“Over and done with you totally”?

“Love: yer doin’ it wrong” Nate told himself out loud at home, several weeks after parting ways with Larissa, still in a world o’ heartache over it. At least he’d been subletting and hadn’t given up his lame yet inexpensive apartment, though it had come dangerously close to that.

As before, he redirected his energies into work and hobbies to deal with his romantic pain, including finding a new zero-day exploit in a popular commercial web-based service.

The love he shared with Larissa had been deep—deeper than any other he’d experienced. Reasonably enough it was taking longer to clear out.

Only about 3 weeks after their separation—far too short a time for him to heal—he received and answered a phone call he wished he had not.

“Hello.” He didn’t even feel like greeting Deb by name, despite seeing her name come up on the caller ID.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“I hear that Lardissa moved to Chicago.”

“Rudeness does not buy you points.”

“I’ve heard that’s what you call her.”

“That’s my pet name for her. Unless you two are now lovers, doesn’t work the same when you say it.”

This wasn’t going the way she wanted. She needed to back off and stay friendly. “It’s been… awhile. Thought you might want to, uh… get together.”

“Nope.”

“I can’t believe how big I am now–”

“–Nope” he cut her off.

“Really? Just like that—‘nope’. No hesitation?”

“Nope. None. G’bye, Deb–”

“–Wait” she interrupted. “That sounds rather permanent.”

“It is. We’re done, as I have tried to get across to you several times now. Go find someone else to play abusive games with.”

She wasn’t sure whether “abusive games” or “We’re done” stung harder. It had been an awfully long time since anyone successfully got a zinger through her virtually impenetrable emotional fortress. “Ummm… why?”

“I am a person, not a boomerang, Debra—not that you know the difference.” His voice was even more unnervingly calm and matter-of-fact than usual. No hint of any emotional turmoil within… and there wasn’t, unlike the silent, violent storm inside her. “You can’t keep vigorously throwing me away and expect me to keep circling back. You seemed worth it for awhile, but I’ve finally realized that you were correct: there really isn’t any room in your life for anybody else—and I don’t mean physically. Having lived with Larissa for over a year, I now know much better what I want, and it ain’t you—your behavior. Everyone knows it won’t take you more than a day ‘out there’ amongst the normies or 5 minutes at the next dance to own your next victim–uh, play toy–uh, lover. So you go have a nice life, and so will I… with someone else. Over and out.”

Click.

Just like that, it was over. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy actually dumped her—many tried, but almost all came crawling back. She wasn’t even sure if a guy had ever successfully dumped her. This was different than all those past attempted dumps, where she’d feel a blip of hurt but at the same time know in the wisdom of her core that the guy didn’t mean it and would be back… and he didn’t and he was. Not this time. Her core knew beyond any doubt that Nate would not come crawling or walking or marching or in any other way back.

She sat in stunned silence for easily half an hour, immobilized by painful feelings coursing through her which she hadn’t felt for decades. No one could penetrate her well-developed armor like Nate. She wished she knew why.

Well over a year since he last attended a Get-Together, Nate Scarborough found himself heading back over to the club, tonight as he often did on the way in, on public transit (to stay fresh).

It was another night of unusual moods. Deb for some reason had expended a lot of energy at work convincing Nora to go this night. Nora still hated the binding rules of her suddenly-authoritarian mother, yet after a year plus of living that way, had grown accustomed to the boundaries. She didn’t really feel like dealing with Nate or other lovers of her past, yet after a year she figured there’d be enough fresh meat that she could move on.

The two co-workers/loose friends hadn’t been getting along well, each of them in a bad mood for their own reasons.

Nora spotted Nate in the entranceway. “Better stop undressing Bobo over there with your eyes. Hubby’s home.”

That was it. Deb hurled the remaining 3/4 of her large swirl donut straight at Nora’s face with all her strength. Nora barely dodged the flying projectile in time. It headed directly for the tonearm of the live turntable on BBW D.J. Dora The Musical Explora’s rig.

Dora lunged and successfully blocked the shot and averted disaster, the pastry hitting her hard, right above her prodigious breasts at the starting point of her cleavage. The 1/3 of her which was fiery Latina and the 1/2 of the African-American 1/3 of her which hailed from ancestors who were at the center of the more violent side of the 1960s civil rights movement wanted to blast over and shove the rest of the donut straight down Deb’s thick throat. Fortunately, the 1/2 of the African-American 1/3 of her which hailed from ancestors who were at the center of Martin Luther King Jr.’s peaceful civil rights movement plus the peaceful Pennsylvania Quaker 1/3 of her held her in check. She settled on giving Deb a searing, angry stare that could cut steel, along with a raised index finger of warning. The donut wound up in the trash.

Despite his best efforts not to fall into the self-made trap, Nate couldn’t help making the self-flagellating choice of comparing the women present to Larissa. More than a few times he’d considered making a greater effort to find work in or near Chicago and getting back with her, but other than not having her in his life, he knew he was happier with his friends and co-workers and life in general where he was.

There were a number of excellent, fine women present—each more than worthy in their own way—yet he didn’t feel moved by any of them. The only thing he felt besides the pain of missing Larissa was a sharper, more sudden pain when he and Deb made eye contact. She looked fabulous… or more precisely, flabulous. Unlike Larissa in their time together or even the feeding adventure with Diane, Deb hadn’t gained a massive amount, yet it was still enough to be obvious to his semi-trained eyes. Her somewhat bigger belly and buns were truly hypnotic, though as usual most of the new fat went to her breasts, now safely ensconced in the echelon of big-breast BBW models. He knew she could model in a heartbeat, if her personality and desires allowed her to do so.

He danced with new-to-him guests Irene and Robin in turn, mostly to avoid Deb. The dances were OK, but each party of the dance partnership felt no magic and moved on.

“Where are you going?” Deb asked Nora, seeing her suddenly bolt out of the bunker.

“Need some hubby time.”

The sad smiles she and Nate shared spoke volumes as she approached him with open arms and he immediately opened his for the imminent dancing engagement.

“How’s it going, for real?” he asked.

“Sucks. I’m used to it now, so most days I’m OK with it, but events like this open up old wounds.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t been coming to these, but Dub-boobs pushed and pushed and pushed, only to be a bee-yotch once we got here. You’re both a bittersweet memory and an in-the-present healing force. A little closer and tighter, please.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve shrunk down to nothing.”

“I keep myself right at 250 pounds. And ‘brilliant’ me finally figured out that shifting some of that from muscle to fat gives me more jiggle at the same weight, so I can meet Mom’s spec and nasty sister’s clearance with a bit more softness and spread.”

“Smart as always.”

“I wish.”

The conversation moved on to things each of them had been doing, keeping them going through another song.

“Thanks for this” she briefly hugged him tightly at the second song’s end.

“Thank you!”

Nora decided to make a play on a slightly shy new guy—not her usual move—leaving Nate again available.

He smelled Deb’s signature scent coming up from behind, a few seconds before she quite intentionally gently pressed into him from there.

“No” he said before she’d made a sound.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“That was over a year ago!”

He whirled around to face her, “And why do I have any reason to believe that anything has changed?!”

She could tell he was faltering by his body language, especially that of his crotch. She had the power. She played her position by gently wrapping her arms around him and pulling him gently and slowly into a dance hold, which of necessity required that her belly and breasts squish into him—and not just slightly. “Because I’m a year and nearly a quarter older and softer. Gave up fighting quite so hard… gained another 40 pounds. As you can tell, it went to the usual places. If I try to keep my belly contained, I’m now in a 28W below. Up top, I’m sportin’ 40Ks.

He gave in and put his arms around her, so they could dance. “You’re always physically sexy, Deb—everyone knows that, including me and you. But that doesn’t mean you won’t do your feral cat thing and physically hurt me. That I have no reason to believe has changed.”

Even with his resolve weakened, Nate refused to go home with Deb. She made another strong play for him during pair-off time—unusual for her—to no avail. In fact, she squandered so much time on him that she again missed out on her other options, who all went with easier, friendlier sure thing wonderful women (and, in most cases, happy weekends together).

Nate and Deb each left the dance alone. He made a point of blasting out of the parking lot before she left the building.

There were only so many ways for him to walk home. She knew this, and had little trouble driving the various possible routes and catching up to him.

Had there been any way for him to hop right on a bus without waiting outside to get home, he would have done so. Knowing the schedule as he did, he knew that he’d be exposed to Deb at any bus stop on the way home, and for far longer than he could risk. He cursed under his breath as he heard her Dart approach and slow down near him.

“C’mon Nate” she gently pleaded through her rolled down window, driving at his walking speed along a quiet residential street as he tried to ignore her.

“I am not going home with you. And my place is not an option.”

“Just get in, please. We’ll find another place.”

“If you wanna do it in your car, that’s as far as I’m going. ’Cept no, ’cause you’ll hurl me out at high speed!”

“You won’t be pushed out/leave unless the car is parked with the engine off.”

She could see him faltering.

“Come on,” she urged him softly, “we both need it.”

Against his better judgement, he swerved towards her car. She stopped, put it in Park, and did her usual big cleavage-revealing lean to open the passenger door.

She drove them to Chandler park, not terribly far away and close to his house, in case things went badly and he walked home instead of her driving him there as she intended.

The park was nearly empty, so even with some bleed from the ball field lighting filling the car’s interior with fairly bright light, neither of them minded.

“Ooohhhhh!—That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout!” she moaned as he groped her. It felt good enough that it took her a few minutes to start groping him.

Passions ran high as the fresh sensations of the moment released floods of earlier tactile etc. memories from over a year prior. Neither could admit how much they missed the other: it wasn’t their way—either of them.

Clothes came off, sexing ensued.

“Ohhh yeah! Now isn’t this worth it?” she asked as she rode him as he gloriously manhandled her breasts.

“Ahhh Deb! Ohhh!” he panted. “This part is! But not the hurtful parts.”

“Don’t talk of that, please” she spat out between gasps and pants. “That’s the past; this is now.”

It was slightly cramped but not actually too bad at all making love in her old Dodge Dart with its bench seat.

He couldn’t resist asking, “Ya like the added fatness? (huff, puff)”

“(huff) Getting used to it (puff). A little seems inevitable. Ya think?”

“You just get better and better, the fatter you get!”

She felt him harden as he said this. It didn’t help, as it further mixed up the feelings she held inside regarding her gain. Like so many others before her, she couldn’t deny the feelings of empowerment, essentially raising her middle finger at the thinspo world to not merely be fat, but get fatter. After that, it got confusing: so often living in her fatter body felt better, but sometimes worse, especially when long walks and standing a long time was involved (given that she’d never been one to exercise much, outside of sex, especially in recent years). Clothing had long been a problem for the top half of her body, and now was getting ridiculous, with the lower half starting to become challenging (at least in mainstream stores).

Once she got her mind back in the moment, it was all good: he remained harder and bigger than ever inside her, and everything about their bodies sexing and being intimate together felt better to her. His extended licking, suckling, and fondling of her breasts over their new, larger area erased weeks if not months of minor, transitory back pain.

So wrapped up was she coming to terms with things and remaining in the moment that she hadn’t noticed his excellent efforts at holding off from letting go during her slower-than-usual arousal phase. Again, once she was back in the moment, she let go enough to elevate up to very excited. Surprisingly, what set her off into several strong orgasms was Nate suddenly kissing her passionately, in a way she considered lusty and he couldn’t consider in any way, lost to his passions in the moment as he was.

It surprised him when, after coming up for air, she pulled him back down for more mouth-to-mouth kisses! In the process, setting him off.

“What’re you doing?” she asked in her more gentle, dazed tone, once he fell flaccid and withdrew.

“Attempting to put my clothes back on, so I can get out and let you get on with your life, as you usually prefer.”

“No-oh” she said in more of a whine than her usual throaty, empowered commanding tone, gently pulling him back onto her.

“What’s this?” he asked, truly confused.

“Naked cuddles, here in the car in the park, ’cause we’re badass like that” her normal tone of voice back.

“So cuddles are OK if they’re in a context where we’re being badass, but not in conventional situations?”

“Something like that” she demurred, nibbling his ear gently.

“How long?”

“Depends. Ten minutes if you get out here afterward; half an hour or until you want to stop in less time than that if I drive you all the way home—yours.”

He had trouble relaxing the whole time, vividly recalling how things not once had ended well between himself and Deb.

“Why so tense?”

“Can’t help it… struggling to protect myself from what inevitably happens.”

She felt more hurt than angry. As if to make a point, she held him gently, almost tenderly, and spoke softly. “People can change, you know. Maybe I’m getting gentler as I get softer.”

A tear escaped his eye. “That would be more beautiful than I could imagine.” Even still, she’d passed along enough of her life hurt to him that of necessity he remained wary and on-guard.

When it was time to get dressed, she patiently let him put her bra on, ostensibly as a gift to him, though actually at least as much to prolong having his hands on and around her mams and nearby. His mind momentarily reeled seeing the bra tag, reminding him of what she’d said: he’d just made love with her and her 40K breasts—something only a relatively small percentage of people got to do with anyone, ever.

Deb tried to keep things friendly and calm during the short drive to his house, doing her best to ignore his obvious fight-or-flight response.

“Here it is, on the left.”

“Which one is yours?”

“The rear unit. But the landlord gets funny about cars which aren’t his in the driveway, so please just let me off here.”

She parked the car and shut off the engine instead of pulling to a stop in the street.

It surprised him that she unbuckled and opened her driver’s side door, especially before he’d even started to get out. “What’s going on?”

“Walking you to your door.”

“How chivalrous, sir!”

“Don’t you want your neighbors to see how well you’ve done for yourself in the dating realm?”

“If dating was what we were actually doing instead of NSA sex, yeah maybe” he muttered as he got out of the car.

“Aren’t you at least going to show me your apartment?” she called out from the driver’s seat, back in her more frustrated, confrontive tone.

“Too much risk that you’d remain inside and things would go badly wrong.” He closed the door and waved goodbye through the rolled-up window.

She got out and yelled over the car’s roof line, “What the fuck, Nate?!”

“What?!”

“No goodbye kiss?! Do you treat all your lovers this way?!”

“Nope, only you. You’re the only one who hurts me physically right afterward!”

Her well-developed emotional hurt defenses kicked in. “Fuck you, Nate!”

“Yeah, it was good. Thanks and bye!” he smirked as he turned and headed towards his apartment.

She jumped back in her Dart and drove off in a huff, considering the ending a failure.

Nate considered it a smashing success: it was the first time ever he hadn’t been forcibly ejected nor physically hurt. Even so, part of him wished he’d felt comfortable inviting her in and showing her around, despite knowing that such a thing was easy with many other women, but not Deb Dunbar.