chrissy

“Not necessarily complaining over here,” I finally managed, knowing full well that Steph knew exactly what she was doing, making me flustered and unsure of exactly what to say. I’d actually been on a number of first dates myself, and I tried to get image of her out of my system—but I simply couldn’t. And to find out she felt similarly… “Sooo not to rush, but it is Friday… Did you have plans?” Steph texted back. “I suppose I do now, haha. Where to?” “Honestly just thinking of drinks at like, 10pm somewhere? Just catch up properly, it has been a while there’s this place called Pocket Bar I went to a few weeks ago that was actually pretty cute” “See you soon!” “:)” Not wanting to somehow change her mind or mess something up, I kept it short and tried—and somewhat, kind of, succeeded—to focus on work for the rest of the afternoon. “Well you seem happy,” my colleague Kaitlin said as I made my way past her part of the office. Kaitlin was now a good 6-8 months in to her new role and, as far as I could tell, thriving. She was still looking on the thin side, but I could swear maybe ten pounds had stuck to her frame, maybe as a result of the new stresses of the job—not that it mattered. She was every bit as stunning as Steph though, just brunette instead of blonde, and had the good humour to match. “Yeah… yeah, catching up with a friend tonight,” I said. “Just a friend huh?” Kaitlin said, swivelling in her chair and smiling incredulously. “I uh—yeah, well, kind of a date,” I admitted. “Well have fun out there for me, good luck. I think I’m just gonna catch up on a couple of work things and rewatch The Bear as I’m a little boring, but I’m okay with it.” “Not a bad plan actually.” “Mhm. Well see you Monday and don’t go too hard tonight, haha.” I nodded and headed out, deciding to walk home and make the most of my evening by catching up on a couple of work things myself. Around 8pm I got another text. “Two hours. You excited?” Steph texted. I was at a coffee shop. I decided to look up her Instagram—nothing but high angle selfies dating up to last November, and then nothing for the past five months that included her. I wouldn’t know what she looked like now even if I wanted to. Not that it was any of my business. But I’d seen such behaviour before… “Honestly? Just really happy to see you again and catch up,” I texted. It was true. Even if there was a strong and ever building undercurrent of teasing and attraction, it was still true that I loved her personality, which only made things more exciting. “Well, cya soon :)” Finally I arrived at Pocket Bar—a little early, 9:45pm; I wanted to make sure we got a table so we could face each other—it was cute, as promised, with imaginative decor everywhere. I tried not to go on my phone in the dim light and not let my heightened emotions betray me, but in honestly after five months I was almost moving with anticipation, after having given up on the idea of seeing Steph again—at least in this way. Finally, I saw Steph’s familiar neck-length blonde hair pass through the entrance. I got up and walked to the front to meet her—she must have been giving a huge smile seeing my reaction, a mix of excitement and maybe mild humiliation, because Jesus Christ. I immediately saw why Steph seemed to want to drop off the edge of the world on social media for a while, if the goal was, as it was up to this point, at least trying to keep up appearances. And granted, she did it miraculously well right up to last December. But now that bubble, so to speak, had burst. The first thing I noticed was that under her blazer, she’d opted for the same loose, translucent top she’d work since we were colleagues last October—but now, it wasn’t even loose. It gripped every corner of the tight black shirt she had on underneath; her chest must have been an F cup at this point; there was a distinct bulge at her midriff that could no longer be tamed, and her jeans—graduating another size—held in quite a bit, sitting at or just above her navel, in what looked like an elaborate arrangement of five buttons, in stretchy denim meant to accommodate her apparently persistent and perhaps even growing habits. I did my best not to stare, but I’m sure I failed at least a bit. The most amazing part was that her face hadn’t changed at all—on zoom calls, I bet she got away with it just fine. But her body now told an inarguably different story. Stephanie had crossed the line. “Oh my god, hi, so nice to see you!” She went in for a hug, and I could immediately feel her softness and largeness compared to just five months ago. She looked at me mischievously, already being able to tell she was having the intended effect on me. “So? I see you got us a table, thank you.” It was at that point I notice the weight had even begun to impact her voice—there’s an undercurrent of honey that plus sized woman have when they speak, and it had now made its way to Steph. I watched her walk over to the table, and I had a flashback to the Uber we shared in December—there was now a perceptible jiggle in every step Steph took. Sitting down, the sliver of cleavage that now appears due to her red top’s newfound tightness made itself known. I joined her. “So what are we feeling?” Steph said across from me. I drank her in, a vision of heaven, the same Steph I knew from days as colleagues, now completely given in to her worst habits and impulses… a full blown BBW, and as she would probably say, she didn’t exactly hate it… She smiled, staring me down a little. Finally she added, before I could collect myself— “in toxicated and you haven’t even had one drink.”

Thanks! It is more or less realistic... I would know haha.

“… So the question, Stephanie, is how do we create that perennial bestseller, you know? Not that I expect you to just tell me here, but just something to think about,” who appeared to be Stephanie’s boss (or the CEO? I wasn’t sure), Michael, offered. He looked to be in his forties or thereabouts, and probably spent his whole career in the upper ranks of the organization. That was how it was sometimes with these family companies. Steph swirled the beer in her glass. “Yeah no, I hear you. It’s tricky because you don’t want to chase the puck, you want to go where it’s going, you know? Yet at the same time bestsellers are bestsellers because they’re bestsellers. So it’s kind of a chicken and egg thing I guess. You know what I think… I think, this could be the alcohol talking, but we could do to take more risk. Just saying, I don’t know. Let’s see how I feel tomorrow, haha.” Michael nodded. He clearly respected what Stephanie had to say, even it was a bit demurring. “Hmm, yeah. Let’s sleep on it. Well it’s great to have you on board, again. It’s only been a few months but it feels like longer!” “Haha, well thank you. Cheers to that.” Steph turned to me, her blonde locks swirling around her well defined face in turn. She smiled. “Holding up? I know it’s a lot of names and stuff. Sorry that you have to tell people you’re in telecom; it would be slightly awk to have someone from the competitor at the holiday party, to say the least. Maybe even not allowed, not sure. Anyway.” “Yeah no, just happy to be here,” I said, trying not to spend all my time taking in Stephanie’s incredible form. The relationship dynamic had changed, whether we wanted it to or not—the friendship was there, but no longer colleagues, and we both knew I was mainly there for one thing and one thing only—to be utterly teased, which for better or worse only emboldened Stephanie to go even further down the garden path. I noticed throughout the evening she drank a lot more than I remembered from even a couple of months ago—if I had it right, she was on her fourth, held in somehow by her doubled Spanx and leggings underneath her dress. I also noticed Stephanie was getting more looks in general from the men in the room—maybe because I was looking for it myself—but probably because the cleavage she has on display was borderline indecent for a corporate event. And yet, there I was, generally enjoying myself for being at a relevant spot for my career, but mostly, let’s be honest, for Steph. “Well… you’ve been on your best behaviour all night. Thank you for accompanying me like a gentleman,” Steph turned and said to me as we inched closer to 10pm. “Will you get an Uber for us to share back?” “Um yeah, for sure…” I put in both addresses, hers and mine. I didn’t want to assume anything, as much as I wanted to. As we got in the car, Steph simply smiled as I glanced over at her form. Her rear really filled the seat; you could tell the Spanx was almost cinching her to the limit. Yet she smiled. She knew. You could tell she was used to it… almost relishing it. Too soon, we reached Steph’s place. I watched as she got out and got the best view of her bottom I’d seen… possibly ever. “Well don’t be a stranger, huh? I’ll let you know if I need a date for another event, haha. It was super fun hanging with you again.” Steph smiled, knowing exactly what she was doing. “Um… yeah, any time. Likewise!” I weakly offered, feeling absolutely smitten. While we would text from time to time after that, that was it with Stephanie for a while. She kept a low profile on social media, too—if she posted, it was other people, street photos, maybe a croissant—that kind of thing. And once in a while, a selfie, where she looked much the same—but I knew that was not necessarily the case just underneath. Finally, in May, I got a text that was quite different in tone than the usual industry and media habits texts we’d been volleying back and forth. “I have to say, I am so extremely impressed with how so, so patient you’ve been and the self control you’ve exerted,” Steph texted. “Like truly, I’m in awe. And I’ll be honest, I’ve been on a few first dates over the past five months, but I never quite stopped thinking about our ‘date’ in December. Or you. So… maybe this is crazy, but do you just want to like, have a date? See how it goes? I don’t want to ruin our friendship but I’m just too curious haha.” Before I could respond, an addendum: “… and yes, I know you’re wondering, I’ve gotten bigger 😇”

Just wanted to say I have a rare morning available now if anyone wants to chat.

Any guesses on weight? I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out she’s over 230 at this point.

Just me, or does it look like she's wearing some kind of corset or girdle?

If that's how big she looks trying to minimize it on camera, imagine when she gets home and takes those pants off at the end of the day...

Nothing too serious I suppose, I've written a lot of stories on this site based on observations of friends and personal fantasies and I have to admit it might be starting to happen to me a little bit... I want to say almost inevitably. Feel free to DM

It was an incredibly long few minutes as I sat in her apartment, wondering just what I had gotten myself into and what Steph had in store for me. It was now clear as day that not only was she aware of my noticing her curves over the years in her previous job, she was into it. And the job change, for whatever reason, accelerated the whole process. Maybe fifteen pounds would be a bit of an exaggeration, but she definitely looked different in the same outfit and was without a shadow of a doubt the heaviest she had ever been. “Okay, ready?” I head Stephanie from the bedroom. “As I’ll ever be,” I responded meekly, trying not to get overly excited. The door opened. Out came a vision from heaven, immaculately put together and clearly custom designed for the evening we were about to have out with industry people and colleagues. Steph’s red dress went down just past her knees and clung a bit to her hips, but it was clearly a new acquisition. A touch of cleavage was accentuated with a silver necklace; a jean jacket kept her arms under wraps. It was extremely apparent, having just seen her truer shape just a moment ago, that Steph was putting on Spanx—maybe doubling it up, even. By way of some miracle, she appeared to take off some twenty pounds or more, actually looking even more out together than when she left the previous job, somehow. At the same time, there were some clear signs she was struggling, bursting at the seams—the way the area between the top of her Spanx and towards the beginning of her bra continued its trend of bulging out conspicuously, cluing in the attentive viewer that Steph was practically pouring herself into her borderline-plus size outfits these days. “You look amazing, Steph. I mean, you know that.” “Why thank you. I guess I’ve learned how to keep it all together, I suppose. Haha.” She walked up to me and a faint perfume ** me as I observed the way her blonde, shoulder length locks swirled to the rhythm of her voice. “It’s a tough industry and it’ll be nice to have a familiar face nearby. Thanks for coming out.” “They know I’m from your old job, yeah?” I suggested. “Not necessarily. Don’t overthink it. You do want to come, right?” “I mean, yeah, of course.” “Mhm. Well we still have about half an hour to kill…. Just go to a coffee shop I guess? Or hang here, and stare at my boobs without worry of being caught?” “Hahaha. Steph, come on, we’ve been friends for years…” “…. So that gets you a free pass?” She smirked, teasing me, knowing full well what she was doing. “Hey…” Steph continued, moving to sit on the couch again. Her dress really strained and her stomach bunched up a bit as she did, and she tried to twist herself a little to minimize the damage. “So I just want to know. Remember in grad school when I twisted my ankle, and I had to go on crutches for like six weeks?” “Um yeah… still sorry that happened.” “… And I put on like ten pounds?” “Umm.” “Yeah, I know you noticed. Hahaha. Of course I recovered since then, but in the years since then it’s been kind of a long, slow descent…” “I uh… Steph, you do look good.” “To you.” “I mean, sure. I’m not going to lie.” “You’re cute. These past couple of months in particular have been crazy.” “I um… I can see that.” “You know, new job, new people… a lot of stressors. An opportunity to change up the wardrobe and finally ditch those jeans you saw me in every Friday. That was getting untenable towards the end.” Steph got closer, clearing enjoying watching me squirm as she leaned in on the details of her recent, obvious weight gain. As she sat, Steph’s dress went up past her knees; from the spread of her thighs, I estimated she was sitting around a size fourteen at least. Definite plus size territory. I looked down and surveyed the way her dress gripped every curve, past her amazing chest, imagining the arms that filled out her jacket completely, and finally up to her completely misleading, thin face. “Truthfully,” she continued, “I feel super conflicted about it… but I guess I like being bad often enough that here we are, huh?” “I… Steph, you know I like you, and your body’s your choice.” Steph raised her eyebrows. “Okay, I’m impressed. Okay, hot.” I laughed a little, caressing her arm through the sleeve. “Look, I think this could be really fun and I don’t want to ruin the great friendship we have either.” “Yeah, no, same. But now I’m going to be thinking about ways to tease you even more than usual. Is that okay?” “I mean… it sounds like I don’t have too much say here.” “Mmm. Well let’s go, shall we?”

“So? Gonna tell me where you’ve been for the past five years or what? I guess three of them don’t really count, hahaha,” Kaitlyn said, turning to her old fashioned. “This isn’t the worst tinder date I’ve been on, that’s for sure,” she added. “Ha well… me neither, not by a long shot,” I smiled. “Um you know, just trying to find opportunity and stability in this world…” “It’s not a job interview,” Kaitlyn said, smiling. I started to get a little flustered. “Yeah—yeah of course, uh—“ “Anyway, seen any good shows lately?” “Mmm… yeah actually, I went to Forest Hills a couple times this year.” “Oh yeah? Who?” Kaitlyn pushed in her shoulders a bit and I found it unreasonably difficult not to peek at her cleavage. “I uh… The Smile.” “Oh amazing! I wish I had gone, just something came up. Yeah I hope they come back soon… maybe this year. The benefits of being a New Yorker, right?” “Haha, right. Working treating you well? That is if you want to talk about work. We don’t have to—“ “Oh, yeah, no worries. Yeah, work is good. Feels a little same-y lately but maybe that’s a good thing? I don’t know. One day at a time huh?” “You said it.” Kaitllyn stared out into the alcohol rack. My eyes drifted all over her figure. It was still unbelievable to me, and we were both sufficiently full of liquid courage… “So… did you… want to come over to my place for coffee? I don’t know about you, but I gotta do something about this before I get a massive hangover, haha. We’re not in our early twenties anymore.” “I uh…. Yeah, that sounds great. Should I call us un Uber or?” “Sure… let me put in the address.” As I gave Kaitlyn my phone and as I observed the way her arms bunched up under her sleeves as she typed it in, my imagination started to really run wild. But I didn’t want to assume anything. But… come on. As we went into the Uber, Kaitlyn put my hand into hers, leaning her head on my shoulder—and I did my utmost not to interpret it too generously, but not be too cold about it either. I simply nudged my thumb from time to time against her skin, trying to contain my excitement as her new curves pushed into me in the backseat. “So here we are,” Kaitlyn said as we reached the seventh floor, pushing open the door to her place. It was quaint, but to be expected as New York apartments go—not unlike my own actually. “So… coffee.” I stood in front of her and she leaned with her back against the counter. Kaitlyn paused. “You know I’ve always had a thing for you, right?” “I uh… honestly I didn’t.” “But the same grad program could have been awk.” “Yeah.” “…. And something tells me my new curves don’t bother you.” I inhaled deeply. “… Or maybe…” Kaitlyn stepped up to me so that her face as close to mine; I could smell the old fashioned on her lips. Her hand reached out and grasped my rock hard member through my jeans. “ … it’s that they do bother you. Make you all flustered. I love that.” I placed my hands on Kaitlyn’s hips, and I realized then that her jeans went all the way up to her upper midriff. “Haha… yeah, high waisted. You hate it… you love it.”

I arrived around 9:45 at the Clover Club, not wanting the be the one to walk in, but it didn’t help my nerves much. I ordered an IPA and did what anyone would do in such a situation… I played on my phone. It took all of five minutes before someone walked up to me that look surprisingly familiar. It was Vanessa—a friend of Kaitlyn’s in the grad program, and perhaps unsurprisingly I quickly began to realize she had undergone at least a bit of her own transformation in the intervening five years since we last saw each other. A sliver of double chin adorned her otherwise remarkably similar face, framed in shoulder length blonde hair; her five foot seven figure was kept mostly under wraps with a long, loose shirt (dress?) with a buckle around the middle and black leggings underneath. Probably the biggest giveaway of any effects of mid-20s work stress (and yeah, the pandemic) was evidence of a chest maybe two cup sizes larger than I remembered—a D, or maybe even an E now. I kind of hated that I immediately focused on these details, but I just couldn’t help it either. It kind of jumps out at you, you know? “Well hey you, funny that Kaitlyn plucked you out of nowhere huh? Haha, how’ve you been?” Vanessa said, taking a seat next to me at the bar and crossing her legs. “Oh you know… uh…” I stammered, trying not to ogle her. “Ah, it’s funny because it’s been five years but it feels like yesterday, or at least two, for obvious reasons. Not that we have to belabour that point,” I said, shrugging. “Job’s been going well; the site I work for’s been great. News isn’t dead after all, right? And it’s kind of fun to focus on the entertainment side of things, for sure. Been cool to see the pictures come in before anyone else gets to. What about you?” “Oh, me…” Vanessa leaned over the bar a bit, and for a split second I could discern the way her shirt outlined her hips and lower stomach, clearly looking more than sizeable. “Yeah, I’ve been waitressing still a lot to be quite honest. It’s been a bit hard but you do what you have to do, you know? It’ll come. I do a lot of freelancing but I’m starting to wonder if I should get that jobby job, haha. Well at least where I work there’s free drinks, hahaha.” “Ha, yeah fair. It’ll come, no doubt. There’s so much time still for us, right?” “Mm. You’re right.” Just then I heard Kaitlyn’s voice to my left, a bit behind me. “Hey! Looks like you’ve already re-met my friend Vanessa, haha.” I turned and faced Kaitlyn, getting up from the bar stool. I thought I was ready to see her after seeing her pictures on OKC over and over this evening, but I really wasn’t… seeing her in real life, it wasn’t just a fifty pound gain. It was really more like seventy. I realized she made an effort to minimize things and maybe even post some older pictures, even though they were new to me. Basically, Kaitlyn was now as big as one could get and still produce a selfie that looked relatively average-sized. I noticed she kept her chin up a bit to maintain the illusion of a slim face—which she actually did admirably well—but as soon as my eyes drifted downwards, I was faced with her chest, which at this point was almost certainly an F cup. A tastily sliver cleavage predictably devolved into a ruffle of black shirt around her midriff; her jeans must have been a size sixteen. I went in for a hug and thankfully Kaitlyn obliged; as my hands went around her, I could immediately tell she was at least twice the woman who I last saw graduating with that master’s five years ago. Even her back felt eminently soft under the layers of clothing. I pulled back for fear of overing doing it. “So? Want to stay here for a bit then, get a table?” “The bar’s fine for sure!” As Kaitlyn took a seat where I was next to Vanessa, I noticed the way her bottom absolutely engulfed the stool. I ordered drinks for all of us and we exchanged in industry stories and the like. It was actually genuinely refreshing to get to know how a fellow graduate was doing a little ways after graduation—not to say I hadn’t kept up with any of my classmates, but we all definitely went our separate ways. I kept wanting to ask Kaitlynn anything at all that alluded to her body, but I also knew that was an absolute no-go, so I deferred. Three drinks in, Vanessa got up. “Well, I better go—I have an early shift tomorrow. See you soon, Kait?” “Aw babe, so sorry. See you so soon!” Kaitlyn got up and they hugged. All I could do is dumbly smile, third old fashioned in hand. As Vanessa left, Kaitlyn sat back down and turned to me. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.” She smiled. “Should I be bad and order a fourth round? Tomorrow’s Saturday.” I raised my eyebrows. “Um, I’ll take that as a yes. Hahahaha.” As she laughed under the looseness of her alcohol-induced demeanour, I could tell she was sucking it in before and now she was letting go a little bit—even just the way her shirt fell on her was markedly different. Kaitlyn turned and glanced at me, and we locked eyes for a moment; even then I relished in her cleavage from the periphery of my vision.I still hadn’t gotten over just how big she had let herself get—she was one of the last people I would have expected this to have happened to. On the other hand, for some girls in my limited experience, the more strenuous the weight management regimen earlier on… the more explosive the blow up when they finally let go. That was definitely what happened, for some reason or reasons, somehow. Certainly little to no denying it at this point. I wasn’t sure where it was all going, but I was sure as hell going to find out.

“Hey, well good luck huh? See you around?” “See you,” Kaitlyn said, smiling in her cap and gown. It was 2018—yeah, give years ago already, somehow—and we were both moving on from a masters program in journalism. Though we became pretty good friends, nothing more really came of it—and I was interested, but also careful should it go south while we were both in the program. Company, ink, and all that, so to speak. She seemed too busy for it too. It wasn’t for lack of trying—she was absolutely gorgeous, possessing a quality to her not unlike Emily Deschanel—it was hard to put a finger on, but it was definitely there, in the mannerisms as much as the facial features. Even though grad school was not unexpectedly a huge stressor, Kaitlyn fared well enough so far as I could tell—none of the inadvertent weight issues, pretty much, or at least very little—maybe up and down five to ten pounds on her somewhat lithe, five foot eight physique. We followed each other on Instagram, but I thought little or nothing of it in the first couple of years especially—she almost never posted, and when she did, it was something about her bullet journaling setup or concert pics or something like this. Some time around Christmas 2019, out of sheer curiosity I decided to check the tagged posts for Kaitlyn—and was a bit shocked (and intrigued) to find that she had almost definitely put on a good twenty pounds since graduation, judging by the size of her chest and how she generally looked in her dress in the office party candid. Knowing it would be weird to DM out of the blue, I decided to try to think nothing of it. So that’s sort of the context for leading up to my next chance encounter with Kaitlyn—in 2023, on OKCupid. And this time? There was no hiding it… in her pictures, Kaitlyn had turned to exclusively wearing the sorts of tops that emphasize her (now, seriously impressive) cleavage and falling into a black, ruffly mess designed to minimize the shape of what lay beneath. And beneath that—jean leggings, without a doubt, again designed to create the illusion of the way she effortlessly was back in 2018. I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if she added another thirty pounds on top of the initial twenty, honestly. The sliver of double chin and her noticeably thick arms on the group shot at the bar were mesmerizing… I just had to message her and try to get at least a date. I had to see her in person. I wrote and rewrote the message, hovering the send button. What to say? How’ve you been? Lame. Been a while? Also lame. Looking good? Absolutely not—probably a touch subject and not worth in anyway getting into with her. Finally, I just went for it. “Hey Kaitlyn—took me a whole pandemic to say hi, but better late than never huh?” No expectations attached, no weirdness. I hit send. And waited. Finally, the dots appeared. I actually felt a bit nervous. “Hahaha. I hope you’re doing alright, seriously. Good to see someone I’m actually familiar with on here :)” “Ahaha, same. So where did you end up, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Yeah no that’s cool. In industry. Behind the scenes stuff—office stuff. Definitely more my speed anyway, it turns out. You?” “Same kind of. I guess we can’t all be reporters with boots on the ground, huh?” “Haha, I guess not. Well tbh I don’t know yet if I want to call it a date but it would be nice to catch up. You busy tonight?” “Not in the slightest. Was just going to spend Friday relaxing but it looks like I have a change of plans.” “Haha. You mind if I bring a couple of girlfriends? It’s fine, we’ll just hang, no big deal.” “Not at all. Where at, when?” “Mm, 10pm? Clover Club cool?” “Yeah for sure. See you in a bit! Be nice to catch up.” As cool as I played it, inside I was a wreck. Holy shit. Kaitlyn—my grad school crush—has not only just gained like fifty pounds in the past five years, but she was going to meet up with me at a bar.

I rang Steph’s buzzer and went up feeling a weird sense of anticipation. Steph opened the door; her vanilla scent was stronger than ever—but what hit me even more was the sight in front of me. Despite apparently joining a gym and and talking about her concerns, Steph had on the same getup as two months ago—jeans, spanx, tighter top and a loose red translucent one on top of that—and let’s just say, there was no hiding the cleavage at this point. Whereas before it was sort of up to which way Steph tugged and adjusted her shirt, now—in what I estimated must have been fifteen pounds later—not only was there a tantalizing crest of softness up top, but her arms looked eminently squeezable too. And her stomach and hips… if before it was manageable, now it was obvious that her jeans were way too small. Like, think twice before going out in public in that small. She walked up to me. “Coffee’s made. I’m going to get to the point. As you can see, the gym didn’t really work out…” She turned and went to the couch; sitting, I could see even more cleavage and I noticed her stomach bunched up in a new way that she’d need more opaque, looser clothing to effectively hide. I was getting harder by the second. “But I suspect that doesn’t necessarily bother you, does it? I was thinking about that night…” I stood there, feeling nervous. “Be straight with me. You like bigger girls. I don’t even have to ask… but what would it do to our friendship if we got together? Or what ever is this, what do you want it to be?” I hesitated. “Exactly… So I’m not going anywhere, but I want us to take this slow. This would be so much easier if I didn’t love a good tease… Anyway, I wanted to see what you thought of this dress. Hold on.” Stephanie walked out to her bedroom and closed the door, leaving me to process what the hell just happened.

Finally, in about late November Steph texted me out of the blue at the end of a work day. “Hey. I’m so sorry for being radio silent these past few weeks… wanna call?” I called her immediately. “Hey stranger, haha,” I said, trying to keep it light. “Hey, miss me yet? …. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—that night got way out of hand and I ended up realizing I don’t know what I want. How are you?” “Good! Good… they ended up hiring outside for your job apparently; she starts next week. Unfortunately now it’ll really hit home, haha. How are things at the new gig?” “Good! Yeah, just… way more corporate, as expected, but it hits different from you’re actually there, you know? They have pretty great doughnuts on Fridays though, haha.” “I bet. Did you um… want to still keep in touch? Um…” I didn’t know how to approach it without scaring her off. “Um, yeah. I’d love to hang sometimes. As friends.” “Of course!” I said, a little too loudly. “So anyway…” We continued on about the latest TV and news, and I was happy to be honest to have been able to keep Steph in my orbit, at least. “So I joined I gym,” Steph eventually brought up. This for some reason made my ears burn a little. The subject of her weight was possibly coming up. “Yeah…” she continued, “I just, you know, I used to walk to work but now I’m having to drive, and I guess Starbucks doesn’t have zero consequences for me anymore, haha. And I want to fit in my bridesmaid dress for wedding season next year, hahaha.” “Good goals,” I said, unsure what else to say. “Don’t worry, I’ll still have curves, haha,” Steph said, seemingly unable to stop flirting despite also wanted to put up the friend zone. She was hard to read at times, to say the least. “Yeah, I’m trying to find balance as well. Guess we’re considering the new years resolutions a bit early, huh?” “Mm. Well take care of yourself, alright? And text me sometime. It does get boring here sometimes, to be honest. You know how it is.” “Oh yeah. Take care, Steph; miss you.” “Miss you too.” We continued to text on and off for the next three weeks; I never wanted to push for a meeting or hangout, deciding to let Steph be the one to decide. It was getting close to the holiday parties in mid-late December, and about two months after I had last seen her. I wondered how her new workout routine was going. Finally, on a Saturday she texted me, “Hey… kinda random (or not really), but want to be my plus one at the holiday party next Friday? You know, schmooze with the big boys in publishing, haha, I know you don’t care about that, but it’d make me feel a bit less awk for sure.” “Yeah, sounds good!” I waited five minutes for responding to try to keep my cool. Again, I hadn’t seen her for two months since the big tease she gave me… The week went agonizingly slowly, but at least I got to meet Stephanie’s replacement in the art department—Kaitlin was similarly nice, and if I had to be honest, similarly beautiful, albeit more conventional weight-wise (not that it matters), and a brunette. She mostly kept to herself for the first couple of weeks, which was fair—there was a lot to do and learn, plus a couple of weeks to catch up on since the hiring process didn’t go as smoothly as anticipated. Finally the Friday came, and I got another text—“hey, wanna help me get ready? Be nice to actually chat in person a bit before going in.” “See you at 6?” “Mm, 5? I need a solid couple of hours haha, plus time to hang.” “See you soon.”

As soon as we entered her apartment, we were practically all over each other. I could only halfway take in her place—as promised, it was super nice with all kinds of colours and accoutrements you might expect someone who did visual art as a living to have. Stephanie grabbed her phone for a second. “Set the lights to 10%.” They obediently dimmed, and she took off her shirt, revealing a dark green bra and putting even more attention on her outgrown jeans and the pronounced lip of spanx that covered her hips and stomach above that—once a temporary measure, and now standard, I thought. I tried to pry down her spanx, but she swatted my hands away. “Mmm… not tonight,” she said **, instead moving her hands under her bra and diverting attention to her chest—which, to be fair, was looking absolutely stunning. Notably, she stilled seemed to be sucking it in and controlling her midriff a little, even totally ** and in the middle of this show with an ex-colleague-turned-lover. “Mmmm, you need some relief though, don’t you, after all this excitement tonight,” Stephanie said, running a finger down my chest. Everything felt electric as Stephanie peeled the clothes off me as they were and she began to graze her fingers along my body. “Feels nice huh?” she whispered in my ear. At this point she had me wrapped on her finger—well, she always did—but now it was painfully obvious. “Mmm… should I make coffee?” Stephanie suddenly turned away and started to rummage in the cupboards, leaving me throbbing. She knew exactly what she was doing as she turned around and flashed me a smile. “I um… uh… yeah, that sounds good,” I said, still drinking in the sight of her shirtless physique. All the challenges her body was making to her jeans was confirmed; her hips rolled seductively popping out and seemingly very nearly over the belt line, held in only by that rim of black, soft elastomer. “You just can’t even handle seeing me without a shirt, can you,” she said, laughing; her boobs quivered empathetically. “I do like seeing exactly what I do to you… I think I might just miss that the most, teasing you during the day.” So she was doing it intentionally. “Anyway… here we are… want to just hang for a bit?” I nodded, still nursing a throbbing member in my pants. I wanted Stephanie so badly, but I knew she was more interested in toying with me… it was a test, of sorts. Or so I told myself. Steph threw her red shirt back on and we made small talk about the last week of work, tying things up. “You know, I’m going to miss you, too. All of you,” I said, looking up from her chest to her face, catching myself staring too easily. Steph smiled. “Well I’ll be around.” “When we kissed earlier, was that…” I started. “… A bit of drunken fun.” Steph smiled again, this time a little unnervingly. I began to realize she wasn’t sure what she wanted exactly. “Well I enjoyed it.” “Haha. I know…” Steph subconsciously tugged her jeans up a bit and pulled down her shirt, leaning over with her stomach with her hands in front. It seemed the coffee was kicking in and she felt a little more self-conscious again. About half an hour later, I began to see myself out, sensing things were strongly headed one way for the evening and now going quite another, as it seemed Stephanie had a change of heart, or something happened. The turnaround seemed to be right when I tried to get her to reveal her stomach, but it was hard to tell what exactly triggered it. I gave her a hug before leaving. “All the best on the new gig, huh?” “Mmm, thank you… see you soon, okay?” “Sounds good. Have a good night.” “Night!” I walked down the hallway feeling like I didn’t blow it, and that was good. There was a chance, still… We texted from time to time after that, but mostly it seemed after that evening Stephanie had all but ghosted me, oddly. I tried not to think too much of it, as I knew forcing the issue would do absolutely no good at all. Until about three weeks later.