
I must have looked quizzical, because she continued, “Around there” pointing at an alley. I knew it didn’t go anywhere, but I fired up the truck and went there anyhow. No sooner had we driven out of sight, than she reached to her wide waist and grasped her shirt.
“Stop here” she whispered.
I stopped. She peeled. She pulled her shirt over her head in one swift movement, exposing more pale flesh than I was prepared for. She was vast! Her cleavage ran from near her chin into the white cotton of her bra. Rolls and swags of fat billowed from her every surface, that spare tire of hers fit for a Kenworth. Her bellybutton was deep enough to fall into. And she put all of it in motion towards me, sliding over her thighs, over the seat, past the gearshift, up onto my lap she dragged her fat-laden half-naked body. Her mammoth breasts shifted and swayed inside that behemoth bra, cleavage you could park a ship in.
Before I could have a second thought, her hands were fumbling at my pants, her breasts were mashed against my face, and my erection was stiffer than a federal prison sentence. She managed to get it out of my underwear, through the zipper in my jeans, then she slipped and slid down until her face was right over my cock. The passage of her warm soft body over mine had nearly made me cum already, and then she looked up at me.
“I think I need to eat one more thing…” she breathed lasciviously, her hand lightly gripping my shaft. With a sly look into my eyes, she turned and dove onto my prick, engulfing me between those same lips that had so recently eaten enough lard to choke a horse.
Choking indeed, she slobbered and sucked at my rigid penis. Her hands worked me up and down like a piston. Her tongue swirled and lapped at me, and I fed her what she wanted, blowing wad after wad of sperm into her greedy mouth. She swallowed time and time again, letting only a little dribble escape, which she collected on her fingertip, and licked it off with a toothy smile.
We were late getting back to the park, but neither of us cared. I was beyond speech anyhow. We parted with a long kiss, and she staggered away up the hill, struggling with the fresh load in her stomach, calling back over her shoulder, “Friday…”
Where was the dumb dog, anyhow? I spent the next hour calling ‘Mike! Mike!’ until I found him in another corner of the park, sniffing some poodle’s ass. He was probably angry at me for leaving him alone for a couple hours and not bringing him a hamburger. I fed him a couple fries that Luanne had missed when stuffing her sweet cheeks with salt and fat and starch and sperm. I never did find the Frisbee.
Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Three times a week. From that fateful Monday on, Luanne’s ‘jogging’ was having the opposite effect her mother wanted. Three times a week she waddled down to the park, climbed in my truck, and I hauled her rapidly fattening ass up and down the road, feeding her more at every turn. When she was stuffed to the limit with salt, starch, and meat, I’d park in a secluded alley and stuff a little more meat into her, over and over again.
It was a triple thrill for both of us. Her stuffing her face in defiance of society and her mother. The fear of getting caught, and finally the sexual electricity between us grew with every inch of her straining sweatpants waistband. It promised to be a great year.
(Click here for chapter II)
[Author's note: This is a teaser. There's elements in the various following sections that I am still thinking about shuffling around, not to mention trying to keep all the numbers straight, so I'm not going to post any more chapters until they're all tidied up neatly. Enjoy 'til then.
Scx]
Luanne Part I: How I met Luanne
by ~Scx
by ~Scx
I was out with a borrowed dog when I first met Luanne. My neighbors were on holiday for a few weeks, and I was feeding and walking their dog, a big friendly Labrador. I didn’t take him far, just down to the park in the evenings, where I’d let him go in the dog area and just sit back and watch.
Luanne was about 5’6”, with silky brown hair, so dark it was almost black, down to her waist, but it was done up in a tight braid at the time. She wore loose sweats and running shoes, but she wasn’t jogging. She was wheezing and waddling towards the bench I was using, and dropped her considerable bulk on the end. Considerable bulk. Although she was young (I guessed 20 at the time) she had managed, in those years, to amass well over 250 lbs. onto her burgeoning body.
Much of it was piled around her waist, in a bloated spare tire visible even through the loose clothing, and more was heaped up in a pair of enormous swollen breasts outlined by her sweatshirt sticking to her heaving bosom as she gasped for breath. Her nipples were visible despite the thick sports bra. Naturally, I was fascinated.
Mike, the dog, came over to me at that moment, and provided a wonderful conversation opener. After that, I learned her name, that she was out for a jog, that her parents had nagged her into this, and that she was just dying for a drink of water. I had a bottle of Evian in my backpack, and I passed it over to her.
By and by, more of her story came out. She’d been a pudgy girl for most of her life, but finally her family decided she was just too fat, and that she must begin a diet and exercise program at once. Her mother bought her loose exercise clothing and a pair of running shoes, and after a dinner of lettuce and water (her words) she was compelled to put them on, and head off down the hill to jog around the park a few times.
Just keeping up a semblance of a jog all the way to the park had exhausted her. She said she was starving, thirsty (she drank all my water while telling me this), had sore feet, and was just angry at the world. She lay back on the bench, still struggling to draw a full breath, visibly soaked in sweat.
I observed she had drunk all my water, and asked her if she’d like some more.
“You have more?”
“No, but I can get some.”
“They sell water here?”
“No. But there’s a 7-11 two blocks down Oak, that way.”
“Ohhh, I couldn’t. I’ve still got to rest!”, she panted.
“We’ll drive. My truck is just over there.”
With that, she had no further objections, and the fat young woman followed me to my truck, climbing in the passenger side. Mike hopped in the back, and we all drove off to the 7-11. Mike and Luanne seemed to get along great. Mike would lick her face through the sliding back window of the cab, and Luanne was giggling and scratching Mike between the ears.
On the way was a Burger King, and I said, nonchalantly, “You know, I’ve not had dinner yet. Would you like a hamburger or something?”
She replied, hesitantly, “Well, I, uh, shouldn’t, like, well…”
“Ahh, relax!” I said. “A growing woman needs more than lettuce for dinner.”
“No, no, I shouldn’t…” she feebly protested but with no cionviction.
Moments later, we were pulling out of the drive-thru with two Jumbo Meal Combos and a plain hamburger. I fed the plain hamburger to Mike.
“I’m sorry, did you want Diet Pepsi?” I had deliberately misordered for her, and she’d tried to correct me once, but I’d ignored her.
“mmph, supposed to” she mumbled around what was left of her double-bacon burger.
“But I hate the diet stuff. It tastes like acid” she concluded after swallowing another wad of starch, fat, and grease.
I had only eaten a little of my meal. I was hungry, but not nearly as hungry as curious. She had gulped her order down so fast I barely had time to blink. 40oz of full-sugar soda pop had also gone up her straw and into her stomach just as quickly.
“I guess I’m not that hungry” I said, after only nibbling at my hamburger and a few fries. “But I don’t really want to throw it away.”
I could practically see her salivating. “Would you like the rest?”
I didn’t have to ask twice. It vanished down her throat, along with another 40oz of soda.
She gave a cute little burp. “Excuse me” she giggled.
Then she continued, “MMmm… Oh, thank you. I was so hungry. It’s so good! I haven’t had Burger King in so long - Since my Mom started on this stupid diet thing!”
“How about Taco Bell?” I asked. We were passing one on the other side of the boulevard.
“Mmm, I used to love Taco Bell! Their quesadillas, and gorditas… But no, no, says Mom, I have to diet. Diet! Die with a ‘T’! What? Huh? Where are we…”
I had swung the truck around during her little tirade.
“Well, you said you were hungry.” I added, as we turned into the Taco Bell drive-thru.
“Oh, no, I mean, uh, yeah, but…”
“Four macho Gorditas, four superQ quesadillas, and four large Pepsi.” I said to the drive-thru sign.
“No, really, no, I couldn’t…”
She could. She did.
Forty-five minutes later I pulled the truck back into the park. Luanne was lying back in the passenger seat with an expression of beatific glory in her glazed eyes. The pitstop at Baskin Robbins had been the final topper. She’d stuffed her face full of fast-food, and then ice-cream, nonstop since we’d left the Burger King. Now she was in a sugar-high overfed stupor from about forty bucks worth of sheer grease and sugar.
“Now, back to your jogging” I gently chided this gluttonous girl.
“Uhh. Nuhh” she breathed at me.
“Yes. You have to jog home now.” I kiddded.
The girl was in no shape to jog at all. We had crammed her to the brim with starch and soda-pop, and her muscle tone was non-existent to start with. But one must keep up appearances. Since she was supposed to go jogging Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for an hour each night, it was time this fattened female took her jiggling and wobbling waist and tits back home again.
I opened the door on her side, and helped her out of the truck. She staggered briefly, legs unstable, then threw herself around me.
“Thank you so much” she whimpered, arms wrapped around my waist. “I really really needed that.”
“You’re welcome” I whispered into her hair.
“Now…” I added, with a hint of seduction. It was Monday, so… “See you Wednesday? Same time? Same place?”
“Oooohhh…” She almost swooned. I had to exert some strength to keep this heavy girl from slumping to the ground. “Oh yes, please…”
“Until then.” I added a few minutes later. I gently pushed her away, held her at arm’s length briefly, looking into her big brown eyes, moist with emotion, over her round cheeks, the beginning of a second chin, the stray hairs that had come adrift from her braid during her binge, and her enormous chest. I pulled her against me again. She was so soft around the waist, her flab squinching around as I pulled her against my chest, but her breasts were firm and her nipples stiff, rubbing against my ribs. Finally we separated again, and I sent her on her way, waddling in a mockery of a run up the hill. I watched until she was out of sight, then whistled for Mike, and headed off home myself.
Wednesday couldn’t come too soon for me. I was early, and was playing Frisbee with Mike when I heard a nervous “Hi” behind me. Sure enough, it was Luanne again, looking even better than she had before. She’d traded in the braid for a ponytail, and the straight silken locks were pulled forwards over one shoulder. She was still wearing sweatpants, but had put on a T-shirt instead of the sweatshirt she’d had on two days ago, and her tits looked magnificent. I guess I stared, because the next thing I knew she was giggling at me, and said, “I saw you looking yester… uh, last time. I don’t mind.”
And then she must have arched her back a little, because they became even more prominent, bulging forwards and straining the stitching of the tight shirt. The outlines of her bra were obvious. Mike dropped the Frisbee at my feet, but I barely noticed.
“So,” she began, sidling up a little closer to me, “Mom only gave me broccoli and carrots for dinner tonight. I’m supposed to be jogging” she continued, in a ‘sweet little girl’ voice, “But I’m really really hungry…”
Her voice trailed off.
No sooner said than done. I laid rubber out of the parking lot, and we went the other way up the boulevard. Carl’s Jr., White Castle, McD’s, Del Taco, and back to Baskin Robbins. Clerks shoveled food through the driver’s side window, and she shoveled it down her throat. She made little mewling noises of pleasure as she crammed her cheeks with junk, swallowing and swelling her tummy a little more every time.
An hopur and forty-five minutes later, outside Baskin Robbins as she was finishing off her third sundae, I was getting ready to take her back to the park. She, her mouth full, motioned ‘No’ when I reached for the ignition key.
“Wait.” She said, after swallowing. I waited. She shoved the last of the ice-cream into her mouth and swallowed it.
“Let me” she gasped over her ballooned stomach, “Let me, for you…”
I must have looked quizzical, because she continued, “Around there” pointing at an alley. I knew it didn’t go anywhere, but I fired up the truck and went there anyhow. No sooner had we driven out of sight, than she reached to her wide waist and grasped her shirt.
“Stop here” she whispered.
I stopped. She peeled. She pulled her shirt over her head in one swift movement, exposing more pale flesh than I was prepared for. She was vast! Her cleavage ran from near her chin into the white cotton of her bra. Rolls and swags of fat billowed from her every surface, that spare tire of hers fit for a Kenworth. Her bellybutton was deep enough to fall into. And she put all of it in motion towards me, sliding over her thighs, over the seat, past the gearshift, up onto my lap she dragged her fat-laden half-naked body. Her mammoth breasts shifted and swayed inside that behemoth bra, cleavage you could park a ship in.
Before I could have a second thought, her hands were fumbling at my pants, her breasts were mashed against my face, and my erection was stiffer than a federal prison sentence. She managed to get it out of my underwear, through the zipper in my jeans, then she slipped and slid down until her face was right over my cock. The passage of her warm soft body over mine had nearly made me cum already, and then she looked up at me.
“I think I need to eat one more thing…” she breathed lasciviously, her hand lightly gripping my shaft. With a sly look into my eyes, she turned and dove onto my prick, engulfing me between those same lips that had so recently eaten enough lard to choke a horse.
Choking indeed, she slobbered and sucked at my rigid penis. Her hands worked me up and down like a piston. Her tongue swirled and lapped at me, and I fed her what she wanted, blowing wad after wad of sperm into her greedy mouth. She swallowed time and time again, letting only a little dribble escape, which she collected on her fingertip, and licked it off with a toothy smile.
We were late getting back to the park, but neither of us cared. I was beyond speech anyhow. We parted with a long kiss, and she staggered away up the hill, struggling with the fresh load in her stomach, calling back over her shoulder, “Friday…”
Where was the dumb dog, anyhow? I spent the next hour calling ‘Mike! Mike!’ until I found him in another corner of the park, sniffing some poodle’s ass. He was probably angry at me for leaving him alone for a couple hours and not bringing him a hamburger. I fed him a couple fries that Luanne had missed when stuffing her sweet cheeks with salt and fat and starch and sperm. I never did find the Frisbee.
Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Three times a week. From that fateful Monday on, Luanne’s ‘jogging’ was having the opposite effect her mother wanted. Three times a week she waddled down to the park, climbed in my truck, and I hauled her rapidly fattening ass up and down the road, feeding her more at every turn. When she was stuffed to the limit with salt, starch, and meat, I’d park in a secluded alley and stuff a little more meat into her, over and over again.
It was a triple thrill for both of us. Her stuffing her face in defiance of society and her mother. The fear of getting caught, and finally the sexual electricity between us grew with every inch of her straining sweatpants waistband. It promised to be a great year.
(Click here for chapter II)
