Chapter 5

My plan had been to sneak into the house and rush upstairs as quietly as possible. I didn’t want any prying eyes noticing my burst button before I changed into something loungier. Oh well.

I managed to get through the day with only the clasp on my pants, holding my bag in front of me as I said good night to my coworkers. First stop was the supermarket to get cream, but that turned into a small shop. More cream (they were low on half-and-half), *ice* cream, cookies (they’re so good), lasagna noodles and ricotta and other fixings (I had a serious craving for lasagna suddenly), a Whatchamacallit for the ride home. As I balanced the two bags and reached for the keys to my Honda, the hook popped.

Well, it bent, really – but it was all the same to me. Pop went the tummy, down went the zipper, and it was only by the grace of my hips and ass that my pants stayed up. Never in my life had I been so thankful for having a fat ass. Anyone looking closely would have seen the little triangle of my pink underpants saying ‘hi’, but it was getting dark, and my secret was safe.

Again, I did the little juggling act at the door to my condo with arms full of groceries, wondering how I would sneak upstairs, exactly. Just drop the food on the floor? Try to be sneaky about putting the ice cream away? Just try to keep something in front of me until I was in my room?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Lis was standing right there as I used my hip to close the front door. Two steps and a turn to the left, standing in front of the open refrigerator door, a bottle of Corona in each hand. She was wearing a long tan t-shirt that – even with her dummy curves – still hung below whatever she was wearing under it, basically a short dress. She completed the look with thick cabled socks that came up over her knees, not quite mid-thigh.

“There you are!” She beamed at me. I stood still as a statue, holding the crinkling plastic grocery bags by my side. “We have a celebration! I was accepted to art school!”

It was already such an emotional day, but this put it over the top. Still holding my grocery bags, I held my arms out to hug Lis, and she held her beers out. We took a step towards each other and simultaneously realized that this particular hug needed better planning.

She cracked a curious grin. “I can see your undies you know.”

In the excitement I had almost forgotten. But now I blushed and put the groceries on the counter. I pulled my pants together a bit then gave up. “Yeah, wardrobe malfunction today at work.”

She put the beers down as well and lifted up her top. She was wearing unbuttoned jean shorts, ones that I had seen her in a ton over the summer and more recently, as well. I could tell that there was no way she was buttoning them now, with her soft belly spilling out, the legs tight on her thighs. “Hey we match. We must be sisters after all!”

I lunged forward and gave her a huge hug. “I am so, so proud of you Lis! I’m so excited!” We squeezed close and I felt her big, soft boobs squish against mine (*she said mine looked bigger than before, I wonder if other people notice*). I stood on my tiptoes and kissed her forehead. “So proud, you deserve this.” My hands slipped down, tracing her waist (*Such a thick middle, my goodness!*) .

Her icechip eyes sparkled cool, her lipsticked smile warmed me up. My heart fluttered. “I’m really, really excited. I haven’t decided if I’m going to start next semester or defer until next fall. Need to get my license first and figure out a car…”

“Well, yeah but we can figure that out. And I’ll be better about taking you out driving. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll be home on time, and we can go out. Promise.”

“Celebration!” she yelled and popped the tops on the beers. I put the groceries away and put water on to boil while she cut the limes and put out chips. One beer turned into two before I put the lasagna in the oven, and it was past our normal dinner time when we finally sat down at the table.

We each had a big slab of steaming lasagna (and a small side salad) on our plates. Lis was drinking another beer; I had a glass of milk. I didn’t want to have a hangover in the morning. We talked about her plans for school, how she had to talk to Dad about what he was going to pay, applying for loans if he wouldn’t.

With about half of her lasagna left, she poured creamy Italian dressing on her salad, but then continued to pour it over the lasagna. *Gosh that’s fattening*, I thought, without realizing I had grabbed the bottle and was doing the very same thing. I pushed down the waistband of the pajama shorts I had changed into.

***

“What kind of ice cream did you get?”

I turned away from the sink where I was cleaning up the last of the pots and pans. Lis was snacking on a carrot chip left over from the salad. She looked a little buzzed, but I’d seen her drink 3 or 4 beers regularly without getting drunk. Especially with a big meal. *Especially lately*, taking secret peeks at her soft chin and plump upper arm.

I turned off the water and dried my hands with a towel. “Just vanilla, did you want some?”

She frowned a little. “Maybe, I was in the mood for something chocolatey, though.”

I felt a little guilty about my lunchtime treat. I might need to bring one home to share some day. “Well, sit on the couch and put something on, I’ll bring you something chocolatey.”

“Noice,” she said with a grin, pulling up her long t shirt and loosely tying it mid-waist. Right over that dinner baby. Her tiny jean shorts couldn’t be spread any wider, forced open by— well, my lasagna, I suppose. Her belly button looked dark and deep and impossibly soft. I wanted to poke it, touch it, feel the softness, but she walked to the couch.

From the low cabinet next to the sink, I pulled out vodka and Kahlua. Two glasses. Cream. Chocolate syrup. Finally big scoops of vanilla ice cream. A spoon and a straw in each.

“White Russian floats!” I sat down on the couch next to her, our thighs touching.

We sipped and scooped and half-watched a Lifetime movie about a social media influencer who discovers the true meaning of Christmas. Lis laid her head on my shoulder. I snuck my arm behind her back and put my hand on her waist. My heart was beating as I squeezed a buttery soft roll between finger and thumb, and quietly said, “Lis you look really cute. I like your squishiness right here.”

“Aww…” her speech was slow and fuzzy as she pulled in close and put her lips on my cheek. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a gentle press. She put her glass down and snuggled in close to me. “I like being squishy with you.” She put a hand under my top and started feeling my belly. I was so stuffed from such a greedy day that I couldn’t even suck in. But I didn’t actually want to? I just relaxed, letting her run her hands over my tummy, poke inside my belly button, squeeze and play.

I reached up with my left hand to run my fingers through her hair but caught a peek at my Apple watch as it flashed on. It was almost 10. We had been eating and drinking and then lounging on the couch for three hours. “Oh shit, I should get ready for bed.”

“Aww…you don’t want another drink?” She hugged me tighter.

I slowly untangled myself from Lis and stood up. “I can’t— I’m buzzed enough, and I hate going to work with a hangover. Besides, I think you should chill out for now or you might regret it.”

Lis lounged back on the couch. “I don’t get hangovers.”

I bent over and patted her belly. Somehow, I hit it just right and got the most satisfying smack that seemed to echo throughout the room. “You’ve got something to soak it up here. But trust me, one day you’ll come crawling to me saying, *‘Oh Claire, you were right, hangovers fucking suck!’*”

Lis pushed herself up and we stood belly to belly. She put her fingertips on my waist. “I don’t want to diet. Ok?”

“What?”

“Yesterday you said you’d diet with me if I wanted to diet. I don’t want to diet. Just in case you were wondering.” She suddenly looked and sounded very sober.

“Ok? I wasn’t like— I think you look beautiful. You don’t have to diet.”

“Ok, just so you know. I love you.” She pulled me in for a hug. “You don’t have to diet either. Your ass looks hot.”

She said it so plainly that it almost made me laugh, but her hands slipped down over my thin sleep shorts. I had bought them over the summer as something lightweight and comfy, but I’ve grown since then. They were tight on me, hugging my hips hard, and small enough that the bottom of my ass would show unless I adjusted them often. That was the part of my booty she went straight for, cupping and gently squeezing my bare skin. Like, if there was a map of the flabby parts of my body, there would be one of those stars with a circle around it right on the bottom of my butt cheeks.

“Well, uh, there’s going to be more of it if we keep eating like tonight,” I breathlessly stammered. I had meant it as a joke, but it didn’t feel very funny. I backed away, taking her hand. “Come on, you should go to bed too.”

We walked together upstairs, brushed our teeth side-by-side, and started going towards our bedrooms.

“I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow before you go to work,” Lis said quietly in the shadow of her doorway. I poked my head back out of my doorway.

“You don’t have to do that. You should sleep in.”

“You always do stuff for me. I’d like to.” She looked drowsy and hung on to the door frame.

“You don’t have to but if you’re up early then …sure. It would be nice. Remember that I’m taking you driving tomorrow though so you haveta be sharp.”

“Okay…” she drew out the syllable as she disappeared into her bedroom. I stopped and watched down the hall, looking for…something. I heard the rustle of her down filled duvet and then the creak of her plump body settling down hard. Everything was solemn for a second, just a little rustling, then quietly, “I love you.”

My eyes welled up with tears and I wanted to run in and hug her. Instead, with a hitch in my voice I squeaked back, “I love you too.”