This was Corey's time.
He walked up to the booth where this gorgeous glutton was sitting, “Hi, uh, do you mind if I sit here?”
The girl, at that moment, seemed more concerned with the discomfort caused by her indulging, but she found time between grimacing at the pain of having eaten enough food to give an elephant a distressingly full stomach, to nod. Corey sat himself down and began introductions. Nothing fancy, just a simple, “My name's Corey, what's yours?”
In response, she burped. Loudly.
A look of relief flooded over her face with that, and finally, she answered, “Whoop! 'Scuse me!” her pink cheeks flushed brighter with embarrassment, “I'm Lincoln.”
“I don't mean to pry, or anything. . .” began Corey, “but I saw you over here, and you were looking pretty upset. I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it?” There was a second where Corey sat there nervously, unsure of what would happen next. Would she be willing to talk? Or would this be the moment that she walked, well, considering how much she'd just eaten, waddled away?
He crossed his fingers.
Lincoln sighed, “I guess. I mean, it's just been a really shitty day, know what I mean?”
Corey nodded, “I think I do. What exactly, though? Like, what specifically made it shitty?” All Corey was looking to do was start a conversation with the girl of his dreams, maybe start a relationship with her that could take steps further. He didn't expect her to be as open and honest as she was.
Lincoln slumped a bit in her chair, contorting her cute, fat face in thought before sighing and muttering, “Only just met you, dude, but what the hell. Here we go.”
And with that, she started talking, and Corey just sat back and listened to her tale of woe.
“Basically, I woke up, and from there out, things were shit. Like, straight off, things went bad. Put on my bra, thirty seconds later, the hook rips off the strap, and I'm left there just, like, 'what the mess?' Can you believe that, I mean, look at me, yeah, I'm fat as frick, stupid fat, but you know what, I may got the ass of a world record donut eater, but I'll be damned if my tits got any bigger out o' all that!” She placed a hand over one of her unsupported breasts, giving it a quick heft, testing its weight, and dropping it a second later, letting the juicy flesh bounce and jiggle, contained within it's fabric confines. She shrugged, “Don't seem any bigger, but damn, they're big enough, I guess. Big enough to screw up the last decent-looking bra I own.”
She paused for a second, then let out another belch worthy of a trucker, “Whoops, sorry about that! Ate too much, too fast, you know, got a belly full of noodles and air. Gotta come out somehow, you know?” She set her hand back down on round dome of her stomach, the motion sending ripples across her soft, doughy body, and causing yet another burp, “'Scuse me. There we go again! Belly like this, quick eater like me, 's a recipe for a girl getting her gut full of air that wants to get out. Probably about a ton and a half of noodles down there, too, from the feel of it, the only difference is that they ain't trying to escape! All they're doing is fighting over how exactly I'm gonna be fatter 'cause of all this. Whether they're want to make it so it's my ass or my gut that's too fat for anything when I wake up tomorrow.” Thoughtfully, she started massaging the exposed expanse of her meaty thighs, “I'm guessing. . . right here. Yep, I'm gonna wake up tomorrow feeling bloated as all get out, try to put on my pants, get halfway up over these damn tree trunks I call my thighs, get my fat butt stuck, freak out, fight with my pants for probably like, I dunno, thirty minutes, then give up,”
A glazed look crossed over her face as she walked through the steps tomorrow would likely contain, in a bored voice, “throw on some sweatpants, drive to the mall, buy some frickin' size 34 wide, or whatever the heck stupid size it takes to cover my giant booty, extra, extra, extra, extra, extra large, quadruple XL, or whatever. Maybe even get the next size up from that for whenever I get bigger. Then I'd stop by Victoria's Secret, get me a new bra in the next size up, and then, knowing my fat self, I'd convince myself to do something ridiculous, like go by Cheesecake Factory to celebrate me finally being a DD cup, and like always, if I do that, I'm gonna end up eating until I'm way too frickin' full, just like I am right now, and that's just gonna restart the whole dang cycle.” Suddenly, it was like she remembered where she was, and what she was saying. She snapped out of her reverie and began apologizing, “Oh god, I'm so sorry, I just went off in my own little world for a second there!”
Comfort Eating
Start from the beginning
