Piper had to do a double take. The exact same sort of double take the family of four had done when she lumbered past them in the parking lot. And that was for the simple reason that the girl in the red shirt was just as jaw-dropping as Piper herself was…..and in exactly the same way. Arms as thick as cushions, and just as soft, awkwardly splayed across the table as her thick fingers wandered across her phone’s screen. A round face, framed by well-kept brunette hair, still flushed with either heat or exertion, possibly both, with all of that padding. Her breasts, which would be spine-bending on a normally sized girl, were barely noticeable, not when compared to the bulging belly fold that was oozing across the table. Even from a first glance, Piper could tell that much of Dakota’s weight had settled in her lower half. Hell, there was a solid half-foot of hip hanging out of the edge of the booth, where she had either run out of room or gotten tired of squeezing herself into the tight confines. Speaking of, Piper wasn’t looking forward to getting herself in there. The gap looked barely bigger than her mom’s Buick.
Then again, the little chairs that they had around the other tables stood no chance against her weight.
“Erm……huff....Da…Dakota?” Piper took a few shuffling steps around the decorative screen, bringing most of her vast body into Dakota’s view. God her knees hurt. And her back. She needed to sit down.
Dakota looked up, third chin vanishing as her neck fat shifted. “Piper! I was getting worried!” Naturally, Dakota made no effort to stand and greet her friend. Instead, she did the far more reasonable thing of gesturing for her to sit down across from her. It took a lot of effort to get herself seated, and her shirt almost immediately rode up until it hardly covered any of her belly, only stopped in it’s upwards ascent by the edge of the table, which dug sharply into her gut. Her tits dragged across the faux wooden surface as she shimmied herself along, the bench groaning in protest almost as much as Piper herself was. It was somehow more difficult than walking to get herself situated. For more than a few moments after she was eventually settled, Piper could only huff and puff, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead and chins. Dakota looked across with a mixture of excitement and apology. “Sorry about the seating. It said it was a big booth when I booked it, but I guess we’ve got different standards of ‘big’, huh?”
“It’s…..phew…..fine….” Piper gasped. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still shocked her just how poor her fitness was. Guess that’s what I get for never going further than the kitchen…Feeling the need to say something, Piper decided to address the elephant(s) in the room. “So, uh….guess neither of us wanted to mention, y’know….” She gestured at the flab that was engulfing the booth. There was probably more weight in the fat that had pooled over the table’s surface than most people had on their whole body.
Dakota laughed sheepishly. “Well, it’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up, is it? ‘Hey, just wanted to mention that I’m reality-show fat, no biggie!’ Doesn’t exactly slip into conversation, does it?” The two girls laughed, fat bouncing in harmony.
“I guess not.” Piper reclined, as much as she could, anyway, feeling far more relaxed than she had been ten minutes prior. Sure, it was surprising to see another woman as fat as she was, but at least her friend wasn’t going to start filming her to post on social media for clicks. And, with her nerves fully calmed, there was only one thing that could come next.
GGRRROOOOOOWWWWLLLLLL
GGRRROOOOOOWWWWLLLLLL
In time with one another, the two obese girl’s stomachs let out their mating call. In any other company, Piper might have felt embarrassed. With Dakota, though…
“How about we get some grub ordered? I’m starving!”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Dakota grinned, waving a wobbling arm to attract a waitress’s attention. The girl who came was hardly the picture of athleticism herself, but compared to the level of obesity that Piper had grown used to, she was practically a gymnast. “Yeah, can I get a strawberry milkshake, a chocolate one, too, and let’s see……..two orders of cheese fries, twenty chicken wings, and two….no, three bacon cheeseburgers.” She looked to Piper as the waitress was still scribbling. “What’re you having, Piper?”
Piper, having memorised the menu to every fast-food place long ago, wasted no time. “I’ll have three chocolate milkshakes, one blue cheese hamburger, one BBQ bacon burger, one Route 66 burger, and one plain cheeseburger, all with fries, plus two sides of mac ‘n’ cheese.”
The girls ignored the waitress shaking her head as she walked away, pages of writing being torn off for the kitchen, as they began to chatter. They talked about their latest match of Hunt, the upcoming games they were looking forward to, and bantered a bit about each others’ skill levels. Even the arrival of their feast didn’t put a dent in their conversation, each girl having enough to say that the other could make decent progress on her own mountain of greasy food before responding. Strangely, very little of their conversation revolved around their shared weight and the issues it brought. Maybe they both considered it self-evident. Maybe they both just wanted to forget about such things for the time being. Certainly, it made it that little bit easier on the conscience to gorge when one wasn’t thinking about the fact that one could hardly walk across a room without needing to stop for breath.
“As if you would beat me at Civ without playing some broken faction!” Dakota gestured at Piper with a fry, dripping ‘cheese’ and mayonnaise. Grunting just a little as she retracted the weight of her arm and leaned back to pop the fry into her mouth.
Piper smirked as she swallowed the last of her fourth burger. “Oh, is reading up on the mechanics cheating now? Sounds like a skill issue to me!” She fished around for something else to occupy her mouth, and found naught but a few dregs of milkshake. One fat hand massaged one of her many rolls. Despite the frankly absurd level of calories she had already consumed, she still didn’t feel full. Plus, there was the terrifying fact that once she stopped eating, she would be expected to move. “So, uh, Dakota. You feel like maybe….I dunno, getting dessert here?”
“Girl, you read my mind.” Dakota wasted no time in grabbing the menu once more. “Oh, sweet, they’ve got party sundaes! Excuse me? ‘Scuse me, can we order?” She called out, getting the same incredulous waitress from before. Without any hint of embarrassment, the girls ordered a pair of party-sized sundaes apiece, as well as more milkshakes. “Any, back to the main topic; I want a rematch, and this time I’m gonna pick your faction.”
Piper snorted. “What, so you can stick me with someone like the Celts? No thanks. Just stop being a sore loser.”
“Hmmm? Sounds like you’re not that confident in your skills, Piper. I’d think you would be up for the challenge.” Dakota shrugged, meaty shoulders briefly rising, before dropping with a slight slapping sound as her rolls impacted. “Guess you’re just scared after all.”
“Who’s scared?! Alright, we’ll make a wager - you pick my faction, and whoever loses has to pay for dinner next weekend!”
“You’re on!”
As the dessert arrived, it was hard not to think about how much of a wager paying for dinner would be. The oversized bowls took up a hell of a lot of space on the table, even though the plates had been cleared away from the main course. The girls continued to bicker about their respective skill levels as they dug in, undaunted by the prospect of a level of dairy that would happily sate a child’s birthday party. Two bellies grew more and more distended, pushing out under the table, and beginning to cause a little discomfort to their owners. Naturally, not enough for them to stop eating, or even for the thought to enter their minds. In actuality, this caused them to pick up the pace, conversation thinning out as they attacked the ice creams with single-minded determination. Various creaks could be heard from the booth, as clothing and furniture alike protested at every slight motion the pair made in the pursuit of yet more empty calories to convert into soft blubber. Small rivulets of melted ice cream ran down into Piper;s vast expanse of cleavage, just as drops of chocolate sauce began to pepper Dakota’s red shirt. Such things were inevitable with how heavy their arms were becoming with their flagging stamina.
Somewhere around the end of the second sundae, PIper began to feel the first pangs of fullness. Obviously, this wasn’t a call to stop, just a reminder not to call for more. With that sensation, a few others that her gluttony had been blocking out began to reappear. Most notably, the tourniquet-like feeling of her jeans around her middle. Already tight when she had . struggled into them, they were now nothing short of painful. She could feel every minute stitch on the supposedly stretchy material as it pulled across her enormity. Fortunately, she didn’t have to tolerate it for all that long.
PING
RRRIIIPPPPP
Once again, the two girls were almost completely in sync, as their respective lower clothing articles succumbed to the fullness of their tums. Piper’s jeans popped open, just as Dakota’s leggings tore. Both girls breathed long sighs of relief.
“Gawd, that feels…URP….good….” Dakota groaned.
“Fuck yeah….but ….BWORP…..these were my biggest pair….” As stuffed as she was, Piper struggled to care all that much about the reality of outgrown the biggest pair of jeans she had been able to find.
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