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The Beer Belly Project - Ch. 4
🕑 Added 2021-11-29 16:01:03 +0000 UTCClose to a year of Abigail’s “cooking lessons” passed before Abigail finally observed that Bethany was undoubtedly fat. She was at the size where she was just barely able to squeeze into the biggest straight sizes at regular stores and had started shopping at specialty plus size stores for most of her wardrobe. Abigail knew this because she had accompanied Bethany to the mall more than once. She had been uncomfortably exhilarated the entire time.
That excitement was nothing compared to how she’d felt when Bethany had showed up at her door at 2 a.m. one Saturday, tears streaking down her round cheeks and dragging her mascara with them. She looked ready to burst out of clothes Abigail knew she’d only bought two months ago.
“Bethany? Wha—” But she hadn’t even been able to complete the question. Bethany had thrown her arms around her and started sobbing loudly against her shoulder. Abigail had patted her back and backed up slowly, closing the door behind them as she did.
It was the first time Bethany had ever come over. Abigail’s apartment was old and cramped, with most of the fixtures dating back to the ‘70s, so it wasn’t exactly a fun place to hang out. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to feel embarrassment over the half-dead houseplant by the TV or the walls bare of any decoration.
Somehow, this was true even though Bethany was dribbling tears and drool and snot all over Abigail’s t-shirt as she cried like a child. They wound up sitting on the couch, Bethany’s arms wrapped tightly around Abigail and her face pressed to her shoulder. It took close to twenty minutes for her sobs to quiet enough that Abigail could pass her a box of tissues and ask what was going on.
“W-we had a f-fight,” she stammer-sobbed as she wiped tears and mascara from her eyes.
Abigail’s hackles were up instantly. Bethany took her hand and squeezed it tight as she let out another moaning cry. Abigail ran her thumb over the back of Bethany’s hand. Her heart ached. All she wanted to do was fix it. “What did you fight about?”
Bethany waved a hand and shook her head. “Just stupid shit.” She closed her eyes and then looked at Abigail. “It’s nothing new. You’ve heard it all before. The overtime, the dead bedroom, the blah fucking blah.” She blew her nose angrily and tossed the tissue aside before grabbing a new one. “The only thing that was different tonight was that he called me fat.” She spat the word. “Can you believe it?”
Abigail could definitely believe it. Bethany was significantly heavier than she had been even just a few months ago. Her gain had snowballed. First, it was little gains, just barely filling her out. Now, she had a round gut that ate up inches of her lap when she sat down and thighs that jiggled when she walked. She had round, sloping shoulders and a double chin. Her arms had a thin layer of fat on them, too. Her butt was larger, but it was more wide and flat than thick and juicy, making it a slightly harder sell for a boring little shit like Porter. Her breasts had grown, but they were so dwarfed by the belly they sat upon that it was not hard to imagine Porter not properly appreciating them. “What the fuck?” was the only reply Abigail could offer.
“I know!” Bethany wailed. “I mean, I know I’ve gotten a little bigger than when we first got married, but he was so mean.” Her lower lip trembled as she looked at Abigail, clearly seeking reassurance.
Abigail pulled Bethany into a hug. For once, she didn’t even take a moment to relish their closeness or how soft her friend was getting. She just wanted to provide comfort. “Beth, you are beautiful, and it is not right for him to make you feel like you aren’t.”
Abigail pulled away, and for a moment it seemed like Bethany was disappointed somehow. But Abigail was soon distracted by Bethany’s next pronouncement: “I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me.” She sniffled and said in the tiniest, most hurt voice imaginable, “Asshole.”
For the first time, Abigail couldn’t even react. Her feelings were a jumble. She was royally pissed on Bethany’s behalf, her mind tugging at solutions. Moments later, when she could form words again, she asked, “What can I do to help?”
Bethany broke down into renewed tears, but this time she was more grateful than sad. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she blubbered, collapsing against Abigail again. Abigail pulled her close and stroked her fingers through Bethany’s long hair, no longer worried about what Porter might think or do or say if he knew. Who cared if he knew? Abigail wondered absently how long he’d been cheating, and with who, and how many times. But then Bethany looked up at her, a little smile on her face, and none of it mattered. What mattered was that Bethany felt held and cared for.
They cuddled while Bethany calmed down. Abigail petted her head and rubbed her back, and Bethany nuzzled in closer and stretched out like a fat cat basking in sunlight.
And then they weren’t just cuddling. Bethany sat up and held her face close to Abigail’s. They both knew what was coming. The electric sensation of something forbidden about to happen crackled between them. Neither could’ve said who really started it; they both lunged forward at once, closing the space between them as their lips crashed together. It rattled Abigail’s teeth in a way that just made her want more.
She had been starving for this. She nipped at Bethany’s lips, pulled her in close, shifting until she was lying propped up against the arm of the couch and Bethany was straddling her hips. She could feel every ounce of her soft friend on top of her and could not imagine anywhere else she wanted to be. Bethany ground herself against Abigail and they both moaned at the friction. Abigail grabbed handfuls of Bethany’s love handles, hardly believing she was even getting to touch them. Bethany’s tongue slipped into her mouth and Abigail reached up to palm her tits, squeezing just enough to earn her a pleasured groan.
Abigail slipped a hand into the collar of Bethany’s button-up work shirt, then beneath her bra, and circled her hardened nipple with her fingertips. Bethany hissed loudly and worked herself into a rhythm, grinding herself hard and slow against Abigail. “More,” she demanded breathlessly.
Abigail was more than happy to oblige.
They never took their clothes off. Never went much beyond rubbing up against each other and kissing. There was so much more Abigail wanted to do, but she followed Bethany’s lead, doing her best to read her body and give her what she was asking for.
They wound up lying on the couch together afterward, Bethany’s head resting on Abigail’s chest, both of them breathing heavily as they held each other.
As they were about to drift off to sleep, they were shaken awake by the loud noise of Bethany’s stomach grumbling for sustenance. Bethany looked up at Abigail, a little sheepish. “Do you have anything to eat?”
***
And that was how Bethany had wound up snoring on Abigail’s couch looking like a stuffed pig, just a few bites from busting out of her shirt. Abigail hadn’t had much ready to eat, but Bethany wasn’t picky. She practically cleared all the snacks out of Abigail’s cabinets, plus an entire box of mac and cheese with hot dogs sliced into it that Abigail made for her with extra butter and cheese.
Abigail put a blanket over her guest and watched her for a moment, still not quite believing her luck. She felt like she had won, somehow. She’d gotten everything she wanted: Bethany, plumped up and pretty, asleep on the couch they’d all but fucked on, possibly newly single. There was only one thing missing…
She glanced at Bethany’s hand as it dangled off the side of the couch. Her hands had started getting chubbier. Not quite enough for her to have to take off her wedding ring, though. It was still there, squeezed onto Bethany’s pudgy finger.
Not like it mattered. Abigail couldn’t imagine she’d be wearing that ring much longer, whether it fit or not.
Abigail headed to bed, snuggling down under the covers with a smile on her face and Bethany’s scent woven into her hair and clothes.
