HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know, I know. "Come on Mel, that's gotta be overkill!" But it's not. Not at all. This girl was absolutely massive. She was bigger than I was, and it wasn't even close. I don't think I had ever felt so small in my entire life, and I made it through Buttercombe. I couldn't help but to just stare here up and down
Her long auburn hair fell in locks to her shoulders, framing her fat face perfectly. Her cheeks were so chubby that her bright green eyes were pushed slightly closed. Her jowls cascaded down the sides of her face, past the cute little button of her actual chin into the second, third, and countless other chins beneath. The lowest of these chins fell into the crevasse that was her cleavage.
The brown apron, probably large enough to cover four fully grown men on its own, and the maroon polo behind it were no match for the boulders hanging off of her chest. Easily twice the size of my own titanic titties, her breasts were trapped in an obviously too small bra, pouring over the top and bulging into the relative freedom of her unbuttoned polo. The freedom inside the shirt wasn't enough though, as they squeezed their way free upwards through the collar's opening, bubbling up slightly, forming a long canyon of tightly squeezed together cleavage that rose and fell with every breath. How she could even reach the register with her flabby arms stretched out from her apron was beyond me. Her upper arms folded over at the elbows, making rolls that would make some girls stomachs jealous.
Her belly hid below her tits. And when I say hid, I mean hiding in the way a kid covers his eyes and says "you can see me." Her belly extended far enough in front of her to create a small shelf, making a crease in the apron that was trapped between her massive boobs and that giant gut. Though the apron hid them slightly, you could see the edge of at least two rolls making there way through her belly. Her ample love handles were on full display, flying out from the sides of her apron. They poured over the sides of her pants, creating countless rolls piled up over where the waist would have been. The lowest of these was bare, as the poor polo she was wearing had been stretched well past its furthest limits containing even the higher handles. She could only imagine her bare belly hanging out behind the apron, quivering with every little movement...
The counter was low enough that you could see her hips just below her copious love handles. The seams on her pants were stretched and seemed to be whining with every movement, just waiting to blow out catastrophically. The fabric was stretched so tightly that I swear I could see through it, not that any underwear would be visible behind her countless rolls. Mercilessly, the counter blocked any view of her thighs and below, though I know they had to be quite beefy to support all of the lard weighing them down. My angle also blocked any chance to sneak a peek at her ass, though I can only assume it was ample. Based on how she was standing, It almost seemed as though she was leaning on the wall behind her, even though it was feet away.
I was awestruck. Here I was, on a date with some guy that seems to be going well, and I'm hit with this! Fuck me right? I didn't know if I was turned on or jealous. I mean, she made me feel... skinny. I wanted those rolls on me. I wanted all that fat weighing me down. I wanted my god damn tits to be so huge they were literally popping out of the biggest shirt I've ever seen!
"I assume you came here for drinks and food. Can you just ring yourself up? It's dead and I need a break," she continued.
"Sure... uh, ya... I can do that. See you Danielle." I'd never tell him, but thank god he said yes! As she waddled around the counter and out through an alarmingly large set of double doors, her ass came into full view. It was beautiful. Two globes, each the size of a beach ball, fighting to free themselves of the tyranny of pants that were way to small. The tops of each cheek poured over the waist of her pants, pushing her exposed back rolls higher. She didn't even try to fix her polo, just letting it ride further up her rolls with every step.
She squeezed her way through the double doors, and suddenly it was just Alex and I again. I had just sat there for what seemed like forever, gawking over gluttony made incarnate, and suddenly I realized I was supposed to be on a date.
Alex slipped behind the counter, apparently deciding not to mention my obvious lady boner for his ex-girlfriend. He simply asked, "So you said you were hungry?" He sheepishly grinned and motioned to the largest pastry display I had ever seen, let alone ignored, in my whole life. First a girl who makes me feel small, and now a pastry display that Zeus himself would struggle to fully comprehend. What could I possibly say?
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