~BBW, Eating, Explcit Sex, ~MWG A story of a young woman evading a ruthless mother and gaining weight whle haveing sex instead.
Edited to add: This will be it for awhile. Hafta pay the rent, y'know.
“But I don’t wanna!” squalled Luanne. “I don’t want to go to Camp SlimFast!”
Luanne is this sweet fat nymphette, I estimate about age twenty-one (I've not actually asked but she goes to college while living at home), that I've been feeding. She’s over 300 pounds now, because for about a year we've been stuffing her belly silly four nights a week, and pretty much all of her exercise consists of lying back and letting me plow into her over and over again. It’s marvelous how she wobbles and shakes with every shove I give her.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to conceal sixty pounds of weight gain, particularly from a mother. Luanne’s mom was quite aware that despite her cooking only the most healthful meals, and serving only miniscule portions, and sending Luanne out ‘jogging’ three times a week, even signing Luanne up for Sierra Club hikes, her daughter was still blimping out, and growing noticeably fatter every week.
She’d therefore formulated yet another plan: send Luanne to a "Fat Camp". She’d chosen one, “Camp SlimDown,” which she'd equated with the grocery product of similar name. The brochures were glossy and professional, the scientific language impeccable, the two-week program hideously expensive. Luanne was panicking at the prospect.
“I, I… How could she do this!” Luanne whined once more. “Camp Sucky! I don’t want to go! They’ll make me run and jump and feed me only lettuce and tofu!”
It is understandable, I mused, that Luanne doesn’t want to run and jump. Her 310 pounds manifests itself around her waist as a spare tire fit for an earthmover, and her tits are bigger than soccer balls, great fat bags lolling heavily against the top of her bulging tummy when not strapped into a custom-made bra, which only serves to make them even more prominent. Luanne couldn’t force her thick thighs past each other fast enough to run if a pack of wolves were after her. She needed my help just to get in and out of my truck - jumping is as foreign to her as Kazakhstan.
She’s also very addicted to burgers, pizza, ice cream and cheap pseudo-Mexican fast food. I was feeding her addiction, enabling, stuffing her face, and then some, when she told me the latest news, sobbing at the prospect, then cramming another burrito into her throat like it was the last one ever.
She threw the brochures her mother had given her at me, and in return I gave her the "Large Meat-Lovers Cheese-stuffed-crust pizza" I had picked up before pulling into Del Taco. While she was glutting herself for the fifth time in the same evening, I leafed through them.
“Hm, no refund, no return,” I muttered to myself. Luanne lifted her face from the pizza box, a string of mozzarella cheese running from her thick red lips to the pizza, her cheeks bulging, her jaws working madly away. I kissed her long brown hair, and went back to the brochures.
“Hm hm, train, counselor, hm.” Luanne ignored me this time, shoveling more pizza into her ever-swelling stomach.
I had a plan. I waited until Luanne was done with the pizza, thinking it over. It was getting late, and I had to return her to the park soon, despite her nearly stuporous state from her usual overeating. We were standing beside the truck in the park parking lot, and she was miserably contemplating her prospects.
“You don’t have to go to camp,” I said.
“Huh?” she sobbed. “But what about…”
“Just when you get on the train, dodge the counselor. Then get off the train again at the next stop.”
“But, but… What will I do for two weeks? What will I tell my parents? Who’ll come and get me?”
“I will. Listen, here’s what you have to do” I explained, while we held each other under the streetlights, she softly sobbing against my chest, my hands gripping, caressing, and attempting to embrace her fat waistline.
“See, you go to the camp on a train. You must conceal the tickets from your parents, and tell them the wrong car number. Get on at the back of the train, instead of the front. That way, the counselor won’t find you, and if they come looking, just deny it. Tell them your name is ‘Jennifer’ or something.”
Jennifer was her little sister.
“Then just get your bags, and get off the train again, at the next stop, Springfield. I’ll be there with my truck.”
“Uh” she acknowledged. “But two weeks? What…?”
“I’ll take care of you. You can call your parents from my house, and tell them all about camp. Even write them letters. Meanwhile…”
“Meanwhile?”
“At the end of the two weeks, I’ll take you back to Springfield, and put you back on the train going the other way. Your parents will pick you up, and no-one’s the wiser. We’ll call the camp, and tell them you missed the train, and aren’t coming.”
“Meanwhile?”
“Meanwhile, my beautiful little fatty, I’m going to spend those two weeks forcing more junk food into you than you ever imagined. You’re going to get stuffed, day in, day out, all day, all night. You’re going to eat and sleep and eat like you never did before. You’re going to Fat Camp all right - Gain Fat Camp!”
“Ohh…. Yes, please…”
“I’m going to wake you up at 6am, and exercise your tongue with omelets and bacon. After that pancakes, syrup, butter, and cream. Then it’ll be naptime until lunch, which will start at eleven with roast beef sandwiches, thick slices of cheese, heavy black bread and gobs of mustard and mayonnaise. After the sandwiches comes the potato salad, the pasta salad, and the jello. Bowls full of jello, just like your gut here!”
I shook a piece of her flab, and she giggled.
“Then you’ll be forced to nap again. If you don’t, I’ll give you sleeping pills until you do! Dinner starts at 4pm with steaks, baked potatoes, home fries, and coleslaw. The moment you’re done with your first dinner, you get another one, just the same, except even bigger! More beef, pork chops, ribs, two spuds, all swimming in fattening gravy. If you’re done before 9pm, it’s pizza night! Large pizzas with the works until midnight! If you leave any of it behind, you get it for breakfast the next day. And you’ll eat it!”
She was shuddering with anticipated pleasure, shaking on her weak fat feet. I had to support the two of us against the side of my truck. I idly reflected that this would cost me a lot, but I could handle it, and I had two weeks of vacation coming. I knew what I’d use it for. Maybe she orgasmed just thinking about it, but it was many minutes later before she managed to gasp out intelligible words again, and they were “Oh, my, yes. Feed me.”
I was already growing hard. She said it a few more times, “Feed me. Fatten me. Stuff me like a bad girl…”
My erection got harder. She noticed, and brushed her hand against my groin.
My truck has a shell over the bed. Although the back smells like dog, there’s a few blankets and cushions among the other junk back there.
I pulled her gently towards the back of my truck, and she followed with enthusiasm. I opened the tailgate, and helped her swollen legs lift her monumental thighs and balloon-shaped ass-cheeks up into the bed. Her mammoth belly and blimp-like breasts heaved and squirmed as I struggled to lift her flesh high enough to let her crawl in.
The suspension sagged, and suddenly the weighty young lady was wholly in my truck, on all fours on a blanket, looking back at me with a ‘come hither’ look over her shoulder. I looked at her in admiration.
I’d taken her ponytail out long ago, and her long silken locks of arrow-straight hair fanned out over her back like a palm leaf blanket. Her overloaded gut pulled down hard on her T-shirt, it was stretched and strained over the rolls of fat on her back and ass, trying to keep that all-consuming greedy tummy, heavily loaded with the results of the latest binge, off the blanket on the floor of the truck. Her once-loose, now tight, sweatpants outlined her ass in sharp relief as I clambered in after her, slamming the tailgate behind me.
She started to struggle around to face me, still on all fours, but only got a little way before the seams on her shirt gave way. Seems holding in that belly wasn’t what it was made for, and suddenly her vast midsection was set free to sway, bulge, and sag like an old barn.
It sagged. Her spine wasn’t up to the load, and her knees spread a little, and she let herself down until her belly rested on the blanket, billowing out on both sides of her meaty thighs. Her breasts descended to the blanket as well, nipples firmly pressed into the coarse cloth, even though her elbows were still locked straight and her hands flat on the floor.
I yanked at her sweatpants, pulling them down, exposing her huge fat butt and somewhere in there, her dripping wet ****. The spreading of her knees wasn’t enough to separate her well-fattened thighs, but I separated them for her, probing with my hands between sweating pieces of flabby woman-meat, searching for and finding that hairy source of the hot scent that had me by the hormones.
Her moans and muffled encouragement didn’t slow me down. Moments later, I wasn’t wearing pants and was crawling up behind her. The ceiling’s low under a pickup truck shell, but I bent over her, and plowed my cock through her rolls of bloated flesh and into that hairy pie my hands were stroking mere seconds ago.
When my penis found her ****, her whole body heaved, three hundred and ten pounds of heaving woman, and I could do nothing but hold on. The truck’s springs squeaked in complaint, but then I was repeatedly stuffing my cock into her cunny, hammering away at her, forcing yet more meat into that girl I’d bloated up to this awesome size.
I gripped her shoulders, and pulled her back against me, her waist shaking in sympathy as I impaled her. That spare tire of her fast-food weight-gain shook as I fucked her. Everything shook as I fucked her. She alternately spewed dirty words and encouraged me to screw her harder, faster, deeper.
“Oh yeah! Screw your little fatty, I want your cock so bad, bad, I can taste it, oh screw me, yes yes yes, I’m a bad girl, I’m a fat girl, oh food, feed, ….”
I wildly rode three hundred pounds of desperately horny woman. Her babbling rose in pitch and speed until it became completely incoherent, and then she let out a low moan rising rapidly to a scream. Her cunny clamped on my prick. Her mouth opened wide, her eyes squeezed tight shut, her fingers ripped at the blanket and her feet kicked helplessly as she bulldozed herself through a colossal orgasm, shaking from her nipples firmly planted on the floor to the tips of her long hair.
Her **** pulsed and clamped again. I lost control, and a few powerful thrusts later blew wads of hot sperm into her womb. She squealed in ecstasy, and aftershocks from her orgasm rippled over her, coaxing yet another spurt and a few dribbles from me, irrigating her pussy like an Oklahoma farm. We remained rigidly in position for a few long moments and shuddering breaths as our heartbeats slowed, then I unclenched my grip on her flabby waist and we slumped into a quivering heap of sodden sweating flesh, still latched together, her ass in my crotch, my softening prick solidly up her hole.
“Mmm, so nice.” Luanne whispered. We cuddled each other for a few moments, and squirmed around each other to kiss, and my pecker slipped out, followed by a dribble of white sperm. Luanne giggled, and licked at my teeth. It took me quite a long time to get untangled and dressed again. Luanne just watched, giggling and wobbling and interfering, rubbing her breasts against me and teasing my fingers with her lips and tongue.
I left her in the back while we drove back to the park. When we got there, she was half-dressed again, and I climbed into the back once more and between kisses and fondling her swollen teats got her decent enough so I could help her climb out of the truck bed and point her in the direction of her house. I knotted her shirt up under her breasts in an effort to conceal the torn seams, but it was only barely effective, and exposed a huge roll of her midsection and her deep soft bellybutton.
A long hug and smooch later, she staggered off up the street, looking back and blowing kisses as she waddled homeward, legs splayed around her well-used pussy in a kinky mockery of a hopelessly overweight jogger. As she passed under the streetlights, I could tell the knot I’d put into her shirt was loosening as her breasts swayed and bounced around, and she was holding it tightly and hoping it would stay tied until she got home. She was very late getting home - It was long past ten pm. when I left her at the park, and she wasn’t the fastest jogger.
Edited to add: This will be it for awhile. Hafta pay the rent, y'know.
“But I don’t wanna!” squalled Luanne. “I don’t want to go to Camp SlimFast!”
Luanne is this sweet fat nymphette, I estimate about age twenty-one (I've not actually asked but she goes to college while living at home), that I've been feeding. She’s over 300 pounds now, because for about a year we've been stuffing her belly silly four nights a week, and pretty much all of her exercise consists of lying back and letting me plow into her over and over again. It’s marvelous how she wobbles and shakes with every shove I give her.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to conceal sixty pounds of weight gain, particularly from a mother. Luanne’s mom was quite aware that despite her cooking only the most healthful meals, and serving only miniscule portions, and sending Luanne out ‘jogging’ three times a week, even signing Luanne up for Sierra Club hikes, her daughter was still blimping out, and growing noticeably fatter every week.
She’d therefore formulated yet another plan: send Luanne to a "Fat Camp". She’d chosen one, “Camp SlimDown,” which she'd equated with the grocery product of similar name. The brochures were glossy and professional, the scientific language impeccable, the two-week program hideously expensive. Luanne was panicking at the prospect.
“I, I… How could she do this!” Luanne whined once more. “Camp Sucky! I don’t want to go! They’ll make me run and jump and feed me only lettuce and tofu!”
It is understandable, I mused, that Luanne doesn’t want to run and jump. Her 310 pounds manifests itself around her waist as a spare tire fit for an earthmover, and her tits are bigger than soccer balls, great fat bags lolling heavily against the top of her bulging tummy when not strapped into a custom-made bra, which only serves to make them even more prominent. Luanne couldn’t force her thick thighs past each other fast enough to run if a pack of wolves were after her. She needed my help just to get in and out of my truck - jumping is as foreign to her as Kazakhstan.
She’s also very addicted to burgers, pizza, ice cream and cheap pseudo-Mexican fast food. I was feeding her addiction, enabling, stuffing her face, and then some, when she told me the latest news, sobbing at the prospect, then cramming another burrito into her throat like it was the last one ever.
She threw the brochures her mother had given her at me, and in return I gave her the "Large Meat-Lovers Cheese-stuffed-crust pizza" I had picked up before pulling into Del Taco. While she was glutting herself for the fifth time in the same evening, I leafed through them.
“Hm, no refund, no return,” I muttered to myself. Luanne lifted her face from the pizza box, a string of mozzarella cheese running from her thick red lips to the pizza, her cheeks bulging, her jaws working madly away. I kissed her long brown hair, and went back to the brochures.
“Hm hm, train, counselor, hm.” Luanne ignored me this time, shoveling more pizza into her ever-swelling stomach.
I had a plan. I waited until Luanne was done with the pizza, thinking it over. It was getting late, and I had to return her to the park soon, despite her nearly stuporous state from her usual overeating. We were standing beside the truck in the park parking lot, and she was miserably contemplating her prospects.
“You don’t have to go to camp,” I said.
“Huh?” she sobbed. “But what about…”
“Just when you get on the train, dodge the counselor. Then get off the train again at the next stop.”
“But, but… What will I do for two weeks? What will I tell my parents? Who’ll come and get me?”
“I will. Listen, here’s what you have to do” I explained, while we held each other under the streetlights, she softly sobbing against my chest, my hands gripping, caressing, and attempting to embrace her fat waistline.
“See, you go to the camp on a train. You must conceal the tickets from your parents, and tell them the wrong car number. Get on at the back of the train, instead of the front. That way, the counselor won’t find you, and if they come looking, just deny it. Tell them your name is ‘Jennifer’ or something.”
Jennifer was her little sister.
“Then just get your bags, and get off the train again, at the next stop, Springfield. I’ll be there with my truck.”
“Uh” she acknowledged. “But two weeks? What…?”
“I’ll take care of you. You can call your parents from my house, and tell them all about camp. Even write them letters. Meanwhile…”
“Meanwhile?”
“At the end of the two weeks, I’ll take you back to Springfield, and put you back on the train going the other way. Your parents will pick you up, and no-one’s the wiser. We’ll call the camp, and tell them you missed the train, and aren’t coming.”
“Meanwhile?”
“Meanwhile, my beautiful little fatty, I’m going to spend those two weeks forcing more junk food into you than you ever imagined. You’re going to get stuffed, day in, day out, all day, all night. You’re going to eat and sleep and eat like you never did before. You’re going to Fat Camp all right - Gain Fat Camp!”
“Ohh…. Yes, please…”
“I’m going to wake you up at 6am, and exercise your tongue with omelets and bacon. After that pancakes, syrup, butter, and cream. Then it’ll be naptime until lunch, which will start at eleven with roast beef sandwiches, thick slices of cheese, heavy black bread and gobs of mustard and mayonnaise. After the sandwiches comes the potato salad, the pasta salad, and the jello. Bowls full of jello, just like your gut here!”
I shook a piece of her flab, and she giggled.
“Then you’ll be forced to nap again. If you don’t, I’ll give you sleeping pills until you do! Dinner starts at 4pm with steaks, baked potatoes, home fries, and coleslaw. The moment you’re done with your first dinner, you get another one, just the same, except even bigger! More beef, pork chops, ribs, two spuds, all swimming in fattening gravy. If you’re done before 9pm, it’s pizza night! Large pizzas with the works until midnight! If you leave any of it behind, you get it for breakfast the next day. And you’ll eat it!”
She was shuddering with anticipated pleasure, shaking on her weak fat feet. I had to support the two of us against the side of my truck. I idly reflected that this would cost me a lot, but I could handle it, and I had two weeks of vacation coming. I knew what I’d use it for. Maybe she orgasmed just thinking about it, but it was many minutes later before she managed to gasp out intelligible words again, and they were “Oh, my, yes. Feed me.”
I was already growing hard. She said it a few more times, “Feed me. Fatten me. Stuff me like a bad girl…”
My erection got harder. She noticed, and brushed her hand against my groin.
My truck has a shell over the bed. Although the back smells like dog, there’s a few blankets and cushions among the other junk back there.
I pulled her gently towards the back of my truck, and she followed with enthusiasm. I opened the tailgate, and helped her swollen legs lift her monumental thighs and balloon-shaped ass-cheeks up into the bed. Her mammoth belly and blimp-like breasts heaved and squirmed as I struggled to lift her flesh high enough to let her crawl in.
The suspension sagged, and suddenly the weighty young lady was wholly in my truck, on all fours on a blanket, looking back at me with a ‘come hither’ look over her shoulder. I looked at her in admiration.
I’d taken her ponytail out long ago, and her long silken locks of arrow-straight hair fanned out over her back like a palm leaf blanket. Her overloaded gut pulled down hard on her T-shirt, it was stretched and strained over the rolls of fat on her back and ass, trying to keep that all-consuming greedy tummy, heavily loaded with the results of the latest binge, off the blanket on the floor of the truck. Her once-loose, now tight, sweatpants outlined her ass in sharp relief as I clambered in after her, slamming the tailgate behind me.
She started to struggle around to face me, still on all fours, but only got a little way before the seams on her shirt gave way. Seems holding in that belly wasn’t what it was made for, and suddenly her vast midsection was set free to sway, bulge, and sag like an old barn.
It sagged. Her spine wasn’t up to the load, and her knees spread a little, and she let herself down until her belly rested on the blanket, billowing out on both sides of her meaty thighs. Her breasts descended to the blanket as well, nipples firmly pressed into the coarse cloth, even though her elbows were still locked straight and her hands flat on the floor.
I yanked at her sweatpants, pulling them down, exposing her huge fat butt and somewhere in there, her dripping wet ****. The spreading of her knees wasn’t enough to separate her well-fattened thighs, but I separated them for her, probing with my hands between sweating pieces of flabby woman-meat, searching for and finding that hairy source of the hot scent that had me by the hormones.
Her moans and muffled encouragement didn’t slow me down. Moments later, I wasn’t wearing pants and was crawling up behind her. The ceiling’s low under a pickup truck shell, but I bent over her, and plowed my cock through her rolls of bloated flesh and into that hairy pie my hands were stroking mere seconds ago.
When my penis found her ****, her whole body heaved, three hundred and ten pounds of heaving woman, and I could do nothing but hold on. The truck’s springs squeaked in complaint, but then I was repeatedly stuffing my cock into her cunny, hammering away at her, forcing yet more meat into that girl I’d bloated up to this awesome size.
I gripped her shoulders, and pulled her back against me, her waist shaking in sympathy as I impaled her. That spare tire of her fast-food weight-gain shook as I fucked her. Everything shook as I fucked her. She alternately spewed dirty words and encouraged me to screw her harder, faster, deeper.
“Oh yeah! Screw your little fatty, I want your cock so bad, bad, I can taste it, oh screw me, yes yes yes, I’m a bad girl, I’m a fat girl, oh food, feed, ….”
I wildly rode three hundred pounds of desperately horny woman. Her babbling rose in pitch and speed until it became completely incoherent, and then she let out a low moan rising rapidly to a scream. Her cunny clamped on my prick. Her mouth opened wide, her eyes squeezed tight shut, her fingers ripped at the blanket and her feet kicked helplessly as she bulldozed herself through a colossal orgasm, shaking from her nipples firmly planted on the floor to the tips of her long hair.
Her **** pulsed and clamped again. I lost control, and a few powerful thrusts later blew wads of hot sperm into her womb. She squealed in ecstasy, and aftershocks from her orgasm rippled over her, coaxing yet another spurt and a few dribbles from me, irrigating her pussy like an Oklahoma farm. We remained rigidly in position for a few long moments and shuddering breaths as our heartbeats slowed, then I unclenched my grip on her flabby waist and we slumped into a quivering heap of sodden sweating flesh, still latched together, her ass in my crotch, my softening prick solidly up her hole.
“Mmm, so nice.” Luanne whispered. We cuddled each other for a few moments, and squirmed around each other to kiss, and my pecker slipped out, followed by a dribble of white sperm. Luanne giggled, and licked at my teeth. It took me quite a long time to get untangled and dressed again. Luanne just watched, giggling and wobbling and interfering, rubbing her breasts against me and teasing my fingers with her lips and tongue.
I left her in the back while we drove back to the park. When we got there, she was half-dressed again, and I climbed into the back once more and between kisses and fondling her swollen teats got her decent enough so I could help her climb out of the truck bed and point her in the direction of her house. I knotted her shirt up under her breasts in an effort to conceal the torn seams, but it was only barely effective, and exposed a huge roll of her midsection and her deep soft bellybutton.
A long hug and smooch later, she staggered off up the street, looking back and blowing kisses as she waddled homeward, legs splayed around her well-used pussy in a kinky mockery of a hopelessly overweight jogger. As she passed under the streetlights, I could tell the knot I’d put into her shirt was loosening as her breasts swayed and bounced around, and she was holding it tightly and hoping it would stay tied until she got home. She was very late getting home - It was long past ten pm. when I left her at the park, and she wasn’t the fastest jogger.
