BBW, Dining, Moderate WG - Liam breaks the ice by a chance visit to a nearly deserted buffet
(Editor's note: We are happy to bring to oiur Dimensions audience the first instalment of one component of a series of stories interconneted with the Internet's classic and stockiest Water Polo team. The other components include Chelsea, Lynn, and Jenna.)
I have no idea why I suddenly had the hankering to go to Hometown Buffet one Tuesday evening. For those of you who are not familiar with the establishment, let’s just say it’s not exactly the party spot of any city or town, let alone on a Tuesday night.
I knew full well from prior experience that I was going to pay way too much money for the enjoyment of eating an eclectic dinner by myself. And to top things off, this was while my family was out for the evening, and I never have time alone to myself. But that little voice in the back of my head was pushing me to go, so I eventually hopped in my car and left.
As I entered the restaurant, I noticed from the cash register that the restaurant was next to empty, save for one girl who I knew from school. Her name was Tara Kelly and I’d known her since the eighth grade. We’d had at least one class together since then (this year it was AP Biology) and had gotten to know each other real well. She was smart, sweet, Catholic like myself, and was the varsity water polo goalie this year as an 18year old junior (she jad started school late due to her family moving - she was pretty good too).
Oh, yeah, and she was stunningly beautiful. Over the years I’d come to realize my preference for larger women and Tara fit that category. She certainly wasn’t obese, or even anything more than plump or slightly chubby. But she certainly did carry extra weight on her frame, and in all the right places in my opinion.
Ever since I had known Tara, she’d always been fatter than the average girl, but never seemed to be embarrassed about it. As a result, Tara had never dressed like a fat girl in sweats or concealing clothing. This made her a dream for an admirer of big girls like myself. Her t-shirts and jeans always clung tightly to her form, leaving my imagination little work.
As for her physical appearance, the best part was that she had long brown hair that fell down almost to her waist that she sometimes braided. Her round face featured sparkling green eyes and plump cheeks. Her arms carried just enough flab on them to make them look like they were bulging out of any shirt or tanktop she cared to wear. Her belly was simply amazing, one of the primary areas where she carried her weight.
Though I’d never had a good look at it, her tummy usually formed a roll above the waistband of her pants. During class, I’d caught glimpses of the beautiful, soft white skin of her gut when she’d stretch just the right way, but usually she was self-conscious enough to pull her shirt back down again, ending my secret moment of ecstasy all too early. She had quite the set of breasts as well. They were nice and round, larger than your average chick’s rack, my guess was at least a C cup, but I’ve always been a horrible guesser.
Tara also had a nice round, plump ass. In the halls, it was sheer joy to watch it bounce and jiggle behind her with every step, not to mention the rest of her body. Her thighs were near meeting in her jeans, but still had just a little bit of space between them before they started rubbing together. Tara had nice thick hips too that swayed ever so slightly as she walked.
Unlike most guys who were in love with chubbier chicks, I actually had a couple measurements to work off of. When I sat behind her in European History last year, one day as she sat slumped over in her seat I noticed the tag to her Gap jeans were sticking out. I discreetly read the tag and noticed she was a whopping size 16 waist! I had trouble concentrating for the rest of the day. When I got home, I quickly logged onto gap.com and found their size charts. Tara had a 33-½ inch waist and a 43-½ inch hip by their sizes. Needless to say, these numbers only fueled my passion for her.
But, alas! I was not destined for bliss with Tara. Though I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly or anything, I had heard that Tara was dating some jock or other type of guy a long time ago and there was no sign of them ever splitting. I was forced to suffer in silence and secret admiration of this heavenly goddess and the apotheosis of a woman’s true form.
But back to the story. Since the restaurant was next to empty, it seemed a little hollow to pretend like I hadn’t seen Tara and go and sit at the opposite end of the dining room. After all, we’d always been semi-friends and at least greeted one another in class. So after filling my plate with salad and getting my drink, I headed over to her table where she was engrossed in the Biology textbook. She was dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit her beautifully, showing off all her curves. The outline of her bra was easily perceptible through the tight t-shirt.
“Anyone sitting here?” I asked.
Tara looked up with a start, but her surprise soon melted into a smile. “Oh, hi Liam! You’re the last person I thought I’d see here! Sure, have a seat!”
As I set my tray down, Tara closed the textbook and put it on the table next to her where there were two plates already that had the appearance of formerly holding food. In front of Tara was an almost finished plate of spaghetti. She’d obviously been here a while. Why Hometown hadn't cleared away the plates as is their normal custom I had no idea. I sat down next to Tara, rather than across the table from her. For some reason it seemed like the right thing to do.
In a valiant attempt to make conversation, I said, without thinking, “So, come here often?”
The moment the words left my mouth I wished I’d had them back. Not only was it the worst pick-up line ever invented, but since we were sitting in an all-you-can-eat buffet, it probably also came across as, “Do you come here often so you can pig out?” This was not the way I wanted things to be going.
Luckily, Tara seemed not to think about it. “Oh, not really. I just felt like coming here tonight for some reason. It just felt right, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re kidding! Me too! I was just sitting at home and for some reason I wanted to have all the soft-serve ice cream I could eat, even though I’d pay way too much for it.”
Tara laughed. Whenever she did, it shook her entire body so that every lovely inch of flesh jiggled delightfully. “Yeah! That’s it exactly!”
In between comments she had finished off the rest of her spaghetti.
“How’s life?” I asked.
It was a standard line of mine and it sounded a lot better, and much less parental, than “Did you have a nice day?”
“Not bad,” Tara said casually, “My boyfriend I broke up last week.”
I just about let loose a whoop, but caught myself in time. The girl of my dreams was now available again! But I was a pretty smart guy and I kept my head.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said earnestly.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I broke up with him, not the other way around. I’m doing fine.”
Tara looked down and I noticed her eyes starting to well up and I knew that she wasn’t doing very fine. Not having much experience in consoling members of the opposite sex, I wasn’t sure what to do, but some uncontrollable force within me caused me to reach out and grasp her plump hand.
She looked up at me with blurry eyes and I wasn’t sure if she was going to pull away or not.
“Oh, Tara…” I said as the tears began to flow. Before I could stop myself, I drew myself closer to Tara and hugged her. Just as quickly, her arms were around me and our bodies were pressed closer together than I could have ever imagined.
Words could not describe the sensation I felt as we sat there in each other’s arms, Tara crying gently into my shoulder and me crooning meaningless sounds into her ear. Just the fact that I was in my dream girl’s arms had caused me to become incredible aroused. I prayed she didn’t notice, but somehow right then I didn’t really care if she did. I nearly started to squeeze all her soft, sexy flesh, but I restrained myself as I realized that there was huge potential in this situation to realize what I had fantasized about for years. It must have looked slightly silly in the middle of an abandoned buffet, but I’d take whatever I got.
Eventually we pulled apart and Tara wiped her eyes with her napkin.
“Thanks, Liam,” she said, “I really hadn’t done that with anyone yet.”
“Don’t worry,” I said earnestly, “I’m only glad I could help out. But let me get you some more food, you’ve finished your plate already.”
Before Tara could object, I was off to the buffet. As I placed some roast beef onto her plate, I suddenly thought about what I was doing. Why did I have this sudden urge to fill Tara up with food even though I knew she already had had a hearty dinner? But I knew deep down inside that I liked the thought of seeing Tara eat more, and consequently get fatter. So I threw on mashed potatoes with tons of gravy and butter, corn, stuffing, and rolls with plenty of butter.
When I set the tray down in front of Tara, she seemed surprised, but then I saw a light in her eyes.
“Thanks Liam!”
“Hey, my pleasure. There’s a reason you always hear about comfort food: it works,” I said with a smile.
Tara laughed and said, “Um, while you’re up, could you please get me a water?”
“No problem! I’ll be right back, don’t start without me!” I said and then went over to get Tara a drink.
For the record, I had absolutely no intention of bringing her back water. I was thinking a soda would go better with that meal until I saw a new, shiny machine. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that Hometown Buffet now proudly offered milkshakes to all of its patrons. Without a second thought, I grabbed a glass and started the machine. Tara was surprised when I set the tall vanilla milkshake down in front of her with a Coke to wash it down.
“Try some of this, it’s delicious,” I said. I’d made sure to test out the creamy beverage first, and I was sure that it was made with real ice cream.
Tara obediently gave it a sip and I could tell she loved it before she said a word.
“Wow! You weren’t kidding! Thanks!”
As I sat down, Tara started in on the heaping pile of food in front of her. We made idle conversation about school, sports, and anything else that came up. I did most of the talking as Tara spent most of her time eating. I think I enjoyed the meal as much as she seemed to. With every forkful that she shoved into her mouth, I imagined where the added weight would go on her angelic frame.
At one point I had to go use the restroom and excused myself. Before heading in, I peeked around the corner at Tara. She had just finished looking around to see if anyone was watching, though there was fat chance of that considering no one else was in the restaurant and there were probably only two people on staff that night. Then, Tara unbuttoned her jeans and let loose a sigh as the pressure on her bulging belly was relieved. From my vantage point, I had a perfect view of her massive tummy flowing forward and unzipping her jeans a few notches in the process. She quickly covered up her deed with her napkin. Needless to say, I was turned on even more then.
When I returned, we resumed our conversation. I’ll admit, after seeing Tara unzip her pants, I couldn’t really concentrate on much else. Luckily, I was able to keep up the conversation while my mind was elsewhere. I should probably mention that I had also gotten myself a plate of food, so it wasn’t as if I was staring at Tara as she ate. I’m pretty sure it also helped to make her feel more comfortable with the fact she was having another plate herself. I began to get a distinct feeling, which only grew stronger the longer we sat and talked, that our friendship was getting raised to the next level that night.
I was so engrossed in my total adoration of Tara that I was surprised when she set down her fork and leaned back in her chair. Glancing down, I found that Tara had finished the entire helping I had brought back for her, and I was deeply impressed in her abilities to pack it away. I looked back up at Tara just in time to catch her let loose a very undignified, and certainly unladylike, belch. Turning red, Tara squeaked out an apology.
“I suppose that means you liked the food,” I remarked and Tara nodded with a smile, “And it looks like someone’s a member of the clean plate club tonight!”
Tara nodded bashfully and said, “Does that mean I get a surprise?”
“Of course! But you have to close your eyes while I get it.”
(Editor's note: We are happy to bring to oiur Dimensions audience the first instalment of one component of a series of stories interconneted with the Internet's classic and stockiest Water Polo team. The other components include Chelsea, Lynn, and Jenna.)
Tara I: A Buffet To Remember
by the Id
by the Id
I have no idea why I suddenly had the hankering to go to Hometown Buffet one Tuesday evening. For those of you who are not familiar with the establishment, let’s just say it’s not exactly the party spot of any city or town, let alone on a Tuesday night.
I knew full well from prior experience that I was going to pay way too much money for the enjoyment of eating an eclectic dinner by myself. And to top things off, this was while my family was out for the evening, and I never have time alone to myself. But that little voice in the back of my head was pushing me to go, so I eventually hopped in my car and left.
As I entered the restaurant, I noticed from the cash register that the restaurant was next to empty, save for one girl who I knew from school. Her name was Tara Kelly and I’d known her since the eighth grade. We’d had at least one class together since then (this year it was AP Biology) and had gotten to know each other real well. She was smart, sweet, Catholic like myself, and was the varsity water polo goalie this year as an 18year old junior (she jad started school late due to her family moving - she was pretty good too).
Oh, yeah, and she was stunningly beautiful. Over the years I’d come to realize my preference for larger women and Tara fit that category. She certainly wasn’t obese, or even anything more than plump or slightly chubby. But she certainly did carry extra weight on her frame, and in all the right places in my opinion.
Ever since I had known Tara, she’d always been fatter than the average girl, but never seemed to be embarrassed about it. As a result, Tara had never dressed like a fat girl in sweats or concealing clothing. This made her a dream for an admirer of big girls like myself. Her t-shirts and jeans always clung tightly to her form, leaving my imagination little work.
As for her physical appearance, the best part was that she had long brown hair that fell down almost to her waist that she sometimes braided. Her round face featured sparkling green eyes and plump cheeks. Her arms carried just enough flab on them to make them look like they were bulging out of any shirt or tanktop she cared to wear. Her belly was simply amazing, one of the primary areas where she carried her weight.
Though I’d never had a good look at it, her tummy usually formed a roll above the waistband of her pants. During class, I’d caught glimpses of the beautiful, soft white skin of her gut when she’d stretch just the right way, but usually she was self-conscious enough to pull her shirt back down again, ending my secret moment of ecstasy all too early. She had quite the set of breasts as well. They were nice and round, larger than your average chick’s rack, my guess was at least a C cup, but I’ve always been a horrible guesser.
Tara also had a nice round, plump ass. In the halls, it was sheer joy to watch it bounce and jiggle behind her with every step, not to mention the rest of her body. Her thighs were near meeting in her jeans, but still had just a little bit of space between them before they started rubbing together. Tara had nice thick hips too that swayed ever so slightly as she walked.
Unlike most guys who were in love with chubbier chicks, I actually had a couple measurements to work off of. When I sat behind her in European History last year, one day as she sat slumped over in her seat I noticed the tag to her Gap jeans were sticking out. I discreetly read the tag and noticed she was a whopping size 16 waist! I had trouble concentrating for the rest of the day. When I got home, I quickly logged onto gap.com and found their size charts. Tara had a 33-½ inch waist and a 43-½ inch hip by their sizes. Needless to say, these numbers only fueled my passion for her.
But, alas! I was not destined for bliss with Tara. Though I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly or anything, I had heard that Tara was dating some jock or other type of guy a long time ago and there was no sign of them ever splitting. I was forced to suffer in silence and secret admiration of this heavenly goddess and the apotheosis of a woman’s true form.
But back to the story. Since the restaurant was next to empty, it seemed a little hollow to pretend like I hadn’t seen Tara and go and sit at the opposite end of the dining room. After all, we’d always been semi-friends and at least greeted one another in class. So after filling my plate with salad and getting my drink, I headed over to her table where she was engrossed in the Biology textbook. She was dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit her beautifully, showing off all her curves. The outline of her bra was easily perceptible through the tight t-shirt.
“Anyone sitting here?” I asked.
Tara looked up with a start, but her surprise soon melted into a smile. “Oh, hi Liam! You’re the last person I thought I’d see here! Sure, have a seat!”
As I set my tray down, Tara closed the textbook and put it on the table next to her where there were two plates already that had the appearance of formerly holding food. In front of Tara was an almost finished plate of spaghetti. She’d obviously been here a while. Why Hometown hadn't cleared away the plates as is their normal custom I had no idea. I sat down next to Tara, rather than across the table from her. For some reason it seemed like the right thing to do.
In a valiant attempt to make conversation, I said, without thinking, “So, come here often?”
The moment the words left my mouth I wished I’d had them back. Not only was it the worst pick-up line ever invented, but since we were sitting in an all-you-can-eat buffet, it probably also came across as, “Do you come here often so you can pig out?” This was not the way I wanted things to be going.
Luckily, Tara seemed not to think about it. “Oh, not really. I just felt like coming here tonight for some reason. It just felt right, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re kidding! Me too! I was just sitting at home and for some reason I wanted to have all the soft-serve ice cream I could eat, even though I’d pay way too much for it.”
Tara laughed. Whenever she did, it shook her entire body so that every lovely inch of flesh jiggled delightfully. “Yeah! That’s it exactly!”
In between comments she had finished off the rest of her spaghetti.
“How’s life?” I asked.
It was a standard line of mine and it sounded a lot better, and much less parental, than “Did you have a nice day?”
“Not bad,” Tara said casually, “My boyfriend I broke up last week.”
I just about let loose a whoop, but caught myself in time. The girl of my dreams was now available again! But I was a pretty smart guy and I kept my head.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said earnestly.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I broke up with him, not the other way around. I’m doing fine.”
Tara looked down and I noticed her eyes starting to well up and I knew that she wasn’t doing very fine. Not having much experience in consoling members of the opposite sex, I wasn’t sure what to do, but some uncontrollable force within me caused me to reach out and grasp her plump hand.
She looked up at me with blurry eyes and I wasn’t sure if she was going to pull away or not.
“Oh, Tara…” I said as the tears began to flow. Before I could stop myself, I drew myself closer to Tara and hugged her. Just as quickly, her arms were around me and our bodies were pressed closer together than I could have ever imagined.
Words could not describe the sensation I felt as we sat there in each other’s arms, Tara crying gently into my shoulder and me crooning meaningless sounds into her ear. Just the fact that I was in my dream girl’s arms had caused me to become incredible aroused. I prayed she didn’t notice, but somehow right then I didn’t really care if she did. I nearly started to squeeze all her soft, sexy flesh, but I restrained myself as I realized that there was huge potential in this situation to realize what I had fantasized about for years. It must have looked slightly silly in the middle of an abandoned buffet, but I’d take whatever I got.
Eventually we pulled apart and Tara wiped her eyes with her napkin.
“Thanks, Liam,” she said, “I really hadn’t done that with anyone yet.”
“Don’t worry,” I said earnestly, “I’m only glad I could help out. But let me get you some more food, you’ve finished your plate already.”
Before Tara could object, I was off to the buffet. As I placed some roast beef onto her plate, I suddenly thought about what I was doing. Why did I have this sudden urge to fill Tara up with food even though I knew she already had had a hearty dinner? But I knew deep down inside that I liked the thought of seeing Tara eat more, and consequently get fatter. So I threw on mashed potatoes with tons of gravy and butter, corn, stuffing, and rolls with plenty of butter.
When I set the tray down in front of Tara, she seemed surprised, but then I saw a light in her eyes.
“Thanks Liam!”
“Hey, my pleasure. There’s a reason you always hear about comfort food: it works,” I said with a smile.
Tara laughed and said, “Um, while you’re up, could you please get me a water?”
“No problem! I’ll be right back, don’t start without me!” I said and then went over to get Tara a drink.
For the record, I had absolutely no intention of bringing her back water. I was thinking a soda would go better with that meal until I saw a new, shiny machine. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that Hometown Buffet now proudly offered milkshakes to all of its patrons. Without a second thought, I grabbed a glass and started the machine. Tara was surprised when I set the tall vanilla milkshake down in front of her with a Coke to wash it down.
“Try some of this, it’s delicious,” I said. I’d made sure to test out the creamy beverage first, and I was sure that it was made with real ice cream.
Tara obediently gave it a sip and I could tell she loved it before she said a word.
“Wow! You weren’t kidding! Thanks!”
As I sat down, Tara started in on the heaping pile of food in front of her. We made idle conversation about school, sports, and anything else that came up. I did most of the talking as Tara spent most of her time eating. I think I enjoyed the meal as much as she seemed to. With every forkful that she shoved into her mouth, I imagined where the added weight would go on her angelic frame.
At one point I had to go use the restroom and excused myself. Before heading in, I peeked around the corner at Tara. She had just finished looking around to see if anyone was watching, though there was fat chance of that considering no one else was in the restaurant and there were probably only two people on staff that night. Then, Tara unbuttoned her jeans and let loose a sigh as the pressure on her bulging belly was relieved. From my vantage point, I had a perfect view of her massive tummy flowing forward and unzipping her jeans a few notches in the process. She quickly covered up her deed with her napkin. Needless to say, I was turned on even more then.
When I returned, we resumed our conversation. I’ll admit, after seeing Tara unzip her pants, I couldn’t really concentrate on much else. Luckily, I was able to keep up the conversation while my mind was elsewhere. I should probably mention that I had also gotten myself a plate of food, so it wasn’t as if I was staring at Tara as she ate. I’m pretty sure it also helped to make her feel more comfortable with the fact she was having another plate herself. I began to get a distinct feeling, which only grew stronger the longer we sat and talked, that our friendship was getting raised to the next level that night.
I was so engrossed in my total adoration of Tara that I was surprised when she set down her fork and leaned back in her chair. Glancing down, I found that Tara had finished the entire helping I had brought back for her, and I was deeply impressed in her abilities to pack it away. I looked back up at Tara just in time to catch her let loose a very undignified, and certainly unladylike, belch. Turning red, Tara squeaked out an apology.
“I suppose that means you liked the food,” I remarked and Tara nodded with a smile, “And it looks like someone’s a member of the clean plate club tonight!”
Tara nodded bashfully and said, “Does that mean I get a surprise?”
“Of course! But you have to close your eyes while I get it.”
