In, Not Thin

Barb Bloom had never been as happy to be asked to go take a comprehensive STI test as when Gretchen informed her that she’d passed the initial acceptance and background check.

Thankfully the STI test results held no surprises: clean, as expected.

It wasn’t the time of year for a whole-group orgy, of which there’d been one just under 2 months prior. Group meet-ups with anyone feeling motivated amongst group members tended to happen weekly on average, with anyone able to get with anyone else in individual pairs or triples or whatnot. The core members who tended to have the highest drive for both sex and life partnering with multiple partners lived in the communal houses, and tended to at least be home in the evenings, even if not interested in physical intimacy on a given evening.

Right around 2/3rds. of the membership made a point (those who didn’t already live there) of dropping by for the first routine group get-together with Barb as a new (on probation) member. As usual, the new member was the center of attention, with everyone into her wanting to give her a consensual go of whatever agreed-upon form.

Tara absolutely was there. Normally when others got into things outside of her interest range like BDSM or a number of far more extreme lifestyles or kinks, she filtered what they were doing out, focusing instead on what she was doing with whomever she was with. Her interest in what Barb was into sexually didn’t allow her to do this at this specific gathering. Barb had a much larger range and comfort zone than she did, leading to some uncomfortable observations and more than a few questions she’d ask her later.

Later, when Lou was running himself into and out of Smooth, Don was working Furry similarly, and Don’s buxom wife Sheila was draping her big boobs over Tara’s shoulders and rubbing them against both sides of her head, Tara admitted, “I feel so vanilla, compared to Barb!”

“You haven’t been vanilla since you were born!” Don laughed, in his big, booming voice, smiling as he usually did.

“At least not since coming of age” added Lou.

“We’re all allowed our tastes” Sheila joined in. “As long as each of us can do what we like and try new experiences of interest to us and play safe within the group, anything from pure vanilla—which is none of us so far—to ultra-kinky like Curly Joe is as good and worthy as anything else. Teethe me, please?”

Barb’s first event was a smashing success. No one had any issues with her, and everyone had a great time. It looked highly likely that she’d continue to do well far past the end of probation in about half a year.

Barb and Tara absolutely were in each other’s friends + lovers mix, visiting each other between group meets, sometimes with others, often not. Beyond their friendship of years ago, they found they really liked each other on many levels as adults. Neither had as much time for their friends including each other as they’d like, given the necessities of work careers plus the chores of life. Still, modern communications technologies allowed them to stay in touch, and relative to other people who might not see friends more than once a month or once a year, they got together in-person quite often.

The half-year point for Barb in the poly group came and went: she was in. No question, not even close. Something else happened a few weeks later—something unexpected.

Tara knew the moment Barb arrived at her house for a Friday evening and overnight together that something was on her mind. The ruminative plus slightly worried expression remained on Barb’s face long after they were inside and into their pattern of calmly getting undressed with chit-chat, then gathering some refreshments and sitting down cuddle-close on the couch in the more laid-back family room. “What’s on your mind, Pillow?” she asked, Pillow being her pet name for Barb, given how profoundly soft she was nearly everywhere from being so profoundly fat.

“Landlord’s son needs a place to live, 3 months from now. That’s plenty of notice in a legal sense, but it still means I have to get my fat ass in gear for finding something else.”

“Yeah, that’s no fun.”

Barb inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Is there any chance at all that I could move in here with you?”

The rush of feelings which burst through Tara said Yes. Her rational mind throttled things down. “Depends. There certainly should be room, especially if you’re willing to only put out part of your Babylonian nutcracker display at one time. I’m not sure I feel all warm and fuzzy about having Curly Joe over if you two get into golden lawn sprinkler stuff.”

“We can do that at the group houses. I don’t need to have him over here. I don’t need to have anyone over here that you don’t especially want here, or don’t want here at all, period. Please? I think we could have a lot of fun living together, and we’d be economizing not running two households. I’ll be sharing utility costs and cleaning and laundry if you want. Yard work; all the usual stuff. Or only those aspects you want me to contribute towards, if you have some you especially enjoy or don’t want me meddling with.”

She looked away contemplatively, sighing. “We should probably have separate beds and bedrooms, so we have space.” Turning back to her friend she added, “But I’m going to want to sleep with you every night you’re not sick or with another lover.”

“What kind of ‘sleep with’?” Barb cheekily asked.


Barb’s moving in with Tara in Tara’s house was where the again good friends discovered how into each other they truly were. No, it wasn’t friction-free nor otherwise perfect, but they got on better than many married couples who hadn’t lived together before marriage. They worked well together as a team, including Tara going over to Barb’s rental one final time to help her with the final post-move cleaning. Barb was out in under a month from the initial 3 month’s notice, pleasing the landlord. She got every penny of her cleaning deposit back.

As much as each of them were happy single women by nature who enjoyed lots of freedom in their own home, they were on the same page for enough things that neither felt much loss of freedom. Sharing the cooking and other chores gave them each more free time. Especially when they worked together, which was often for cooking and close to always for grocery shopping, they had that much more time to share stories of their lives, current and past.

They were not full-out nudists, often wearing clothes at home the way most people do. Nude time was bathing/bed time through morning every night, and warm-enough weather weekend and vacation days when they were kicking back and staying home.

Barb’s bed was in good enough condition that she brought it over for “her” room, more for use as a guest bed or “someone’s sick” bed than individual sleeping. Tara had a king-size, which was a little snug for the two of them, but at this point in their now-full-time IIR, snug was good! As contented singles, each of them figured they’d need to get used to sleeping with the other before they could again sleep well. Wrong: the comfort of cuddling together had each of them sleeping better straightaway. If they’d remembered that this had been the case a few times when Barb had overnighted, they might have reached the correct conclusion initially.

The most surprising thing about living with Barb every day versus the occasional overnight or weekend in the past was how much food she blew through. Tara knew Barb had been a big eater during visits, but thought perhaps she was excited or celebrating, not doing everyday eating. One early point of contention was how to add more cold storage space: second, small or possibly used refrigerator added in the garage (Tara’s choice), or a bigger brand-new refrigerator for the house with the current house refrigerator moving out to the garage (Barb’s choice, backed by more than half or even all her $ for the new one). On account of the big new one being more energy-efficient and having a rebate, Barb sold Tara on that option, based upon lower total energy consumption for the 2 appliances plus greater overall cold storage plus a new refrigerator with a warranty plus knowing the history of the one moving to the garage.

Being around a big sensual foodie eater and being a sensual foodie herself, it was inevitable that Tara ate more and got fatter. So did Barb, having a live-in sensual foodie buddy. Bigger, softer bodies, able to feel more, required to rub more as they passed each other in hallways and other tight spaces. More sensual feelings for each of them merely existing in their individual bodies, moving around or just resting and mindlessly caressing themselves whilst doing other things.

“You’re cuter, fatter” Barb told her lover one day.

“How so? My boobs aren’t any bigger.”

“Boobs are sexy. Faces are cute. You have more softness on your cheeks and the sweetest double chin—oooooh!”–Barb couldn’t help tweak Tara’s chins, with a sound effect.

Tara giggled from the playful loving touch. “I’m quite liking how big and soft Smooth and Furry are getting. I’m feeling the difference at times I wouldn’t normally notice, such as walking around.”

“Getting the greater clit rub thing yet?” she grinned.

“Yeah” Tara grinned back. “Both sides.”

“Don’t make me envious.”

“We’ve been over this countless times: I win on pussies, you win on boobs. Each of us gets pleasures and deals with inconveniences the other does not.”

“Let’s stop talking and 69.”

“Which side?”

“Smooth, please.”

The way their rippling waves of body fat fit together as they intertwined was pure art, which would make nearly any sensual, sexual person want to be a fat woman!