Buffet Girl

Chapter 1

He saw her the moment he entered the restaurant. She wasn’t hard to miss.

She sat in the seat - or, more accurately, in the seats - closest to the buffet. The best seats in the house. Minimal distance from table to food; that was the key. It was obvious to everybody that that reason and that alone had been the basis of her choice. And who could blame her? If you had to shift that amount of blubber and lard every time you wanted to refill your plates, you’d probably sit as close as you could to the food too. And by the looks of her, she’d be needing a lot of refills.

When he first saw her, her table was already piled high with empty plates. This was a popular buffet, famous for its deliberate catering to larger customers, and accordingly the tables were large enough to hold a very respectable amount of food. Her table, however, was practically groaning under the weight of food and discarded dishes piled high upon it. In fact, except for the stack of used plates at the far end, it was difficult to tell that there was any dishes involved at all; she may as well have just piled mountains of food onto the table itself, so as not to waste any space. Maybe she had.

She ate ravenously. By the looks of things, she had already consumed enough food for a large family, and yet she ate as though this was her first meal in a month. He felt an instant attraction to her. There was something primal about how she ate, how she scooped up huge, heaping handfuls of food and shovelled them greedily into her eager mouth. It was more than desire, it was a need, a desperate, overwhelming urge to satiate an appetite that had long since grown far, far out of control. He felt his cock stiffen in his pants at the sight of her.

She was enormous, of course. A beautiful, overexaggerated pear shape, just the body type he liked. The chairs at this buffet were built for the larger members of society, but she needed two: one for each colossal butt cheek. Even so accommodated, her enormous ass bulged and flowed over the sides of the seats, spilling out in rolls and waves of loose flab that wobbled and jiggled with every motion of her aggressive, ferocious eating. Her thighs, each of them thicker than his own torso, strained at the seams of her sweatpants. They were forced apart by her belly, a mountain of billowing fat that erupted from beneath her laughably overtaxed t-shirt and hung almost to the ground in several great rolls. Her obesity had progressed to the point that her tits were difficult to tell apart from any of the other innumerable sacks of blubber hanging off her massively bloated form. They were barely contained within her t-shirt, her voluminous cleavage covered - as was most of her upper body, arms, and face - with crumbs, grease, sauce, spilled beer, and all manner of detritus which had somehow escaped her insatiable maw in her haste.

Her face was surprisingly slim, for someone of her vast bulk. Nobody could attain her size without some softening of the jaw, plumping of the cheeks, and development of an extra chin or two, of course, but on the whole from the neck up she looked like she could have been half her actual weight. Though of course that would still have made her dangerously obese. She had long dark hair drawn back in a ponytail, and eyes that seemed lost in ecstasy. As he approached, unable to tear his eyes away from her, she didn’t seem to slow her eating for a second. Handful after handful of food went in: fries, burger, fried chicken, pizza, mac and cheese, steak, chicken, fries. There didn’t seem to be any semblance of a structure or a pattern to her choice of food; it was simply whatever her greedily grasping hands happened upon next. Occasionally, she would pause in her constant bingeing, but only so that she could seize one of several enormous glasses of beer and drain it. Then, spluttering and puffing and slopping the last drops down her ruined t-shirt, she resumed her feast.

He could hear her, too, as he got closer. The constant slurping and grunting, almost pig-like, as she chewed and swallowed rapidly, making way for the next handful of greasy junk to be forced into her mouth. The panting and huffing between each mouthful that spoke of her struggle to breathe, both because of the sheer speed of her eating, and because of the enormous weight of her own body pressing against her lungs. The gurgles and groans of her poor, overtaxed belly, stuffed beyond capacity and yet still being forced to find room for yet more food. The stifled burps and moans of pleasure that occasionally escaped her lips.

As he finally stepped up to the table, she didn’t even seem to notice him, so focused was she on gorging herself beyond reason. He didn’t mind, didn’t interrupt, just stood and watched in awe as she devoured the rest of her meal. His cock strained at his pants, rock-hard at the sight of this behemoth of a woman in a state of total, gluttonous abandon. It was only once she had scraped the last of the plates clean and drained the last beer, letting out a tremendous belch, that she finally noticed his presence.

“You look like you could use another helping or two,” he said, as she looked up at him, eyes still lost in a gluttonous, hedonistic haze. “Perhaps I could fetch some more for you?”

She ran her eyes up and down his body, taking in his all-too-obvious eagerness to see her eat even more, his bulging erection clearly visible through his jeans. She smiled.

“Of course,” she said, and let out another burp. “But you’d best hurry. I don’t like to go hungry.”

He returned her smile, and hurried off to the buffet.