chapter 5

"Hey there, sugar!" Betty said as she opened her front door.

"How you doin' Ms. Reynolds?" The grocery delivery guy asked.

"I'm doin' great, sugar, how 'bout yourself?"

"Ah, I can't complain. We were starting to worry, we haven't heard from you in a while!"

"Hahahaha, oh sugar, I'm fine! Just been eating a lot of takeout lately is all! Just what I need, right?" Betty chuckled, patting her tummy.

"Oh, stop it! Nothin' wrong with a gal who knows how to enjoy a nice meal!"

"You're such a sweetheart, Stew. Could you be a dear and bring all that food on inside for me? I'll be sure to compensate you at tip time!"

"It'd be my pleasure Ms. Reynolds."

Betty knew everyone at her local grocer, as she was obviously a frequent and major client. Delivery drivers would fight to bring her her orders because of her reputation as an incredibly generous tipper. None of them minded bringing the food inside Betty's house for her because they knew they'd be paid handsomely for it.

"Y'know Stew, I'm having a barbecue this weekend. You and Monica are more than welcome to stop by. I sent out invites on Facebook but I always end up forgettin' someone..." Betty said.

"Ha! So that's where all these burgers and hot dogs are going!" Stew replied.

"Hahaha, oh sugar, even I couldn't eat all those myself!"

"When is it, Sunday?"

"Yep! This Sunday."

"I'm working 'till five, but I think Monica and I will make an appearance."

"Great! I haven't seen Monica in a while, it'll be nice to catch up with her."

"Well you know how much she loves your brisket..."

"Hahahaha, everyone does! It's always the first thing I run out of, every time!"

That Sunday, Betty was hard at work preparing for the barbecue. Her house had a nice, big, backyard, and she paid one of the neighborhood boys to set up tables all over the backyard, each one surrounded by four custom built extra sturdy lawn chairs, each with a weight limit of 900 pounds. They featured adjustable armrests that would spread out automatically if the person sitting in it was on the heftier side. Off to the side of the yard were Betty's grills, her pride and joy, two top of the line Webers, which she would be alternating between simultaneously. Much too fat to stand at a grill all day, Betty had adjusted the grills to be accessible from her "throne", a massive, luxurious, cushioned lawn chair that cost her several hundred dollars. It featured a cup holder in the armrest and "BIG MAMA" written on the back of it.

Betty was an excellent hostess, and had two coolers set up, one packed with beer, the other with soda. There was also a table with several different types of liquor and soda to make cocktails with. She'd had one of the neighborhood boys do the majority of the heavy lifting, but still had to bring all the food out. Betty was always anxious in those final hours before people would start showing up, and waddled in and out of her house, sweating and out of breath, her flabby arms loaded with meats and cheeses.

"Whooooo... Whoooooooo..." She gasped as her heart rattled around in her chest and her throat burned.

Betty stood there, fanning herself with her hand, sucking down deep, heaving, breath after deep, heaving, breath. She'd been winded before, but never THIS winded. She began to hyperventilate as she panicked, struggling to catch her breath, her arm trembling as she leaned on her throne. Her head began to feel light and she thought she might faint, but she still had the wherewithal to plop her fat ass down into the seat and take a load off.

Slowly, Betty began to catch her breath again, and her heartrate returned to its natural rhythm. Lighting a cigarette, she called up Mitch, one of her old boy toys who she knew was coming by anyway.

"Hey Big Mama..." Mitch said as she picked up the phone.

"Hey, sugar... Listen... I need a favor..." Betty panted.

"Are you alright? You sound like you're out of breath."

"I'm alright, honey, just... You're coming by tonight, right?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of coming through around three or so."

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you come over right now and just help me finish setting up. You don't have to do any heavy lifting or anything like that, it's really easy stuff, Mitch, I'm just so tired..."

Mitch sensed Betty's desperation and exhaustion and felt bad. It had been a while since he'd seen her, but he genuinely liked her and was always down to make some easy money.

"You sure you're OK, Betty? I mean, I'd be happy to come by and help out. I can leave now, if you want..."

"Oh sugar I'm fine, I just... I left a bunch of stuff to be done at the last minute, and uh, I'm a little overwhelmed, y'know?"

"Alright. Well hey, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Sound good?"

"That sounds wonderful, sugar. Thank you so much."

"Alright, talk to you soon."

Betty reached for a bag of chips and tore it open, shoveling a handful into her mouth, stress and anxiety driving her ravenous appetite. She was wearing a navy blue dress that showed off her enormous tits and clung to her big belly. With Mitch on his way, Betty decided to take a moment in the bathroom and gather herself. She waddled inside, taking it slow, as she didn't want to have a heart attack at her own barbecue. Taking a few deep breaths, she wiped the tears from her eyes and washed her face, returning to the warm, "Big Mama" demeanor her guests expected from her.

"Hey, sugar!" Betty squealed as Mitch made his way to the yard.

"Hey, Betty..." Mitch said, the surprise evident in his voice. He hadn't seen Betty in almost a year, and she'd put on quite a few pounds since then. As she wrapped him up in her blubbery embrace, Mitch's eyes were wide with shock, which he naturally tried to hide as best he could.

"Follow me into the kitchen, sweetheart, I'll show you what I need you to do. It's super easy, and it'll only take a few minutes..."

Betty waddled into the kitchen, and Mitch watched as she turned sideways and shuffled her fat ass through the sliding door. They stopped in front of the dining room table, which was covered in hot dogs, burger patties, buns, ribs, and other food.

"I just need all this brought outside, by the grill. I was doing it earlier, but my damn joints have been acting up on me lately, so it's hard for me to get back and forth. There's plenty of beer in the cooler out there, take your time, and gimme a shout if you need anything. Oh, and here..."

Betty rooted through her purse and pulled out a crisp $100 bill, handing it to Mitch.

"There you go, sugar. Thank you so much..."

"Betty, it's really not a big deal, you keep it..."

"Don't you start now, I insist. We've been through this before and I have a barbecue to cook for, so please..."

Mitch sighed and took the money.

"That's a good boy."

Betty fixed herself a rum and coke to calm her nerves and put her TV table up next to her throne with a bag of chips and a jar of dip within arm's reach. She threw two packs of hot dogs on grill number one, and several burgers on the other one. Betty knew her way around a grill better than most men she knew, and could multitask with the best of them, smoking a cigarette as she flipped burgers and cooked hot dogs.

"That's everything I think, Big Mama." Mitch said as he brought out the last of the food.

"Thank you, sugar..." Betty replied.

"So, tell me... How's my Big Mama been... I haven't seen you in a while..."

Mitch got behind Betty and massaged her plump shoulders, nuzzling his beard against her cheek. With his John Deer baseball cap, rippling abs, jeans, and "USA" tank top, Mitch was like a redneck supermodel. The two had met back when Big Betty's had first opened up and Betty was a few hundred pounds lighter. Betty hired Mitch as a line cook, and the two quickly became friendly with one another, and soon enough, Betty became Mitch's sugar mama, paying him for his companionship and plenty of sex. Of all the sugar babies Betty had fostered over the years, Mitch was her favorite, and they grew very close as time went on. Mitch even lived with Betty for six months after his apartment complex burned down and he needed time to get back on his feet.

"I've been good, sugar..." Betty said unconvincingly.

"C'mon, Betty, I know you better than that. Something's bothering you, honey, what is it? You need a good dicking? Huh?" Mitch said, tickling Betty's double chin, which never failed to make her giggle.

"Hahaha! Mitch! C'mon! I'm fine, really..."

"You sure? I know how Big Mama gets when she doesn't get her some dick every now and again..."

"Oh, sugar... Dick is the least of my worries right now..."

"Tell me what's wrong! C'mon..."

"I'm just... I'm getting so big..."

"Hm?"

"Look at me, Mitch! I'm... I'm fucking enormous!"

"Well, I mean... Yeah... You're Big Betty... It's kinda part of your image at this point."

"I know, sugar, but..."

"But what?"

"Can I tell you something? It'll just stay between us?"

"Of course, Betty."

"The other night... I had Lorenzo over. He's... He's like my new you, I guess. And it had been a while since I'd been... Intimate with anybody. I've just been so busy running the restaurant, and everything's been happening so fast..."

"Uh-huh..."

"And... We tried to have sex... But... My belly's gotten so big, that... Oh, sugar..."

"Hey, shhhhh... C'mon..."

Mitch hugged Betty, who had begun to tear up.

"Look, if you want, I can get you started on a weight loss plan..." Mitch began...