~BHM/~BBW, Romance, ~SWG -
"And how am I supposed to answer that?" Ryan bit back the words, tasting the bile that the question had risen.
I mean, were you always overweight? Or is it just a recent thing? Its a lot easier to lose weight if you havent been carrying it your whole life. If we went running together every day and went to the gym together every day, you could probably be back down to a healthy weight in a year! The bubbly bimbo before him flashed too white teeth in what was probably meant to be a flirting smile. Her skin was an unnatural tanned colour, which only accentuated the whiteness of those pearly whites. It reminded him of the dog whisperer.
Her smile faltered a bit, and she brought her elbows together, hands cupping her chin. The practiced gesture only accentuated her thin shoulders, rather than her prepubescent breasts, which were obviously her intention.
So She laughed, a rapid, high pitched noise, sharp and nerve grating. What are your favourite foods?
She was wearing one of those irritating tops which hung loose off of her breasts and hung away from her body in a shapeless fall of fabric. What did Brian call them? Ah yes. Tit curtains.
Uh, hello? Im up here! She tittered, as if he was actually staring at her boyish body.
What food does it look like I like? Ryan asked charmingly, even as his hands clenched under the table, waiting for her to take the bait.
Well it sure doesnt look like there is a food you dont like! her acerbic tone took out any playfulness out of that sentence. She still laughed though, and Ryan laughed with her. Her laughter cut off abruptly as he stood, tossing his napkin down onto the table.
Where are you going? she snapped, offended.
Ive changed my mind. Womans prerogative, dont you know.
You arent a woman, the woman before him stated, as if it wasnt obvious to him.
Ive got a bigger rack than you do, and considering what a dick you are, you are the one who would be wearing the pants, he thought viciously. Normally, his temper was non-existent, but an hour of unsubtle bullying by a woman who had the body of a stick and a face of a horse had him snapping. Internally, he closed his eyes and touched his index and thumb fingers together, casting about for peace. Externally, he gave her what he knew to be his most mild look.
Maam, do I look as if I want to go running and exercise? Do I act as if I would get into a bar fight if someone hit on you? Do I sound as if I am in a band? Did you even read my profile page or look at my picture? The woman seemed so shell-shocked that she didnt even stand when he threw down a twenty and lumbered out of the restaurant.
This was the fourth date this month that his attempts at online dating had produced. Thick fingers fumbled for his car keys in the dim lot. Finding them, he carefully inserted the key into the lock, then just as carefully, he inserted his bulk into the drivers seat. The first had been a woman who looked nothing like her picture. Sixty pounds heavier, and looking as if she had not taken care of herself a day in the twenty years since the picture had been taken. He intensely disliked being lied to and mislead. And, if that wasnt enough, she was uneducated, coarse, and rude. That date had ended when she told him that he was stupid for not having buried his mother in an ecopod, so her body could rot and become one with the earth.
Ryan looked up at the red lights ahead of him, left turn signal clicking away more calmly than his emotions. He shifted his right leg so that the fabric was not so tightly clenched around his soft thigh. The cool summer night flowed over his body, smelling of lilac bushes and pavement. The second had been well enough. Just boring. They had nothing in common, and there had been no connection between them. She was nice, the food was nice, the evening was nice. Even their agreement that they wouldnt see each other had been nice.
The light changed to green, and he eased into his turn. A Tims would certainly hit the spot. The third well. He yawned. He didnt hold to any sexist ideas of women or womanhood, but it was women like that that gave all of womankind a bad name. Her entire focus had been on her looks. Her hair had been dyed, highlighted, and lowlighted. Her nails were done ridiculously long, fake, and a garish colour. Her breasts were obviously fake, and she easily wore more than several thousand dollars worth of clothes and jewelry. She had ordered the most expensive wine and special on the menu, and then grilled him about his salary, job prospects, did he own a house, and other questions on a similar and materialisticvein.
He parked his car, wincing at the tight fit between his car door and the car next to him. He cursed softly as his shirt caught on his window handle. He reached past the sag of flesh at his navel and eased the fabric off the snag. He had been fortunate, he supposed, to avoid meeting someone who was weight focused until the fourth date.
His steps were heavy as he walked inside and took up his position behind a young woman. Her hair was tied in a messy pony tail. He wasnt tall, but he was taller than her. She divided her attention between the iphone in her hand and looking up to see if the cashiers were ready to take her order. On the right till a man was arguing with the bored looking cashier. On the left, the cashier seemed to have been accosted by people he knew, and too engrossed to do his job. The girl in front of him yawned patiently and looked back down at her game. It looked like angry birds.
Next. A third cashier, nearly hidden by the sandwich counter, called out softly. Next. Next. Next.
The girl in front of him was looking at the cashier to the left, obviously not hearing. Hesitating, he eventually touched her lightly on the shoulder. Bright, sapphire eyes turned towards him, questioning, then following his gaze and finger she grinned at him, a flush creeping across her pale cheeks.
Thanks, she said cheerfully. Ryans eyes followed her as she walked the few steps to the counter.
Large icecap made with white milk, she ordered.
That did sound good he ordered the same when he was called. Why couldnt he get a normal date with a normal girl? She seemed normal enough. There had to be hundreds of decent ladies in this city. She glanced his way, noticed he was looking at her, and looked back frankly.
He felt himself flush, and grinned, taking his icecap from the cashier. She smiled back, cheered him with her cup, and walked towards the door. He followed more slowly, maneuvering his bulk past a woman with a stroller and a man who was standing in the middle of the isle for no reason.
He carefully lowered himself onto the curb beside his car, sipping at the smooth, cold, caffeinated drink absently. He hitched at the back of his pants to cover his exposed asscrack, trying to ease the pinch of the cargo fabric under his belly.
This is good, he said aloud, surprised. He always got his large double double, but this was quite a treat. It was like a coffee desert. He sucked eagerly on the straw, realizing ruefully that they had not made his with milk, but with cream. His hand fell to his belly with a sigh, feeling the warm mass move with his breathing. Ah well. It wasnt as if another pound or two would make an obvious difference.
Despite knowing the air to be cool, he was already sweating. He rubbed his forearm across his face to clear the sweat, seeing the cute girl from inside get into a grey sedan. As she pulled past him, her eyes found him sitting between the cars, and she offered another wide smile before exiting the parking lot.
She certainly was cute. He realized his neck was craned around trying to watch her down the road, and with a mental shake of his head, stopped. Pushing himself up from the curb, he smoothed a thick hand down his front, making sure his shirt was in place. The soft skin on his hand contacted the underhang of his belly. Freezing, he realized with muted horror at least two inches of his soft, pale, doughy gut had been wobbling about for the world to see. Worse, for that girl to have seen. He straightened his rebel shirt and realized with a deeper feeling, more resignation than horror, that he was outgrowing is XL shirts.
He sucked in his belly as he squeezed himself into the narrow opening his door allowed him. Resting his head on his steering wheel, he took a deep breath. Damn, damn, damn. And he had been so good the past month, too Salads instead of burgers, juice instead of pop, no late night pizzas, and no polishing off entire bags of chips. This sucked .this entire night sucked.
His little one bedroom bachelor pad had never looked so inviting. His computer sat in the corner, with his two monitors dominating the desk. His keys clinked loudly as they hit the dish, and then again as they fell on the floor. Grunting, he leaned over, the fabric sliding down his ass, biting cruelly at his underbelly. Snatching the keys, he breathed more easily as he stood, now that his lungs were not being compressed between belly and breastbone.
Lumbering into the kitchen he opened the while door, glancing onto the bare shelves with disinterest. He grabbed an apple from the counter, grasping it between his teeth as he unbuttoned his shirt. The button around his navel was snug, and he had to suck in to twiddle the button out. Juice leaked from the punctured skin on the fruit, landing on the top of his belly and sliding slowly around the top curve of his fat, then faster as it reached the thickest point just above his navel, to his underhang. He shivered at the sensual feeling. The shiver made the fat on his back ripple, and he winced.
His phone beeped.
The apple was unsatisfying, and he quickly found himself back in the kitchen, throwing the core away. Every once in a while he didnt really mind being fat, but the everyday inconveniences were what irritated him, and what were driving him to lose some weight. He was always overheating, his thighs chaffed and hurt if he walked for too long. He reminded himself of this as his hand hesitated over the leftovers in the fridge. His stomach always hurt where his pants bit into him. He got out of breath doing simple tasks like lugging his groceries upstairs. His hand withdrew, and reached for some water instead.
Time to get ready for the SLA Industries game tomorrow. He eyed the container sorrowfully as he shut the fridge door. Why was it so much easier to concentrate with food on hand?
Two hours later he hauled himself to his feet, yawning hugely. He brushed his teeth, took a huge pee, and looked around his pad. Well, it was certainly clean enough for the likes of his friends. Time to forget tonight. Because tomorrow tomorrow was Game Day.
Ten to One
by Xyantha
by Xyantha
"And how am I supposed to answer that?" Ryan bit back the words, tasting the bile that the question had risen.
I mean, were you always overweight? Or is it just a recent thing? Its a lot easier to lose weight if you havent been carrying it your whole life. If we went running together every day and went to the gym together every day, you could probably be back down to a healthy weight in a year! The bubbly bimbo before him flashed too white teeth in what was probably meant to be a flirting smile. Her skin was an unnatural tanned colour, which only accentuated the whiteness of those pearly whites. It reminded him of the dog whisperer.
Her smile faltered a bit, and she brought her elbows together, hands cupping her chin. The practiced gesture only accentuated her thin shoulders, rather than her prepubescent breasts, which were obviously her intention.
So She laughed, a rapid, high pitched noise, sharp and nerve grating. What are your favourite foods?
She was wearing one of those irritating tops which hung loose off of her breasts and hung away from her body in a shapeless fall of fabric. What did Brian call them? Ah yes. Tit curtains.
Uh, hello? Im up here! She tittered, as if he was actually staring at her boyish body.
What food does it look like I like? Ryan asked charmingly, even as his hands clenched under the table, waiting for her to take the bait.
Well it sure doesnt look like there is a food you dont like! her acerbic tone took out any playfulness out of that sentence. She still laughed though, and Ryan laughed with her. Her laughter cut off abruptly as he stood, tossing his napkin down onto the table.
Where are you going? she snapped, offended.
Ive changed my mind. Womans prerogative, dont you know.
You arent a woman, the woman before him stated, as if it wasnt obvious to him.
Ive got a bigger rack than you do, and considering what a dick you are, you are the one who would be wearing the pants, he thought viciously. Normally, his temper was non-existent, but an hour of unsubtle bullying by a woman who had the body of a stick and a face of a horse had him snapping. Internally, he closed his eyes and touched his index and thumb fingers together, casting about for peace. Externally, he gave her what he knew to be his most mild look.
Maam, do I look as if I want to go running and exercise? Do I act as if I would get into a bar fight if someone hit on you? Do I sound as if I am in a band? Did you even read my profile page or look at my picture? The woman seemed so shell-shocked that she didnt even stand when he threw down a twenty and lumbered out of the restaurant.
This was the fourth date this month that his attempts at online dating had produced. Thick fingers fumbled for his car keys in the dim lot. Finding them, he carefully inserted the key into the lock, then just as carefully, he inserted his bulk into the drivers seat. The first had been a woman who looked nothing like her picture. Sixty pounds heavier, and looking as if she had not taken care of herself a day in the twenty years since the picture had been taken. He intensely disliked being lied to and mislead. And, if that wasnt enough, she was uneducated, coarse, and rude. That date had ended when she told him that he was stupid for not having buried his mother in an ecopod, so her body could rot and become one with the earth.
Ryan looked up at the red lights ahead of him, left turn signal clicking away more calmly than his emotions. He shifted his right leg so that the fabric was not so tightly clenched around his soft thigh. The cool summer night flowed over his body, smelling of lilac bushes and pavement. The second had been well enough. Just boring. They had nothing in common, and there had been no connection between them. She was nice, the food was nice, the evening was nice. Even their agreement that they wouldnt see each other had been nice.
The light changed to green, and he eased into his turn. A Tims would certainly hit the spot. The third well. He yawned. He didnt hold to any sexist ideas of women or womanhood, but it was women like that that gave all of womankind a bad name. Her entire focus had been on her looks. Her hair had been dyed, highlighted, and lowlighted. Her nails were done ridiculously long, fake, and a garish colour. Her breasts were obviously fake, and she easily wore more than several thousand dollars worth of clothes and jewelry. She had ordered the most expensive wine and special on the menu, and then grilled him about his salary, job prospects, did he own a house, and other questions on a similar and materialisticvein.
He parked his car, wincing at the tight fit between his car door and the car next to him. He cursed softly as his shirt caught on his window handle. He reached past the sag of flesh at his navel and eased the fabric off the snag. He had been fortunate, he supposed, to avoid meeting someone who was weight focused until the fourth date.
His steps were heavy as he walked inside and took up his position behind a young woman. Her hair was tied in a messy pony tail. He wasnt tall, but he was taller than her. She divided her attention between the iphone in her hand and looking up to see if the cashiers were ready to take her order. On the right till a man was arguing with the bored looking cashier. On the left, the cashier seemed to have been accosted by people he knew, and too engrossed to do his job. The girl in front of him yawned patiently and looked back down at her game. It looked like angry birds.
Next. A third cashier, nearly hidden by the sandwich counter, called out softly. Next. Next. Next.
The girl in front of him was looking at the cashier to the left, obviously not hearing. Hesitating, he eventually touched her lightly on the shoulder. Bright, sapphire eyes turned towards him, questioning, then following his gaze and finger she grinned at him, a flush creeping across her pale cheeks.
Thanks, she said cheerfully. Ryans eyes followed her as she walked the few steps to the counter.
Large icecap made with white milk, she ordered.
That did sound good he ordered the same when he was called. Why couldnt he get a normal date with a normal girl? She seemed normal enough. There had to be hundreds of decent ladies in this city. She glanced his way, noticed he was looking at her, and looked back frankly.
He felt himself flush, and grinned, taking his icecap from the cashier. She smiled back, cheered him with her cup, and walked towards the door. He followed more slowly, maneuvering his bulk past a woman with a stroller and a man who was standing in the middle of the isle for no reason.
He carefully lowered himself onto the curb beside his car, sipping at the smooth, cold, caffeinated drink absently. He hitched at the back of his pants to cover his exposed asscrack, trying to ease the pinch of the cargo fabric under his belly.
This is good, he said aloud, surprised. He always got his large double double, but this was quite a treat. It was like a coffee desert. He sucked eagerly on the straw, realizing ruefully that they had not made his with milk, but with cream. His hand fell to his belly with a sigh, feeling the warm mass move with his breathing. Ah well. It wasnt as if another pound or two would make an obvious difference.
Despite knowing the air to be cool, he was already sweating. He rubbed his forearm across his face to clear the sweat, seeing the cute girl from inside get into a grey sedan. As she pulled past him, her eyes found him sitting between the cars, and she offered another wide smile before exiting the parking lot.
She certainly was cute. He realized his neck was craned around trying to watch her down the road, and with a mental shake of his head, stopped. Pushing himself up from the curb, he smoothed a thick hand down his front, making sure his shirt was in place. The soft skin on his hand contacted the underhang of his belly. Freezing, he realized with muted horror at least two inches of his soft, pale, doughy gut had been wobbling about for the world to see. Worse, for that girl to have seen. He straightened his rebel shirt and realized with a deeper feeling, more resignation than horror, that he was outgrowing is XL shirts.
He sucked in his belly as he squeezed himself into the narrow opening his door allowed him. Resting his head on his steering wheel, he took a deep breath. Damn, damn, damn. And he had been so good the past month, too Salads instead of burgers, juice instead of pop, no late night pizzas, and no polishing off entire bags of chips. This sucked .this entire night sucked.
His little one bedroom bachelor pad had never looked so inviting. His computer sat in the corner, with his two monitors dominating the desk. His keys clinked loudly as they hit the dish, and then again as they fell on the floor. Grunting, he leaned over, the fabric sliding down his ass, biting cruelly at his underbelly. Snatching the keys, he breathed more easily as he stood, now that his lungs were not being compressed between belly and breastbone.
Lumbering into the kitchen he opened the while door, glancing onto the bare shelves with disinterest. He grabbed an apple from the counter, grasping it between his teeth as he unbuttoned his shirt. The button around his navel was snug, and he had to suck in to twiddle the button out. Juice leaked from the punctured skin on the fruit, landing on the top of his belly and sliding slowly around the top curve of his fat, then faster as it reached the thickest point just above his navel, to his underhang. He shivered at the sensual feeling. The shiver made the fat on his back ripple, and he winced.
His phone beeped.
Game on for this Saturday?
Yeah man. Always.
Cool. I found a new player btw.
Cool. Make sure he isnt a freak before you bring him over.
Yeah man. Always.
Cool. I found a new player btw.
Cool. Make sure he isnt a freak before you bring him over.
The apple was unsatisfying, and he quickly found himself back in the kitchen, throwing the core away. Every once in a while he didnt really mind being fat, but the everyday inconveniences were what irritated him, and what were driving him to lose some weight. He was always overheating, his thighs chaffed and hurt if he walked for too long. He reminded himself of this as his hand hesitated over the leftovers in the fridge. His stomach always hurt where his pants bit into him. He got out of breath doing simple tasks like lugging his groceries upstairs. His hand withdrew, and reached for some water instead.
Time to get ready for the SLA Industries game tomorrow. He eyed the container sorrowfully as he shut the fridge door. Why was it so much easier to concentrate with food on hand?
Two hours later he hauled himself to his feet, yawning hugely. He brushed his teeth, took a huge pee, and looked around his pad. Well, it was certainly clean enough for the likes of his friends. Time to forget tonight. Because tomorrow tomorrow was Game Day.
