Chapter 6

”Oh, come on!” I said.

“What?” Tricia asked, laughing as she unwrapped her giant arms from around my neck, leaning back into the water and pushing softly away from me.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that!”

Her laughter did not abate, if anything, it increased. “Oh, Dave. I think I can.”

I watched, awestruck as she sort of floated in the pool in front of me. I say sort of floated because most of her was still submerged, but her face, the round crests of her breasts and two, soft peaks of her stomach, as well as a circle on each rotund thigh, breached the surface. For moments I could do nothing but admire this iceberg effect, knowing just how much more of Tricia there actually was, only partially obscured beneath the slightly rippling waters of the pool.

I stepped slowly forward, tracing runnels of water around her wonderful, soft skin with my fingers. Gently, I put one hand beneath her shoulder and the other beneath her massive bum, but I could not possibly get a grip around even one thigh, let alone both; she was simply too enormous. She caught my eye and her twinkling amusement was obvious.

“Am I not enough for you, Dave?”

I clutched her to me, or at least, the parts of her fat that my hands were currently sinking into. The water sloshed slightly between us as the side of her stomach slapped lightly into my chest.

“Of course you are,” I answered, hoarsely.

“Then surely, you don’t need to know,” she said.

It was my turn to grin as I tensed my biceps and lifted her out of the water. Except that I didn’t. At all. The only result of my efforts was that Tricia floated forward as my straining arms once again sunk into the flesh of her back and thigh.

“Need has nothing to do with it,” I responded.

Tricia laughed again. “That’s good, Dave,” she said, draping one arm around my shoulders, gleaning what it was I was attempting to do. “If you knew how much I weighed, then you would have given this up long ago, by the way.”

I gritted my teeth and leant back slightly so that more of her huge form now hovered above my chest and abdomen. I tensed my arms again, but rather than lifting, I tried taking one step toward the shallow end. My arms sagged immediately with the increased load. I took another step and my grip slipped, overwhelmed by the strain, and once again, the iceberg that was Tricia floated away from me, laughing.

She stopped her momentum, standing up again. Her heavy breasts and half of her stomach were once again above water level. I watched as she gathered stray stands of her long, brown hair together, admiring the way her bulging upper arms swayed with the motion.

A bell sounded and my head whipped immediately to the door.

“Our time cannot be up yet, surely?” I said. “I booked us in for two hours.”

“That will be the room service I ordered,” Tricia responded, smiling as she tweaked her bikini top, carefully resettling her oversized breasts within the taut, wet fabric.

“Room service?” I asked, my mind working slowly.

The bell sounded again.

“Won’t you get the door, Dave?” Tricia requested, flashing me her winning smile. “Not everyone can handle me in a two-piece.”

I grinned, swimming past her in two strokes and pushing my legs through the water as quickly as possible.

“Dave,” Tricia hissed, making me pause. “Put my gown on, you might want to hide yourself.”

I glanced down, grinning. She wasn’t wrong. I padded over to where her enormous bathrobe lay abandoned on the tiles. It took me a few moments to work it out, there was simply so much towelled fabric all over the place. The bell rang again, followed by two sharp raps on the door. In the end I gave up, draping the surprisingly heavy sheet of gown over me, concealing my excitement, and opened the door.

“Room service for Patricia Harrison,” the porter said, eyeing my attire strangely.

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the handle of the hostess trolley and rolling it inside.

I was only vaguely aware of how the dressing gown fell away from my shoulders, but I was sure that the man saw my erection before the door managed to swing shut. Turning back to Tricia, I didn’t care. She had taken a number of steps toward the shallow end, and her entire stomach was once again revealed, glistening beads of water trickled down its entire expanse. I wondered vaguely if I would ever get used to such a sight, part of me didn’t think it possible.

“I hope they remembered the cream,” she said.

I saw that her eyes were fixed on the trolley and I glanced down to see a wealth of styrofoam boxes piled up on both levels of the metal frame. I turned back just in time to see Tricia taking the last few steps out of the pool, marvelling, once again, at how her implausible thighs pushed into her incredible, bulging stomach, forcing it to sway in all its massive glory to first one side, and then the other as creases of fat folded and unfolded over the sides of her hips.

“What on earth have you ordered?” I asked, unable to keep the incredulity from my tone as I gestured to the stacks of boxes.

Tricia smiled, swinging her shin through the water with obvious effort, using her arms and therefore heaving bosom to engender momentum.

“Room service,” she responded, licking her lips.

An idea struck me, and I wheeled the trolley away toward the deep end.

“What are you doing, honey?” Tricia asked, the faintest note of alarm in her tone.

“Don’t worry,” I answered, parking the food and padding lightly back to the shallow end to take Tricia by the confused hand, even as I leaned into her bulk to kiss her. I pushed her as I kissed her, gently but firmly, so that she was forced to take a step back into the water. And then another.

“What are you doing?” She repeated, gasping, partially due to the exertion of leaving the pool, and partially due to arousal, I hoped.

“Trust me,” I answered, kissing her on the lips again as I encircled some part of her waist with one arm, forcing her yet further back into the pool.

Before long we were deep enough that we could swim, and I instructed her to make her way to the edge of the deep end.

“And then I’ll get the food, right, Dave?” She questioned me, hesitating.

“Of course, Tricia,” I said, smiling and stroking her round face.

She turned slowly in the water and I saw her push off as her fleshy shoulders slipped beneath the surface. Tricia’s rotund legs kicked out once like a frog and her bottom rippled in answer. I dove quietly into the water, immediately opening my eyes, not caring that they would itch, and was rewarded with the sight of her gigantic gut flowing and billowing down and out as her fat, soft legs kicked out behind her once again. I overtook her, still submerged, and turned to see her spreading her arms in a perfect breast stroke; perfect, because of the way her bosom was initially squeezed together by the motion.

I reached the wall first and hoisted myself out of the water easily, clambering over the tiled side. Tricia, of course, could not follow suit, but worked her breasts and elbows onto the pool’s edge so that she did not have to expend energy staying afloat.

“I’m hungry, Dave,” she said, pouting slightly, her eyes fully fixed on the trolley.

“Really?” I picked up one of the plastic boxes at random and removed the elastic band holding it closed. “I thought you’d used the last two hours to get lunch?”

Tricia licked her lips as the smell of chicken nuggets spilled from the now opened box. “I did,” she answered.

“Then why did you order room service here as well?”

She shrugged her round, soft shoulders, her eyes firmly fixed on the box in my hand. “I knew I’d get hungry again.”

I took one chicken nugget out and moved it slowly up to my own mouth. Tricia whimpered slightly, an almost perfect echo to the noise I’d made earlier when she’d revealed herself.

“Is it a matter of need?” I asked, “or just want?”

“Need,” she immediately replied, licking her lips again.

I moved the piece of chicken away from my mouth and came closer to crouch down next to Tricia. She took the nugget from my hand, her green eyes briefly closing in satisfaction as her teeth tore into the battered chicken. Within seconds she was ready for the next piece, and I obliged. And the third. And then the fourth. Sixteen pieces later and the box was empty.

“Get another box, hon,” she instructed, breathily.

I complied. This one contained deep fried shrimp I discovered upon opening it.

“Need?” I asked again.

Tricia nodded, her eyes glowing. I fed her the shrimp in exactly the same way as the nuggets, savouring the sight of each one disappearing down through her full lips, watching as her fat cheeks wobbled and rippled cutely as she chewed before swallowing; just another morsel contributing to the vastness of Tricia.

“Next box,” Tricia commanded, panting, when the last of the shrimp had been devoured.

I retrieved another filled with chips.

“Needs?” I asked.

“Yes!” Tricia responded.

“Then perhaps we can make a deal,” I suggested, smiling at her.

“A deal?”

I grinned, holding the open box just inches from her face, both of us knowing there was no way she could reach it unless I allowed it. Just the thought of Tricia being able to climb out of the deep end was laughable. “My ‘need,’ for yours.”

Tricia scowled. “Come on, Dave, this is different!”

“Is it?” I answered, feeling fully as though I had the upper hand. “How?”

“You can’t starve me just to get what you want!”

I laughed. “Starve you?”

But Tricia’s good mood had dissipated. “Yes, Dave. I’m hungry and this is not fair!”

“I hardly think I’m starving you,” I said, though my confidence was beginning to ebb.

Tricia’s scowl was far from playful. “Look at me, Dave. Has any part of our interaction so far implied to you that I do not take eating seriously?”

My mind reeled. “Erm, you didn’t finish those bowls of crisps the other night?”

Tricia barked a laugh. “But you have no idea how much room service I ordered to make up for it afterward.”

My eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Tricia’s green eyes were on fire. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she was breathing heavily.

“OK,” I said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

To my surprise, Tricia pushed away from the side of the pool and I watched her bulk pivot in the water, admiring the way her gigantic gut sloughed to one side, sending a small wave cascading toward the side of the pool. Her wonderfully wide bottom, straining the light blue bikini bottoms wobbled heavily as she kicked, propelling herself in the direction of the shallow end.

It did not take long before Tricia emerged from the pool, and she walked around the rim, my eyes unable to leave her huge, bloated form.

“Come,” she gestured, “and don’t even think about forgetting the trolley.”

I didn’t dare to disobey. As I wheeled the room service around to her, Tricia bent down to push the sun loungers together before very carefully lowering her bulk onto them, one buttock per lounger. Even sharing her weight, the chairs creaked and groaned audibly, but I was transfixed by the way her bulging stomach poured into her thick lap, her quivering belly button coming to rest just a matter of inches above her round knees.

“Now,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “You will feed me.”

I didn’t hesitate, and nor did she. The chips disappeared, as did a second box of chicken nuggets, followed by box after box of deep-fried snacks. I had never imagined it would be possible for a person to devour so much, but then, I’d never encountered anyone like Tricia before. Even compared to the webcam models I usually watched, this enormous woman seemed absolutely insatiable.

“Massage my belly,” Tricia commanded when she’d finished the eighth box; turkey twizzlers.

My hands immediately leapt to her heaving stomach and she laughed, her mood having clearly improved.

“But don’t stop feeding me,” she admonished.

And so we continued. I used one hand to feed her while the other was buried in the expanse of her massive belly, kneading, teasing and hefting the immeasurable flesh I found. Sometimes she needed a break, but only so she could drink of one of the three bucket-sized milkshakes she had ordered. At such times, I switched to a two handed system, running my hands out from the centre of her stomach before pushing into it gently or slipping my fingers beneath it, sliding my hands deeply between where it so heavily rested atop her equally soft, colossal thighs.

“What’s next?” She asked, slurping the last few drops of the second milkshake.

“I think it’s only desserts, now,” I answered, temporarily extricating my arms from her to check the remaining boxes.

“Did they remember the cream?”

“They did,” I replied, grinning at the relief in her face.

“Would you pass it to me?”

“You don’t want it on top of this brownie?” I asked, confused.

“Not yet, Dave. Just pass it to me.”

I did as asked. Tricia deftly popped the top of the can of whipped cream with one hand, letting the plastic lid fall to the tiled floor. She shook it quickly, making basically every single part of her jiggle enticingly. She squirted a decent amount into her mouth and swallowed, before grinning up at me, a twinkle once again in her green eyes.

“This one I ordered for you, Dave.”

I did not understand her at first, but then she turned the can upside down and pressed the button, drawing a trail of cream all over her swollen bosom and down the sides of as much of her stomach as she could reach.

“So, Dave,” she said, squirting yet again into her own mouth once she was done. “The question now, then, is how hungry are you?”

Without thinking I moved toward her and she leaned back slightly to expose the full enormity of her engorged, cream covered belly and breasts. Beneath her, the sun loungers creaked and gave up with twin snapping sounds.

“Tricia!” I shouted.

“Oh, so you don’t want your treat?”

“What? I mean, of course, but are you OK?” I asked.

“Oh, Dave,” Tricia said, shifting her bulk slightly atop the flattened plastic beds. “You think that’s the first time I’ve broken furniture?”