The Collision

Chapter 1 – The Collision

Samantha Reed had never been a fan of mornings. And this morning was just like the rest, waking up to the shrill buzz of her alarm.

Her arm shot out from under the blanket, fumbling across the nightstand until her hand finally slapped the clock silent.

Around her queen-sized bed, empty boxes of pizzas were scattered across the carpet, casualties of last night’s dinner-for-one where Samantha Reed had lost control of herself – again.

There’d been a time, one that felt like a lifetime ago, when Samantha’s life had been very different. She’d been hot and popular in high school. But that popularity died in college, buried under the weight of her mindless gluttony. It started with the freshman fifteen, then snowballed into an eighty-pound gain.

And when she graduated, things didn’t improve.

She landed a job at a boring-ass company, one of those faceless firms where people sold things over the phone that no one really wanted. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills. Problem was, sitting at a desk eight hours a day gave her plenty of time to snack. So, over the last two years, fifty more pounds had quietly settled onto her frame.

At twenty-four years old, Samantha stood at five-foot-five and weighed two-hundred and fifty pounds. And she felt every ounce of it, especially as she heaved herself out of bed in the morning. Her belly spilled against her thighs, her boobs tugged heavily in her old bra, and her ass fought for space in the stretched-out panties she hadn’t bothered to replace for weeks.

“Sam…” A groggy voice mumbled from the other side of the bed.

Eric rolled over, face half-buried in a pillow. His hair stuck out in messy tufts, eyes still closed. He was shirtless, the blanket tangled around his waist. Unlike her, his body hadn’t changed much since college. He still had a slim build, a little soft in the middle, but it was nothing compared to her.

Samantha shifted around onto her hands and knees, the sheets wrinkling under her. Her bra dug into her shoulders as her boobs hung heavy, swaying with her movement. Her hair fell in messy strands around her face, but she ignored it.

Her belly pressed down toward the mattress, soft and heavy, folding against itself as she leaned closer. Her thighs spread wide for balance, pale and thick, dimples showing at the back where the flesh met. And her ass strained against the stretched cotton of her panties.

Eric’s eyes flicked down her body. He let out a low whistle. “Damn, Sam. You’re killing me, Sam”

She smirked, rolling her hips just enough to make her belly sway. “Yeah? You like this view?”

“Like it?” He propped himself up on one elbow, eyes wide. “I love it. Look at you.” His hand traced from her hip to her waist, across the slope of her stomach. “Everything about you is just absolutely glorious.”

A laugh bubbled out of her, low and warm. She leaned closer, pressing her boobs against his chest, feeling the squish of her belly between them. “Good thing,” she teased, “’cause I’m not planning on going on a diet anytime soon.”

Eric grinned, tugging her down for a kiss, then he brought one hand down hard against her ass and smacked it. The sound cracked through the room, and she gasped before laughing, the bounce of it making her belly jiggle.

“Eric!” she laughed, swatting his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

“Couldn’t help it.” He grabbed her hip with both hands, pulling her closer. “You’re driving me insane right now.”

They kissed again. He groaned, running a hand over her side, across the swell of her belly, then back down to her thigh. She loved the way he touched her, like he couldn’t get enough, like every inch was worth holding onto.

Samantha broke the kiss for a breath, lips still hovering close to his. “You like all this ass in your bed, huh?”

“Hell yeah,” he said without hesitation, giving her hip a squeeze. “Best part of my day.”

For a moment she thought about forgetting work completely, just giving in. But then she groaned, dropping her forehead to his. “Shit. I’m so late.”

Eric kissed her once more, quick and stubborn. “So be late.”

But the red numbers of the alarm clock caught her eye. Her stomach dropped. “Shit. Eric, I really have to go.”

He groaned, head falling back against the pillow. “Cruel. You’re cruel.”

Samantha climbed off, boobs, ass, and belly bouncing and swaying as she slid to her feet. he tugged her panties back into place, knowing damn well his eyes were glued to her the whole time.

“Stop staring,” she said, though her grin gave her away.

“Not a chance,” he said, still sprawled out, hands behind his head. “Best part of my morning.”

Samantha laughed, swaying her hips and turning her back to him. She gave him a cheeky grin over her shoulder, then started to twerk just a little, letting her ass jiggle in time with the movement.

Eric groaned, flopping back dramatically. “I repeat: your cruelness is unrivaled, madam.”

Samantha smirked, then she grabbed the pile of clothes off the dresser, muttering under her breatj. Black slacks, ome button-up she hadn’t ironed. Same old uniform. he hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, tugged them back into place again before sliding one leg, then the other, into her pants.

The fabric caught halfway up her thighs.

“Ugh, come on,” she grunted, hopping a little as the seams fought her. Her thighs rubbed together loud enough she heard it, skin squeaking as she yanked harder.

Eric’s voice came from the bed, lazy and amused. “Sounds like a workout over there.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, but she was laughing a little, breath puffing out as she finally wriggled the waistband over her ass. The fabric stretched tight across her belly, and she gave it a quick shimmy to settle it into place. The button pinched, but it held. “See? Perfect fit,” she said, smirking at him.

He smiled at her, nodding approvingly, his eyes practically glued to her.

Next up, Samantha grabbed the shirt. She shoved arms through, tugged it down over her boobs. Buttons stained as she worked her way up. By the time she got to the collar, her boobs were practically spilling against the fabric.

“Yeah, this is fine,” she muttered, checking herself in the mirror. She twisted, her belly shifting under the shirt, thighs pressing close together. Her hair was a mess, black strands sticking up at every angle. She dug around in her makeup bag, dragging eyeliner under her eyes with quick, practiced strokes. A little mascara, a smear of lip gloss. Nothing fancy, but enough to fake wide-awake. Then she briefly brushed her hair.

She leaned close to the mirror, blue eyes staring back at her. For a second, she just looked. The shirt was tight, pants even tighter, her boobs heavy under the thin fabric. She tilted her head, gave herself a crooked smile.

“Still got it,” she whispered.

Behind her, Eric groaned, dramatic as hell. “You’re seriously gonna walk out the door looking like that and leave me here alone?”

Samantha snorted, grabbing her bag off the floor. “Yep. Enjoy your nap, loser.”

She gave her hair one last flip, swung her ass just a little as she headed for the door. The fabric of her pants creaked with each step, and she knew damn well he was still watching.

“Cruel,” he called after her.

She just laughed, tossing him the middle finger without looking back.

***

The morning air smacked Samantha in the face the second she stepped outside, cool and way too bright. She tugged at the waistband of her pants again. Her bag was heavy on her shoulder, coffee in one hand.

She was halfway through a sip when she nearly collided with someone coming around the corner.

Hot coffee sloshed over her fingers.

“Shit!” Samantha yelped, jerking her hand back.

The other woman didn’t even flinch. No, she just stood there, cool as ice. She had long brown hair with these sharp blonde streaks running through it. Her cheekbones were knife-sharp. She was tall and slender. Tight jeans, cropped jacket, big sunglasses even though it was barely 8 a.m. Overall, she annoyingly looked like she had come out of some tv ad.

The woman’s eyes flicked down Samantha’s body, slow and deliberate. And then she smirked. “Wow. Guess I should’ve seen you coming. Hard to miss.”

Samantha blinked. “Excuse me?”

The woman’s smirk widened, one perfectly glossed lip quirking upward. “I said, hard to miss, I mean…” Her sunglasses slipped just low enough to reveal a pair of sharp green eyes as they flicked over Samantha’s body again. “You kinda… take up the whole sidewalk.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped. For a second, she thought she must’ve misheard. But the look on the woman’s face told her otherwise: sharp, smug, unapologetic.

Her cheeks burned hot.

”You serious right now?” Samantha snapped, “Did you really just say that out loud?”

The woman tilted her head, unbothered. “I mean, am I wrong?”

Samantha barked out a laugh, more disbelief than humor. amantha barked out a laugh, more disbelief than humor. “Oh my god. You’re one of those. Okay. Got it. I got no time dealing with your kind, skinny bitch.”

The woman gave a sharp little laugh and flicked her sunglasses back up. “Whatever. You’re not worth my time either. I got an important photo shoot anyway.”

“Good,” Samantha shot back, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Walk your bony ass right on out of my morning.”

Samantha spun halfway around, heat still buzzing in her chest. “Hey!” she called after her. “Tell those photographers good luck. Nust be hard trying to get a good shot of an ass that flat!”

The woman stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turned around, sunglasses glinting under the morning sun.

“What did you just say?” she asked, voice cool but dangerous. “Say it again, fat girl. I dare you.”

Samantha raised her brows, not backing down. “You heard me. Your. Ass. Is. Flat. As. A. Pancake.” She clapped her hands with each word.

That did it. The woman stormed back, heels clacking against the pavement like gunshots. Before Samantha could blink, they were nose to nose, hurling insults over each other. The next second, the woman shoved Samantha’s shoulder. Instinctively, Samantha shoved back, harder. A couple pedestrians gasped and stopped to watch.

They grappled clumsily, Samantha’s bag slipping off her shoulder, coffee cup hitting the pavement and splattering everywhere. The woman clawed for Samantha’s arm, and Samantha yanked her hair in retaliation.

They stumbled into the street.

A horn blared. Tires screeched.

Both women froze for a split second, wide-eyed in the glare of an oncoming car.

The impact came before either of them could move.