Stacy Gosnell was having trouble sleeping. Not because of her phone's incessant vibrating, no doubt her ex boyfriend Frank, and not because of the starchy new sheets. It wasn't because the bed wasn't hers, and certainly not the low hum of the ceiling fan. It was her partner, Vivian Ratchford, that was keeping her up. Not because of the television that she insisted on keeping tuned to Comedy Central even as she slept, not because of her constant snoring or even her habit of hogging the blankets. No, something... different... had kept Stacy Gosnell up until the wee hours of the morning...
Her eyes travelled over to the sleeping ball of fat beside her, lips curling in disgust as the dome rose and fell heavilly; God, she was disgusting. Being so fat, even declared morbidly obese at such a young age, had to be embarassing. Not for Vivian, Stacy didn't give two shits about this fat cunt. It had to be embarassing for her to be seen with such a cow! But she had to admit, licking this fatty's walls was much better than sharing an apartment with her jackoff ex-boyfriend.
Without thinking, the slender harlot slipped from underneath the covers to visit the facilities; upsetting the suprisingly light slumber of the heavyset hieffer. In a husky voice, Vivian declared, "And just where do you think you're going?" as she struggled to roll over onto her side. Stacy felt dinner crawl back up her throat as she watched Vivian's layers of fat squish against eachother in her attempt to face her, "Oh nowhere, baby." Stacy stammered, "Just- uh, going to the bathroom!" But Stacy knew that was not the case; for this hulking ball of blubber had just laid out her battle cry.
Vivian shook her head, patting beside her engorged mammaries, "Oh, but I thought we could have another go." she said seductively, "You know I love being on top." Unfortunately, Stacy knew all too well about Vivian's preference in regards to sexual position. She shivered slightly at the thought of being suffocated yet again by all that blubber. "B-B-But Vivian, we just did it, like, eight hours ago!" she whined as she flopped her arms to her side, "I'm exhausted!"
Expecting a rational response from Vivian was like expecting lit dynamite to fire confetti; it didn't happen very often. "Okay, fine." the bloated heiress said calmly, upsetting her nervous bedmate. "R-Really, you're not gonna blow up at me like yesterday?" Vivian ignored her question as she shifted back to her slumbering position, "You can just pack your shit and get out then, you scrawny bitch."
Stacy was appalled! Vivian was so fat, so disgustingly fat, yet she acted like she didn't even need her! Like- Like she was so easilly replacable! "Y-You don't mean that." forgetting her trip to the bathroom, Stacy attempted to reason with her main source of income, "You can't seriously mean-"
"Oh I mean it." Vivian said calmly, struggling past her fat neck to look back at her now ex-girlfriend, "I'm getting tired of girls anyway, maybe I'll look up my old boyfriend." she yawns. Stacy was far from convinced, "Oh, I'll bet!" she stammered, far too afraid of losing moochee to sound too intimidating, "I'll bet, you'll be wailing your lonely ass off after a week without me!" Vivian, unphased, imitated snoring, "You're a bitch, you know that?"
"You really wanna stay?" Vivian turns to her, "You REALLY wanna stay?"
"Yeah I do!" Stacy hollers, fully convinced that she's been kicked out and whatever follows is just filler, "So, let's hear it Vi, what can I do to stay with you?!"
A wicked, devious smile crossed Vivian's tripley chinned face. This girl was desperate, willing to do anything. This was gonna be fun....
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