Abrasive

“Yeah?” he answered his phone, one evening a few weeks after his and Deb’s in-car loving adventure.

“What?” Deb asked straight out. “Am I out of your contacts list?”

“No. So what’s so urgent that a text wouldn’t work?”

“I find I have better luck with hook-ups when the guy can hear my voice.”

“Imagine what you could do if you were civil and non-violent.”

“Old news: I didn’t physically hurt you last time, and tried not to hurt you at all!”

“Yes, and you did well.”

“So… seeing anyone?”

“Lots of pictures.”

“Why? You’re far beyond that. Why weren’t you at the last Get-Together?”

“I was, but out in the parking lot.”

“Seriously?! You’ve regressed all that way?!”

“More like wised up: scoping out who’s going in, to determine whether it’s worth my hard-earned money.”

“I gather you noticed that I’m again bigger.”

“Deb, you’re physical pulchritude has never been an issue, and yes, you keep getting better as you fatten.”

“You could’ve called or written if you didn’t want to spend ya dollahs on Get-Together.”

“Holding out for someone who looks like you, except ideally fatter, whom I can always trust to remain civil, and ideally nice.”

“Hold a grudge much?”

“Not a tiny fraction as long as you’ve held yours against whomever or whatever hurt you so badly.”

She hung up without another word. He felt happy and vindicated.

Three weeks later…

“What up, D?” he sighed, not happy to have taken her call after letting two earlier ones go to voicemail, where she’d left no messages.

“Hopefully you when you get your hands all over my plusher body. I don’t seem to be able to keep my mouth shut when there’s food around.”

He was glad this wasn’t a video chat, so she couldn’t see his flushing face. She certainly knew how to play his FA buttons when she made an effort!

“My boobs are ridiculous… each one’s gonna need its own Zip code soon!” She caught him sighing. {Progress!}

“Must be great, for those who don’t know you well yet.”

“No one but lonely ol’ me has had their hands on them.”

“What happened to variety?”

“We’re between Get-Togethers, as you might have noticed.”

“Since when has a small detail like that kept you from harvesting your pick of men who’re into big boobs?”

“Since my belly and butt challenged each other to see which of them could make me stick out and jiggle more.” She swore she heard a small gasp from him. “Not worth my time to give the good stuff I’ve got to any non-FA, when I’ve got so much goodness beyond my boobs.”

His ongoing breathing without words concerned her, especially since the arousal sighing and so on seemed to have receded to nothing. “You there?”

“Yeah, but not for long. Gotta get back to work.”

“At night?”

“Interesting project.”

“What about?”

“Out of bounds, as you so much like to say. In this case, ’cause it’s classified.”

“As good as sex?”

“Just about. Much less painful, too.”

“So… nothing? No sexytime for you and me?”

“Nope. Especially not with a consultant named Jennifer on the project, who can’t help overfilling bras and chairs, and never met a carbohydrate she didn’t like.”

Deb did her best to ignore the sensations of icy pin-pricks she felt throughout her body upon hearing of this new lust interest. “Bedded her yet?”

“Classified” he gloated.

“Alright… what-evs.”

“Hey… keep enjoying the expanding fat life and work on your issues, and maybe I can slot you in sometime in the distant future.”

“You shit!”

“Love you too! Bye.”

Nora took another long drag from her latest clove cig, seated on the broken-down couch in what passed for a break room at their work, next to (but not too close to) Deb. “Calling the same guy no less often than every two weeks to seduce him, then falling back to texts when the calls didn’t work strikes most of us as obsession. Taking it to email when even the texts didn’t work then actual IMs on platforms hardly anyone uses any longer when the emails failed pretty well nails it as obsession. But then again, he is your ex-husband—at least in your mind.”

“Don’t” Deb threatened, poking Nora in her nearest less-fat hip. “He’s an especially good lay, worth a little work.”

Stabbing jabs of memories of her good lays with Nate led Nora to take another deep drag. As she held it, she non-subtly elevator-eye scanned her work quasi-friend. Almost blinding Deb with the exhale, she suggested, “Maybe you’ve larded yourself up past his range of desirability.”

“A-heh! A-heh!” she legit coughed from the acrid sidestream blast, fanning it away furiously.

A flamingly dapper co-worker in lower-end management somehow allowed to wear a bright rose gold satin smoking jacket to work stepped into the room, immediately breaking into song,

Both curvaceous women glared at him. It was Deb who told him, “Can it, Roddy!”, fanning some fresh smoke courtesy of Nora his direction.

For someone of Deb’s intelligence, it took her surprisingly long to figure out that she needed something beyond changes to her body to successfully entice Nate Scarborough.

About 4 months after their in-car sexing, she finally broke through.

The flutter of emotions coursing through him compelled him to call.

“Hey Nate! Thanks for calling.”

“Sure thing. Are you quite sure you actually want to talk?”

“Yes.”

“Are you quite sure you want me to be the one with whom you share?”

“There ain’t no one else, buddy. I…. It’s hitting me hard. Have any time for me tomorrow night?”

“Uh, sure. Not tonight?”

“I’m hoping it’ll be for more than just the in-person chat and support I need, so I’d prefer having the option of your staying through ’til Saturday morning at least.”

“Yeah, OK. What time?”

“6-ish. Want a ride over?”

“No thanks. I haven’t been walking as much as I’d like.”

“Ohhh Kayyy.” She didn’t understand, but let it go to keep things pleasant to ensure he’d actually come over. “Looking forward to it.”

“Me too. Stay strong, as you always do. Bye for now.”

“Hey there” Deb smiled as she opened her front door. Seeing Nate’s slack-jawed gape was totally worth it. She wasn’t naked: she wore a Daisy Duke top, with some stretchy shorts which hadn’t fit in awhile. Her buns stuck out and flowed well over the top of the waistband, with her belly more above than below said waistband, and deliciously larger. Her breasts were huge jiggle-pots as usual, bigger than ever.

“Sorry I’m so distracted by your physical beauty” he apologized on his way in.

“Don’t be… I need the distraction” she replied as she closed and locked the front door.

“Are you comfortable in any of that?”

“No. Which is why I plan to take it off now. Unless you want to.”

“I feel like such a shit!”

She unfastened and tossed off her Daisy Duke top. “Why?”

“Because all I can think about is sexing you, when you asked me over for support.”

“Dude, haven’t you learned?: sexing is support, to me!” She pulled off her pants and underpants.

He was rock-hard well before the time he had his clothes off. They did a quick STI update, each surprised that the other hadn’t been with anyone since their last romp.

They were all over each other, including Deb-instigated kissing which Nate found both tender and lusty, and completely electrifying.

“Condom?” he asked.

“No, please. Given what’s happened, life’s too short for that, between trusted friends.”

{“Trusted friends”?! That’s an upgrade!} he thought to himself. “May this friend trust that he won’t be the father of your baby?”

“Mmmm yes” she moaned, listening to him yet in the moment more focused on how nice his small buns felt in her hands.

Lost in their individual lusty dazes, they guided each other into position for her to go down atop him.

“Oooaagghhh, Deb!” he moaned, suddenly freezing up. “You feel too good!”

She could feel he was too far gone to hold back. “Let it go, lover” she said, softly. “We’re good.”

He didn’t really have a choice: he was too aroused from her enhanced sexiness and his recent sexual deprivation. He came hard, unable to avoid grabbing her very tightly with both hands, triggering a squeak of surprised pleasure from her.

“Yes please! Grab me, grab me!”

There was so much of her to grab—and he assuredly did, over and over!

Between that and all she could feel of him via her hands and other parts of her expanded body, Deb rode wave after wave of tingly-high arousal pleasure with occasional orgasmic peaks.

The arousal gradually wound down for her, both of them very much wanting to remain coupled and doing so, caressing one another.

Eventually Deb broke the verbal silence, “Like the new me?”

“So much!… but scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of things ending badly, like they always do.”

“Let the past go” she spoke gently, smiling, caressing his hair, “like I’m trying to do. Things will be different this time—better different.”

“You OK with the same old me?”

“I… mis–…. I… really didn’t want so much time to pass since our last loving.”

He knew quite well what she almost said aloud—something he never expected to hear from her. Whatever happened must have shaken her up enough to at least partially fragment her denial of certain categories of common human feelings. He sensed that he might be on the edge of a breakthrough with her.

She eased up off him and they repositioned into a close, nude cuddle on her couch.

“Is it time to talk yet?” he asked.

“Not yet. I need more of… this.”

“This” included cuddling and nuzzling, but also sexy touchy-feely. She wasn’t stoned, drunk, nor in any other way biochemically altered, as far as he could tell, yet for the first time in his experience, she didn’t seem tense and wasn’t resisting sharing loving affection. By the time his mind processed these thoughts, his feelings informed him that he was a lot farther down the road of falling all the way hard for her than he’d ever intended upon getting.

Lust remained, making it easier for both of them. She couldn’t help smiling as she felt him up, nor softly sighing as he enjoyed more of that with her.

Nate grew a little nervous as the clock ticked past the half hour of cuddling mark.

Deb noticed. “There’s no timer tonight. It’s different now.”

“I’m dying to– Sorry!—I’m highly interested to learn what happened that changed things. When you’re ready.”

She needed another quarter hour before she was ready to speak. With his arm around her and uncharacteristically still cuddled into him, she commenced. “My grandfather—my father’s father—died this week.”

“Were you close?”

“No.”

“But it’s affecting you strongly?”

“Kinda. Anything which reminds me of Daddy tends to do that. And he was Daddy’s daddy, of course.”

“You have strong feelings related to your father?”

Deb suddenly tensed up, folding her arms tight against herself, as though protecting the family jewels. “Can’t… talk about that.”

“Sorry! I withdraw the question.”

He needed to keep holding her silently for another quarter hour before she was able to again relax enough to say anything at all. This was big: her inviting him over for support. He set all irony aside—this was too important for cynicism. “I apologize for the leading questions—I’m just curious. You talk about whatever you want this to be about when you’re ready.”

“Nora’s been such a bitch at work! Every day I come in expecting to see her on all fours wagging her tail.”

So much for shelving snark: Deb took the conversation to their common area of interest. It was once again like the fun conversational part of previous hook-ups, except that she wasn’t resisting cuddling, pulling away only for animated gesticulations when ridiculing life and others, then cuddling back into him of her own volition(!).

It was fun and something they truly had in common besides lust interests, yet after an hour of snark, Nate wondered what happened to the primary goal conversation. “This is epically great, cuddling you and slagging life, but what about your grandfather?”

“What about him?”

“Did we already talk all you wanted about him?”

“Yeah.”

“Not that I’m objecting, but… was the whole ‘wanting to talk’ thing a ploy to get me over here, for the same stuff we always do?”

“No, because if things were as they always were in the past, we wouldn’t have been cuddling for the past couple of hours.”

“Sorry. This truly is the best time I’ve ever had with you, Deb. Just that when you wrote and said ‘talk’, that’s what I thought you literally meant.”

“It’s so messed up.”

“What is?”

“Growing up. My family.”

“Yeah… families are like that.”

“Wait… you‘ve never said anything about your childhood being messed up.”

“You’ve never before shown an interest in me as a person nor my past.”

“I’m interested” she replied, nuzzling into him. “Please tell me.”

“Mostly it wasn’t overtly obviously messed up, and that’s what makes it harder for other people to understand the parts which were. We weren’t wealthy but we weren’t wanting for food, shelter, or material things. They were intelligent and open-minded, and still are. What messed me up is that they weren’t all that physically demonstrative. Mom seemed to have a built-in timer: she’d hug or cuddle for about 3 minutes, then gradually ease people away—at least me. I’m quite sure that’s at least part of why I’m so into the touchy-feely stuff, and soft, warm, plush women.”

It startled her to see a solitary tear escape his right eye, triggering deep empathy within her, which in turn startled him when he saw it on her face, for the first time ever. Yes, things were different this time.

Deb felt lost. She knew she needed him there for support, but as always with someone actually present, she shut down into protective mode.

“Just a reminder: I’m ready to listen when you’re ready to talk.”

“I’m ready to talk about dinner, but more importantly, make it happen.”

Dinner turned out to be some frozen calzones, a basic green salad, and glasses of red wine. The wine turned out to be a dangerous idea: it slightly uninhibited each of them. There weren’t any inhibitions to uninhibit in terms of things sexual, but there certainly were in terms of other forms of intimacy. They each grew more physically squirmy and loose-tongued.

“Nice pouty lips” he said. “What’s their nature?”

“Classified… yeah right” she said with her trademark disdain.

“Total truth! Government project, like I said. You don’t have to believe me.”

“Not the project… Jennifer.”

“Jealous much?” he snickered, poking her teasingly.

“Not even!” she declared, in a state of denial. “Just… keepin’ track of the competition.”

“She’s married and spawned two rug rats. Dialed down the flirt as soon as I found out. Still like watching her eat, though… makes me dream of you being that big.”

Deb’s eyes grew wide, as part of an overall shocked expression. “What? All this isn’t enough for ya?!” She shifted over to sit fully atop his lap so he could feel her full weight, wiggling side-to-side for emphasis.

“You’ve never been better, Dub D. You’ve also never been mine, nor anyone else’s main squeeze, last I checked. Hence I dream.”

She shifted back over sitting next to him, so she could once again flirt face-to-face, his of which she stroked as she teased, “We might be able to make a special arrangement.”

“Whatever that might be will work better if we know each other better. So what’s the mystery of your past?”

“No.”

“Oh come on, Deb! We’re so close! We’re trusting each other—I think—I am! You keep saying how things will be different this time—and they are, and it’s awesome. Isn’t it time for you to share something?”

“No” she insisted with a slightly petulant tone. She shifted around so that she was lying down on the couch, with her head in Nate’s lap. He lovingly stroked her hair with his right hand whilst squeezing her belly and breasts with his left hand—a perfect combination, as far as she was concerned.

“Now that you’re resting on the analyst’s couch” he teased a few minutes later, “tell Dr. Strangebeard about your father’s father.”

“He was from olden times, born over a hundred years ago, in Cincinnati. Went to college, as had his ancestors–”

“–Know which one?”

“No, Dr. Interruptus.”

“Sorry. Please tell me more.”

“Worked his whole life, starting as a paper boy in his youth, then selling door-to-door—shoes, I think—to work his way through college. He studied electrical engineering, and got a job with Westinghouse not long after graduating. You would’ve really liked him.”

“I’m sorry we never met.”

“Yeah…. We’re not… I don’t do that IIR shit. He’s had dementia these last few years anyway, so you would’ve had to have met him more than five years ago.”

“What about his wife… your father’s mother?”

“Never knew her” she replied frankly. “She died of cancer before I was born.”

“Ever hear stories about her? See pictures of her or anything?”

“No stories. All Daddy and Grandpa said was that she was ‘a great woman’, but they never elaborated. She was kinda average attractive for her day, I guess. I don’t look much like her.”

“Did she give you some of your boobage?”

“Nah. She looked to be about 30C… maybe D.” Deb’s mind drifted to the long-ago time she passed through that size range—something she wasn’t about to share with anyone.

“What about your Daddy?”

“No. Out of bounds.”

“Still?”

“Forever.”

“Not even his early life, with your grandparents?”

She didn’t feel at all good about this, but other than his prodding questions, he was doing an excellent job caring for her, in a way she hadn’t let anyone care for her most of her life. “I can’t.”

“Not even when he was born?”

She let out a deep sigh and looked up at him sadly. “My father was born at the end of World War II, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My grandparents didn’t want to bring a child into a world engulfed in war, so they held off until it was obvious the war was winding down and would soon end. At least that’s the story I was told.”

“And then?”

“He had a good life until… stuff happened and then it got really shitty for everyone.”

“No details?”

“The end.”

“Not even his childhood?”

Deb’s eyes fluttered in frustration. She might have reverted to her old ways if she wasn’t lying down prone with her head in his lap, being cradled and caressed so tenderly as well as sexually as she preferred. The clincher was the sensation of his penis pressing into the back of her head, which for some reason she found soothing as well as sexy. “Grandpa did well at Westinghouse… he was some kind of engineering manager when Daddy was born and growing up. Daddy had one of those typical storybook childhoods all the Boomers yammer on about: stable family, decent neighborhood, crazy-ass economic prosperity—the whole nine.”

She stopped just as it seemed to him she was getting started. “Did he like school?”

“I’ve already told you way more than I’d intended.”

“Doesn’t it… feel good to share?”

She looked up at him with a hurt expression, unwilling to answer verbally.

“Let’s go to bed. Or fuck… or something” she eventually said.

“I get the sense that your father is a great man. Is? Was?”

“I’m warning you, Nate: don’t push.”

“What about your mom? I haven’t heard you speak of her.”

“She isn’t worth a single fucking word!”

Her outburst startled him, especially how her body again tensed up hard as she ranted. He went back to silently caressing her, hoping to keep things calm.

“So mysterious” he couldn’t help saying a few minutes later, still lovingly and lustily stroking her. “I’m gonna haveta look him up online. What’s your dad’s first name?”

“Nate, stop!”

“Never mind. I’ll just look up Dunbar and trace back from there.”

“Do not!”

“You don’t have to tell me, but there’s public information out there.”

“Don’t be a bastard! Let it go!”

“Yeah, fine—for here I will.”

“No—in any way, any time.”

“Public knowledge.”

“You can’t know!”

“You can’t get on with your life until you work through it!”

“You mustn’t know!”

“Why not?”

“It’s family! It’s private, you bastard!”

Bang—right here, Nate should have sensed that things were spiraling out of control. His life-long inability to let things go was about to trigger another incident.

“Wow—Daddy must be a badass! That’s why you like us bad boys!”

“Bastard! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she shrieked.

“You won’t tell me!” he yelled back. “‘Daddy’’s too precious for anyone to know about!”

“You bastard! You bastard! You bastard!” she screamed as she once again started to pummel his chests full-strength with her fists, this time from her lying down position.

Something was different this time, and it wasn’t just her: Nate was not afraid. Somehow he knew that if he ran off in fear, he’d be back with her in the future, and the pattern would keep on repeating. Something about her expression looked frantic to him—more fearful than he’d noticed in past times with her. In just a few seconds from when she started hitting him, he grabbed her wrists firmly, arresting the movement of her fists. “No. No hitting” is all he said—calmly—as he held her still, quite like a parent patiently teaching a child right from wrong.

Deb immediately fell silent, and seconds later relaxed her muscles. A couple of small, soft, primal whimpers escaped her lips.

What he saw in/on her face amazed him: before his eyes, her street-tough hardness faded away. It startled him to be suddenly gazing upon the face of a little girl: soft, innocent, wondering… and a bit fearful.

Her eyes scanned around, as though she’d just awoken from a very long sleep. The fearful expression grew briefly, then receded as their eyes again met.

Her pure, gentle innocence brought out his own, similarly so buried beneath his adult facade that he hadn’t even remembered there’d once been this other part of him. He felt her go limp as she continued to gaze at him, silent tears starting to roll out her eyes. He bent far over and kissed her lips gently, setting off a jolt of love electricity through them.

“You’ve ruined everything” she said softly, in a near whisper, once she recovered from the jolt. “There’s no going back.”

“What’s wrong with this?”

“You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

“Correct. I do not.”

“You pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed, over and over, time after time… and now you’ve broken through… to the inner me.”

“That’s good!”

“Is it?” she answered dramatically, pausing in hopes he’d think more critically about what he was saying. “You’ve shattered my defenses, which took a lifetime to build up! You’re inside with me… the inner me. You can never leave.”