"Fat Trimmings" Volume 7

“Coconut Queen”

Isn’t she glorious all covered in coconut oil? That’s what keeps all those folds of fat stretch mark free and pillowy soft. She’s positively glistening under handfuls of coconut oil that cover her entire naked body. It takes a lot to keep a body this big well lubricated. A lot of coconut oil which means a lot of money and a lot of time. But the money is well worth it. And the time? Well, time is the best part of the whole thing.

Start with her cankles. They’re already bigger than some people’s thighs, and they need a lot of love. All that weight and so little exercise means these poor things don’t get quite as much circulation as they should and that can lead to dry cracked skin, so extra coconut oil is a must.  Slide those hands across mountain ridges of fat as you make your way up to the thighs.

It’s like a quivering sea full of a storm of thunderous cellulite. You shake and they tremble as the flesh squeezes and oozes out between your fingers. And try as you might you can’t contain all that meat in one hand. Trying to palm an ass cheek is like trying to palm a basketball if that ball was made entirely of playdough. You can sink you fingers into it and still watch her fat roll over your fingertips.

Sink your thumbs into some juicy love handles as you start to work what used to be the muscles in her lower back. Everything is thick with fat now, and you can squeeze her sides like a memory foam pillow that morphs right back into place. Watch as her back fat rolls out like dough under your palms, a fitting reminder of what all that pizza gorging has led to.

Slap that ass and watch her whole body quiver.

She whimpers. She moans. She’s longing for it now, longing for your touch- and for more food, always more food. She’s a good horny cow all lubed up and ready to go. Squeeze the fat around her hips, slap that bouncing belly as you ride her from behind. A squeal cuts through the air and is joined by the sound of pendulous breasts slapping together.

When she finally collapses in ecstasy, it takes all your strength to flip her over because you’re not quite done yet. Now that she’s fed her lust, it’s time for more cake.

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“Vacation Booty”

She’s packing those post vacation pounds. You can see it in her butt as it bounces around with every step that she takes. She’s got a “calories don’t count when you’re on a cruise” caboose. It’s not nearly as firm as it used to be. That’s a result of too much sitting around sunbathing while snacking. But her butt’s not the only thing bigger about her.

From the side it’s pretty clear that she’s got a buffet belly going on. Any bit of tone she prided herself on has been erased, and sexy sport clothes she wore on the trip now make her look a little funny with the fresh bit of pudge that is peaking out for all to see. It’s even got a nice bit of bounce to it, this open bar belly that pairs nicely with her late night desert derriere.

Her bra looks like it’s straining just a bit too. She’s lugging around a fresh pair of bottomless mimosa mammaries. All told she definitely looks like, as her catty friends will say, “she really enjoyed her vacation.”

She had promised herself she was going to workout on the cruise, to avoid this exact kind of thing. But I guess a few drinks made her less likely to swim some laps and far more likely to just snack while sunbathing by the pool. And the hangovers must have made those pulse pounding hiking excursions she planned for sound like nightmares. Of course, nothing beats a hangover like platefuls of greasy, fatty food.

There are definitely some well stained shirts that no amount of laundry detergent can save. It doesn’t matter though. She’ll be completely growing out of those soon anyway, just like she already did with the shorts that will no longer button. Soon it’ll be time to upgrade her whole wardrobe and fill her closet with fat girl clothes.

See. It’s not just the extra vacation pounds she’s picked up. It’s all those bad vacation habits that she’s gained as well. She’ll be snacking all the time now. And it’ll be easy to make sure she’s eating bigger meals now that developed more room for them. Sit ups get harder to do with that new paunch in the way. And once the exercise starts to be more difficult, she’s going to start slacking off even more.

Snacking and slacking is a dangerous combination.

Yup, she’s already close to getting chubby, and she’s going to grow into a real big girl soon. Next time she goes on a cruise, she’s going to be making a real pig of herself at the buffet.

Oink. Oink.

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“Fair Food”

“Get hypnotized.” they said. “It’ll be fun.” they said.

So yeah, she gave it a whirl. And what did she come away with? Nothing, not even a funny story about standing on her head or clucking like a chicken. Lousy county fair hypnotist. Wasted her time. With a disgruntled sigh she made her way over to the nearest fried food stall. There was only one thing she walked away from that hypnotist with-

A rumbling in her stomach.

She had always been a health nut, an early to rise for a run, fruit smoothies for breakfast, salads for lunch kind of girl. Her dietary habits were often more akin to rabbits then to the other people she occupied her time with, and her penchant for preaching about the benefits of eating “clean” had a real knack for rubbing her friends the wrong way. But this- this was turning out to be a very different kind of day and a very different kind of day.

One might call it a hankering.

It was a strong desire, one burning deep down in the pit of her stomach calling for deep fried food. Crispy, greasy food, that’s what she needed in her belly. And she started with an order of funnel cake smothered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce. She shoved it into her waiting maw not caring for how much of the delicious cream she smeared on her cheeks and fingers. Chocolate sauce dabbed her nose as she tore into the fried dough like an animal.

But that wasn’t enough. No- with her new found hunger- that wasn’t not nearly enough. Next she had to practically deep throat a corndog, tearing it clean off the stick with all the tenacity of a swarm of piranhas attacking a cow. And what’s better than one corndog? A second corndog devoured nearly as quickly.

It was a sight to behold, something that had to be seen to be believed, this slim woman suddenly making a pig of herself, stuffing herself full of greasy junk food like she hadn’t eaten in weeks and needed it to survive. Strangers might have been concerned, but her friends were full of amused giggles as they watched the former health food freak dig into an order of fried Oreos with a Nutella dipping sauce.

That’s who she is now, a junk food junkie, someone who can never say no to anything fried. And, of course, all that fried food always makes her feel heavy and tired which means those early morning runs are out. Any form of exercise has been cast aside except for the steady arm motions that come with stuffing her face with potato chips and pizza.

She’s getting to be a big girl now, with her runner's thighs now as thick as her waist used to be and a deep fried fed double belly that bubbles over her yoga pants (worn now because they’re the only things that come close to fitting not for any meaningful physical activity.) It’s all quite a disappointment to her, but she just can’t seem to help herself.

Her friends enjoy her a lot more this way.

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“What If” (Part 7)

What if she tries stripes?

Stripes are slimming. Right?

But nothing is going to do much slimming for her now. She is rapidly outgrowing her clothes. The pants she bought as “fat pants” for her period days went from being loose, to snug, to stretched out, to busted. They’ve been totally replaced once and are in need of being replaced yet again. And her tops haven’t fared much better, especially the ones with buttons.

Any of her buttoned down blouses have since burst. Her big bulging belly has taken care of that. And looking at her now, it’s easy to tell that this next shirt is one big meal away from having some of its strained buttons just give up and go pinging around. They’d be lucky not to end up in anybody’s eye.

The eye damage is pretty avoidable nowadays because she does most of her eating at home, sitting on her couch, gorging herself on whatever kind of fast food strikes her fancy that day. Yes. The days of fancy restaurants seem well behind her, as do the days of salad or anything remotely healthy. The former queen of self control is a junk food junkie now, constantly needing a fix of salt and fat and frequently hopped up on sugary snacks. She’s a grease queen as she lounges about with her ponderous pot belly hanging out and lazily spilling onto her lap.

What can she eat next? That’s the question that constantly plagues her mind. Sometimes it is switched up with the variant: What SHOULD I eat next? That at least implies the idea that she might try to eat something not absolutely loaded with empty, fattening, calories.

What if she tried dieting? Could she do it? Could she go back to the days of fruits and vegetables that were baked into a pie or deep fried and dipped in ranch dressing? What if she could get a hold of herself? Could she be thin again?

When she looks in the mirror she knows that this is true. Even though she has a big rolling stomach that tumbles over the waistband of her ill-fitting yoga pants, button bursting breasts, and thick thunder thighs, she knows that she is not yet past the point of no return. She can still turn things around if she wants to.

But does she want to?

Does she really want to go back to being slim and admired by all? Or does she wish to continue this path of indulgence despite the fact that it has cost her so much socially?

What path will she follow? What will she choose?

And what will she eat next?