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The Beer Belly Project (Ch. 8)
🕑 Added 2022-12-15 01:56:58 +0000 UTCI’m not gonna look, I’m not gonna check. I’m just going to the break room, and I’m not even going to see if she’s here.
She’d been telling herself this every day for weeks. Her willpower failed every time. She glanced over, even as she chided herself. Bethany’s cubicle was empty, her desk light still off. Looks like she called out again…
They hadn’t spoken. The most fucked up part of the whole thing was that five days a week, she was still stuck in the office knowing that Bethany was right there, just out of sight and out of reach.
Or, on days like today, she was stuck knowing that Bethany hated her so much she couldn’t even bear to be in the same building. So: just another shitty Tuesday, then.
Abigail took a moment to cover her face with her hands and let out a quiet groan. It was only 11am and she already couldn’t fathom how she would make it until 5. She found a task to do and tried to lose herself in it, and she could’ve sworn that at least twenty minutes passed - but no such luck. The clock had only ticked onward by 2 minutes.
By the time ten more minutes had passed, she had told her boss she “wasn’t feeling well” and would be leaving for the day, then bolted out to the parking lot.
She found herself driving to the roller rink, hoping that taking lap after lap would help her forget, or at least soothe her while bad thoughts rolled around her head like loud little marbles.
Once she was at the rink, she laced up her skates and let herself just glide. There wasn’t much going on around noon on a Tuesday, even though it was the middle of summer. A few clusters of kids were skating together. There were a couple chicks wearing serious padding and helmets with a local roller derby team logo on them doing drills. The music played, and Abigail let herself loop around the rink, thoughtless for the first time in weeks.
At one point, she even felt herself smiling a little. The DJ at the rink had let down the old disco ball and turned on some music to match. It felt like a little bit of a balm for her aching heart to skate through the dim light. After a moment of that, though, she felt a pang. Bethany would’ve loved this.
Abigail didn’t stay much longer after that. She returned her rented skates and climbed back in her car. It was hot out, and she decided to treat herself to a slurpee before going home and lying in bed for the next… oh, forever, maybe.
Life was funny, though. Right as she opened the door to step inside the 7/11, someone bumped into her belly-first. “Oh! Sorry, let me get out of your…”
Abigail sucked in a breath. It was Bethany, because of course it was. She looked like a microwaved marshmallow, puffed up and soft. Her round cheeks were bright red with embarrassment. She was in a loose dress, but Abigail had felt how hard her stomach was when they ran into each other and it was obvious she was in the middle of an all-day binge, so stuffed it was impressive she was out and walking in the summer heat. Her wedding ring was almost impossibly tight on one fat little finger, her hand wrapped around the biggest slurpee cup 7/11 sold. She’s really still with him. The observation stung.
They both stood there a beat, staring at each other. Abigail finally cleared her throat and stepped back and to the side. “Sorry to get in your way.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine, um...” Bethany stepped through the doorway and outside. (Abigail tried not to notice how wide she looked going through it.) Again, there was an awkward silence, Abigail holding the door open, stuck.
When Bethany didn’t say anything else, Abigail murmured a “‘Scuse me” and headed inside. She could feel her hands jangling with nerves. Just gonna get my drink and go, she told herself.
Apparently, Bethany had other plans. She walked back into the store and called Abigail’s name. “What, Bethany?” Abigail replied. She had hoped to sound a little caustic, but her voice came out exhausted.
“Do you have to get back to work or anything like that?”
Abigail snorted. “No, I’m playing hooky, same as you.”
Bethany blushed at that. “Then, do you have some time to talk?”
Abigail mused on that as she filled a massive cup full of different flavors of sugary slush. “I guess I do.”
***
They drove to their favorite overlook outside of town, each in separate cars. When they arrived, they parked next to each other and got out. It was awkward, and they spent a few moments trying to figure out where they were going to sit. Bethany was already looking overheated after a few moments standing outside their vehicles discussing it. It was difficult not to admire the gleam on her chubby cheeks as she sweated under the hot sun, the way her sunburnt cleavage glowed…
Abigail ended up getting into the passenger seat of Bethany’s car. The air conditioning was on high, but Bethany was practically steaming as she sucked down a gulp of her drink.
Abigail chose not to start the conversation, wanting Bethany to break the silence. It seemed like hours ticked by in the minute it took for Bethany to begin with a drawn-out, “Soooo…”
Abigail continued waiting, her arms crossed. She tried to keep her face expressionless.
“I’m, um.” She swallowed thickly, her plump hands gripping the steering wheel in front of her tightly, trying to anchor herself. “I’m single.”
Abigail couldn’t hide her surprise at that. “I’m sorry, repeat that?”
“I broke up with Porter.” She took a deep breath, then reached for her slurpee, chugging some of it down to soothe herself. “I filed for divorce first thing this morning at the courthouse.”
Abigail was speechless, mouth agape. “Are you… okay…?” she asked.
“Yes and no. It was the right thing, and I know it means things will be better in the future, but it’s still sad. Saying goodbye to my old life, and what I thought the rest of my life was gonna be.”
“Can I ask why?” Abigail ventured. She still couldn’t process it. She couldn’t stop staring at the ring cinched around Bethany’s finger, her mind churning with possibilities.
Before the question was even fully out of Abigail’s mouth, Bethany leaned over the center console and grabbed the front of Abigail’s shirt, pulling her in for a kiss. The kiss was hot and urgent, and they each tasted like sugar and summer. They broke apart when Bethany sat back in her seat to catch her breath, her hand still gripping Abigail’s shirt like she’d forgotten to let go.
When she had her breath and composure back, Bethany finally answered her. “Because I’m gay. And an idiot. A gay idiot who genuinely never considered that she was a fucking lesbian.” She released her hold on Abigail’s shirt, covering her face with both hands and groaning in exasperation with herself. “Oh my god it sounds so dumb saying it out loud, but it’s true!”
Once again, Abigail didn’t really know what to say. “Con…gratulations?” she muttered, her hand moving to her lips, still tingling after their kiss. She cleared her throat. “Seriously. It’s a big deal.”
Bethany was nodding, seeming to gather momentum for whatever she was saying next. Abigail let herself really see Bethany for the first time in weeks. Her hair was a little wild - not necessarily unkempt, but like she’d merely brushed it and skipped all the styling she usually did. The paint on her nails was chipped and looked like it had been there for a few weeks. And she looked happy. She was trying not to beam after coming out to Abigail, but it was clear she was overjoyed.
“I can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out.” She reached her hand out for Abigail’s and squeezed. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Abigail asked. She lifted up their clasped hands and kissed Bethany’s knuckles. It felt a little risky, but the pink flush that spread across Bethany’s face and neck told her it was the right move.
“For helping me realize. For being there for me. For loving me so hard even though I was a total asshole and completely in denial.”
Abigail felt a twinge of guilt at that. She realized that at some point, if they were actually going to make a go of this, they were probably going to have to talk about Abigail’s preferences - and that Bethany’s weight gain wasn’t random or something she’d done entirely to herself, and that she was likely to keep getting even bigger if they stayed together…
For now, though, she needed details. “Let’s go to my place so we can talk more. I really need to know how you got from ‘let’s just be friends, Abigail’ to ‘I’m gay and divorcing my husband.’”
***
The truth was complicated, but once they both crossed the threshold of Abigail’s apartment, neither of them was particularly interested in parsing it out right away.
Instead, Bethany pressed Abigail against the front door. Putting that extra weight to use, Abigail thought breathlessly as Bethany kissed her. She put her hands on Bethany’s hips and pulled her even closer, sighing as Bethany moaned into her mouth.
They started stripping clothes off each other as they made their way to the bedroom, laughing every time things got a little awkward and a sock hitched on a toe or a shirt hooked on an ear for a bit too long. Right then, no one else existed but the two of them and everything felt easy.
There was no rush. Neither woman had anywhere else to be, and nowhere they’d rather be.
There was a moment where Bethany looked a little uncomfortable as she sat on the edge of Abigail’s bed. It had been a while since she’d been naked with someone new, and seeing her fat belly resting on her thighs had made her feel a little insecure. “I’m sorry if I’m not, um. If I’m too – too fat now. I don’t know what kinds of girls you normally like, but –”
Abigail knelt down and looked Bethany in the eyes. “I like women like you.” She brushed her lips against the soft edge of Bethany’s thigh. “You were my first crush. Did I ever tell you that?” Abigail murmured as she leaned her cheek on Bethany’s knee and looked up at her. The whole moment felt unreal. Everything about it – Bethany’s double chin as she looked down at her, the rolling swell of her stomach completely bare, the pink on her cheeks and the smile on her face, the little stretch marks on her squishy inner thighs – was like something she’d dreamed up when she was 15. But it was all real.
Bethany shook her head, biting back a smile. “You never told me. Was I really your first crush?” She looked pleased with herself, greedy to hear more, and Abigail felt a flash of heat in her stomach. Bethany really was at her prettiest when she was asking for more.
Abigail sat up a little, moving her hands to Bethany’s waist. Part of her wondered how much she should tell her, considered being brave. “You changed everything for me,” she said, her hands squeezing a little. And I changed everything for you, she thought with a familiar twinge of guilt.
“Tell me,” Bethany murmured, leaning forward for another kiss. Corn syrup and blue raspberry.
“I’m worried you’ll hate me,” Abigail said, even as she spread Bethany’s thighs. Fuck, she was so plush. Decadent. Did she want to give this up? She stalled, kissing along her thighs. Bethany didn’t speak, but she wasn’t quiet. She gave a yelp of pleasure as Abigail nipped at the softest part of her inner thigh.
Fuck it, Abigail thought. She took Bethany’s belly with both hands. “I saw you stuff yourself with pizza at a party once, and I’d never felt anything like that before.” She mouthed at the soft roll of belly just beneath Bethany’s deepened bellybutton, tongue laving out to trace around its edges. Bethany was breathless, reaching down between her thighs. “You kept showing off your belly, and I kept thinking, ‘What if she looked like that all the time?’”
“That’s so fucking weird,” Bethany panted. Abigail shifted, pushing Bethany onto her back on the bed, then leaning forward to suck marks into the soft flesh of her breasts.
“Turns out, I like fat girls,” she said, one hand skimming from Bethany’s rounded hip up to the top of her belly. You could stop here, she told herself. You could stop here and everything could be okay.
Bethany pulled Abigail’s hand down between her legs, her hips grinding upward against it, a quiet “fuck” bubbling from her lips.
Abigail kept going. “You know what I like most of all?” she said as she lay beside the girl she’d loved since high school, her fingertips drawing Bethany’s pleasure out slowly. “I like making fat girls.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bethany breathed, her eyelids fluttering. She covered her mouth with one hand, muffling her moans. She uncovered her mouth, eyes squeezed shut, whispering, “Why is that hot?” to herself. Abigail grinned.
“When I saw you at work that first day, all I could think was, ‘Oh, that’s too bad. She’s married, and she’s still skinny.’”
Bethany was close, her breath hitching as she opened her eyes and looked at Abigail. It was hard to read her expression – she was so blissed out Abigail wasn’t even sure she was thinking.
“Didn’t take much to get you to start eating my cooking. All my cooking. You still look so cute when you’re stuffing your face.”
“You did it all on – on purpose,” she said, gasping between words. “That’s so fucked up.” There was a tinge of something in her words – anger, maybe? But she didn’t tell Abigail to stop. “Abigail, I’m so fucking fat. Because of you.”
“You are,” Abigail agreed with a purr, nuzzling against Bethany’s neck. “And wasn’t all that food and booze delicious?”
Bethany came then, and Abigail reveled in it, riding it out with her until Bethany curled up against her, wanting to be held. After she had a moment to catch her breath, she was smiling. “Can’t believe you didn’t even apologize. Just came right out with it.”
“Should I be sorry?” she asked. And, by all rights, she should have. But she didn’t feel sorry.
“Maybe. I’ll decide after you make me dinner.”
Comments
Oh my goddess, that was beyond hot
Douglas Goldstein
Oh my goodness. That was amazing.
