The Missing Piece, Chapter 2: Fat(test) (Patreon)

Chapter 2 of ? of my latest ssbbw stuck story:

CHAPTER 2: FAT(TEST)

“You know, I’ve heard people say that it’s as hard for a naturally thin person to get fat as it is for a naturally fat person to get thin,” Mel read from her phone as they ate breakfast before going to the flea market.

“I have had heard that, I’ve been afraid of that fact actually,” Simone ate her oatmeal with full fat yogurt now, a half-assed attempt but at least it tasted better. 

Months had past since their heartfelt late night confessions, and the two of them had very little to show for it. There was a brief flash of hope when Melanie gained one pound in the first month but then she lost two pounds the second month. The needle hadn’t moved for Simone at all. 

The discomfort of overeating wasn’t enjoyable or sustainable. They both loved food, but their love of food left them wanting to stop eating when they were satisfied, eating until they felt ill held no appeal, and both being petite meant they had their limits to how far they could push their bodies.

The only bright spot was the introduction to food to their foreplay. It was just fun having ice cream and sex, even if it didn’t make a difference in fattening each other. 

Saturdays at the flea market had been a tradition for years, but now searching for vintage furniture came with a new search, searching for the fattest woman at the flea market.

Admiring other women had always been a part of their relationship. A nod, or a nudge. It was a celebration of the female form in all its variety. But in the months since the revelation it had taken on a more desperately horny tone. They often ended up having sex on Saturdays, wound up by the voyeuristic sights of increasingly round women of the flea market.

Today Melanie was winning the game, having spotted an hourglass woman who was on her way to graduating to spherical, a woman near the food trucks whose hips spilled off either side of her chair and a very round woman left to browsing the jewelry at a fashion truck while her obliviously thinner friends tried on vintage dresses. There was a blink and you miss it moment where she attempted to try on vintage rings but none fit her fat fingers, Simone blinked.

But it was Simone who won in the end, as they were leaving the market, yanked Mel aside by the arm, pulling her behind the sign by the entrance, “look- look”

“Where?”

“The gate.”

Mel’s jaw dropped when she saw her. She wore a very slight summer dress that clinged and stretched across every curve and roll and revealed every jiggle and sway as she waddled up the line. The baking-measurements side of Mel’s brain tried to guess the woman’s weight but it was futile, she was tall, which threw off her usual frames of reference. Being only a hundred and twenty pounds herself it was difficult to fathom weights so high above two or three times her own size but she could imagine this women weighed more than five hundred pounds, six even.

Simone went pale and dizzy, “she’s not -is she?”

“Oh god she is, oh god,” Mel could feel a lump in her throat from the suspense. 

The woman approached the turnstiles to enter the flea market and turned her great frame sideways as she met the gate, though she seemed as deep as she was wide.

They watched breathlessly as the enormous woman bumped herself against the gate, she tried to tiptoe, as if her height could lift her immense belly and butt above the level of the narrow passageway, but even if that had worked, her thighs wouldn’t fit, there was no chance.

“Come here sweetheart I got you,” another fat woman, in a flea market vest waved the super sized woman to the wheelchair entrance the next gate over. 

Too far away to hear but they could see her laughing. Carefree. Unbothered. Unselfconscious. Even though she still had to turn sideways and squeeze through the wheelchair entrance. 

Their gaping stare only broke when the woman finally disappeared down a lane of the market, waddling gracefully like a goddess. 

They drove home in silence, forgetting even to turn the stereo on. 

The moment they closed the front door behind them Simone and Melanie tore off each other’s clothes. The sex was intense, rougher than either were used to but neither could restrain themselves, they threw each other against the walls of the hallway toward the bedroom. 

Kisses so forceful they accidentally knocked teeth like they’d forgotten how kissing works. Even the laughter over their own enthusiasm lasted only a moment before they returned to clawing at each other. 

Never ones to put pressure on synchronized orgasms, they were shocked to find themselves both cumming before they even reached the bed as they fingered each other.  

No cunnilingus, no fisting, no dildos, no strap ons, no vibrators, no anal beads. 

Just the slightest touch of their clits left them both shaking, sweating and out of breath.

Collapsing onto the bed they curled around each other in their usual post-coital cuddle, but there was nothing usual about this. Their minds raced. 

“What if-“ Simone stopped herself.

“What if- we found her” Mel couldn’t stop the words but was also terrified of them.

There was a crazed look in Simone’s eyes, they were scaring each other, “what if we found her.”