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Beach Chub
🕑 Added 2020-06-17 14:26:19 +0000 UTCThis took longer for me to get done than I thought it would.
Also, there will hopefully be some illustrations coming up for this fic.
Short Story:
Blue Whale Buoyant Blubber Board Shorts
You were pretty stoked, invited out to the beach by your crush! In fact you were so excited that you packed without really thinking and you drove almost all the way to you crush’s beach house without realizing that you’d left your swim trunks at home in your room. Sitting in your car, pulled off to the side of the beach strip not far from your crush’s place, you covered your eyes with one hand and berated yourself for being so dumb. You couldn’t show up without swim trunks. They’d think you were a dork!
Finally you realized where you were and clocked your own forehead, “Duh-doi, this is a beach town. I’ll just go to a surf shop and buy a new pair!” You cranked up and turned back into the town. But apparently, because it was a low traffic week for vacationers a lot of the shops were closed. You groaned, driving past the fourth shuttered shop. What were you gonna do?
You were so busy worrying about where you would find some swimwear that you weren’t paying much attention to where you were turning. And eventually you found yourself driving through a residential district, unsure of how to get back to the commercial strip to continue your search for an open surf shop. Grumbling and cursing yourself some more you kept taking random turns, just hoping that you’d stumble back onto the road you’d been on a little while ago. The GPS on your phone was no help either, it just kept circling you back to this street. So finally you turn it off and toss your phone in the floorboard in frustration.
“I’ll just backtrack…” You murmur, peering through the yards and between houses trying to spot the shoreline, your crush’s place is beach front so that’d be a good place to start. But the yards are a little wild here, and the vegetation is dense enough that you can barely see through it on either side of the dwellings.
You feel like you’ve been turned around about five times before, just as you were considering taking your phone back out, punching your crush’s address back in, and owning up to being the kind of excitable dork that runs off without their swim trunks, you finally find yourself in front of what looks like an open surf shop. It’s a little dingy looking, but it’s definitely what you’ve been looking for all this time!
Relieved, you can go on and buy a pair of trunks and explain your lateness as you having stopped off somewhere to get something to eat…your crush always seemed to buy that for an excuse whenever you were running late to something. Once inside you get a kind of spooky vibe from the place, there’s nothing too far out of the ordinary here…the décor looks like the owner shops at Spirit Halloween for their interior design needs, but there’s nothing that should set off your paranoia like this…
“Welcome to the shop!” A voice says suddenly behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.
You turn to see a very normal looking woman with loosely curled blond hair and a motherly face. She looks apologetic for giving you a scare.
“Oh goodness! Sorry for giving you a start, dear!” She says, wringing her hands a little. “Tell ya what, I’ll give you an extra 10% off your purchase to make it up to you!”
“That sounds good, Ms.…” You look at her apron and see Chelsea embroidered on it. “Chelsea, really interesting shop. I’m surprised that this is the only place I’ve been able to find open!” You say, trying to shed some of your “spooked” feeling, Chelsea seems nice enough but something still feels off. There’s no one else in the shop, in fact the place is so small that you could have sworn that it was completely empty when you walked in. Though…the owner was short enough for you to have missed upon your first glance around.
“Yeah, I haven’t been here long, and I was surprised myself at the kind of schedule the other shops keep. Normally by this point in summer they should be open.” The shopkeeper said nonchalantly, “Feel free to browse, I’ll be at the register when you’re ready. Oh, and swimwear is in the back.”
She points helpfully toward the back wall, and you feel a little thrill of “off-ness” again. Of course it’s not too farfetched that she could have guessed you were here to buy swimming trunks, but you hadn’t mentioned it either. You put it out of your head and walk back toward the wall where she’d pointed.
There’s loads of very high quality swimwear here, in a huge range of sizes. From extra small all the way up to what had to be 12 or even 18 XL. One particularly huge pair of trunks hung up over a sign declaring “BIG AND TALL SECTION” looked like it was as wide as you were tall. You stare at it for a few minutes, walking around it to see the back you marvel at the very detailed stencil of a blue whale across the seat. “That’s a bit…spot on.” You mutter to yourself and can’t stop a laugh.
You continue past the titanic trunks and start looking for the selection in your size. All of the trunks are like that apparently. Not necessarily with a blue whale stencil on the butt, just a lot of highly decorated pieces of swimwear. You see a few with sharks, some with seals, and others with marine plants on them. You brace yourself as you reach for a pair that look like they would fit, such detailed and ornate stuff has to be expensive and surf shops are always overpriced in the first place. But, when you look at the tag the price is very reasonable.
“Twenty bucks ain’t bad…” You mutter and turn it over, looking for anything wrong with the garment. There’s no loose stitching on the decoration, a barracuda on this one, but something about it doesn’t really grab so you place it on the rack to browse some more. How impressed you are with the price and inventory of the swimwear section kinda drives the sense of “off-ness” out of your head. By the time you’ve moved down two racks you think this surf shop might be your new favorite thing about this beach, after your crush of course.
You flip through the swimsuits; hammerhead sharks, dazzling corals, graceful dolphins and other cetaceans. All of them beautifully made, and all seeming to call in some way. But none quite right? You decide the shop is definitely weird, but definitely awesome too. Finally you find a pair of trunks that look like a miniature version of the pair hanging over the big and tall section. But instead of the detailed stencil of the whale being on the seat of the pants, it’s a bit smaller and on the right leg. Maybe it’s just because it matches the gigantic pair, but you decide you’ve got to have it.
You make your way back up to the counter and Chelsea smiles at you. “Find everything alright?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll take these.” You say laying the trunks on the counter, as you bring your hand back you find yourself reluctant to stop touching the fabric but you just make yourself put your hands into your pockets while the shopkeeper rings you up.
You insert your card into the reader, unable to stop yourself from stealing glances at the trunks as Chelsea puts them into a bag for you. Finally, you take your purchase and head for the door, idly considering changing into the trunks before heading back out to your crush’s place. The way the fabric had felt on your fingers made you really want to put them on. But you decide against it, with some reluctance, you’re already going to be much later than you’d told your crush you would be.
Carefully watching your speed, your crush would never let you hear the end of it if you got another speeding ticket on your way to see them, you head back out to the beach front strip. The sun is getting a little low when you pull in the driveway.
Your crush is on the back balcony waiting for you, drink in hand. As you get out they look dramatically at their wrist, “I say, I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten.” You roll your eyes, they weren’t even wearing a watch.
“Stopped for something to eat on the way.” You say, but your stomach chooses to turn traitor and gurgle loudly. Your crush frowns.
“You know how important it is to eat before doing exercise, and if we’re gonna swim tonight you’ll need to eat.” They say, shaking a finger at you as they stand up, the early afternoon sun casting bright highlights in their hair and making their tan-tawny skin look darker as it backlit them.
“Fine, you twisted my arm.” You laugh and wave a hand before leaning back into your car to grab your bag. You hurry up the stairs and you find yourself slightly distracted by the feeling of your new trunks against your arm. “I’ll just change before I eat, alright?”
“That’s fine,” your crush said, “The pizza isn’t quite ready yet anyway.” They turned and headed for the kitchen. “The guest room is the first room on the right down there.” They point before tending to the meal. You can smell the pizza in the oven when they open it to check, your stomach rumbles loudly again making you blush.
You hurry to the room to change, practically tearing out of your current outfit you’re so eager to get these trunks on. As you pull them up you turn and admire yourself in the mirror, still pretty slim despite how little activity you’ve been getting in lately, and how much junk food you’ve been indulging in. Just a little bit of a paunch which the waistband of the new trunks cradle snugly, the feeling of the fabric on your skin is divine.
Maybe it’s your eagerness to get back in the water, but as soon as you get the trunks on it feels like you’re floating in the surf…almost. You don’t bother with a swim top as you apply some sun screen, you need to tan up a little anyway. And the beachfront here is private as well so the two of you won’t have to vie for space either.
Finally walking back out to the dining area you see that your crush has made seven pizzas, “seven…that’s nuts,” a small part of your brain marvels but it’s quickly silenced by your hunger. You dig in while they relax in the chair next to you, one or two slices of pizza on their plate.
As you plow through the pizza, you barely feel any fuller even as you pack away your 7th…8th…9th slice. And all the while your crush is hardly touching theirs; preferring, apparently, to watch you eat. This is a realization that makes you blush profusely, but is not sufficient to slow the pace of your feast. You move on to the third pizza, inwardly you’re shocked at how much you’ve managed to put away, your crush scoots their chair closer to yours and leans against your shoulder.
“See, I knew you were hungry,” They say softly, fondly, as they put one of their hands on your belly. The touch makes you shiver a little, could…could your crush…have a crush on you??? You freeze for a moment as your crush rubs around your taut belly tenderly.
Eventually they notice you’ve stopped eating and look up, “Oh, are you full? There’s still plenty if you want more.” They ask, tracing around your navel with one finger and almost sounding disappointed, either they’re oblivious to the fact that you’ve eaten enough for a whole family on your own or…or that’s what they’d been planning on.
“Oh…I could eat more.” You say, and you’re not altogether surprised to find it’s true. You return to your gluttonous display, putting away the 3rd…4th…and 5th pizzas with a surprising amount of ease. By the time you’re gulping down the last slice of pizza number five you look like you’ve swallowed a beach ball.
Your crush sits up straight and puts both their hands on either side of your belly. “Hmm, I guess that counts as a decent meal.” Your breathing quickens again, they’ve always pushed you to eat just a little more whenever you two hang out at mealtimes, but this is an entirely new level. And…it feels good.
Without being prompted to continue you pull the remaining two pizzas over and start to gorge once more, your crush lets out a soft contented sound and starts to rub your belly more firmly. There’s no denying it now, your crush is clearly a feeder. And well, it looks like you’re officially their feedee now.
That sense of “off-ness” from the surf shop returns now but you shrug it off. Everything else feels so right, even the fact that you’ve eaten more in this sitting than you’d normally be able to eat in a week. You even eat the one and a half slices of pizza from your crush’s plate, or rather they feed them to you, whispering praise in your ear. They help you heave up from the table and support you as you make your way to the couch, you lean heavily on them finally feeling like you’ve eaten seven pizzas.
Once there, your crush takes another bottle of lotion and starts to work it into your overstuffed belly. The sun lowers in the sky, and you look over at the clock blearily. Somehow it doesn’t surprise you that you’ve managed to gobble up nearly 7 whole pizzas, minus the half slice that your crush had eaten, in less than two hours. You groan and belch intermittently as your crush expertly massages your bloated gut, either they’ve had practice or it’s something they’ve done extensive reading on. It hardly matters to you, it just…feels so good.
The massage goes on for a little while longer, the overwhelming fullness that came over you as you’d finished the last of the pizza abates and you start to feel softer. As you sit up there’s a definite roll to your midsection now, you don’t find this at all odd. There’s still a few hours of sunlight left in the day, it’s time to hit the beach!
You shove your crush who, not expecting it, practically falls off the couch. “Race you to the beach!” You say and jump to your feet.
“Hey, no fair shoving! You’re so much bigger than me!” Your crush calls, scrambling up and giving chase.
Bigger? You’re not that much bigger than your crush…are you? You find it hard to worry about it for too long as you just about gallop down the walkway and down the steps onto the white sand. You wince and gasp as the sunbaked beach sears your feet. You can hear your crush sprinting along, they’re fast but you’ve got a head start. You’ve already made it to the damp sand, which is blessedly cool under your hot tootsies.
Your crush catches up and grabs you by your side, you can feel their fingers sink into the softness there. A little confusion sparks up in your head, but you shake it off as the two of you walk down the beach and into the surf. The water is cold on your feet, but it feels right. The tide is coming in, and soon you and your crush are in water past your knees. A breaker smacks against your midsection, you feel your belly ripple. Belly? You shake your head again and just keep wading out deeper. Finally you’re past the breakers; out past chest deep, your crush is swimming lazily around you in circles, and you just let yourself roll onto your back and ride the swells.
You float placidly, feeling the swells lifting you and just relaxing for a while. Sometime later you spot your crush again a ways down the beach swim, they look back and stick their tongue out at you before swimming further away. They’re faster than you so eventually you content yourself with keeping them in sight. They’ll swim back over soon anyway.
Another huge swell washes past you, it feels like it rolls through you. It lifts you, and you feel your chest come up…a second later than the rest of you. Your midsection keeps rising for a split second after the swell passes. You shake your head again, like a dog trying to get water out of its ears. Did you just feel your face…jiggle?
A little more “off-ness” returns, but then your crush passes you again on their lazy laps around you, their hand brushes over your midsection. You shiver again as their fingers grip into the softness at your middle. The confusion returns, but it’s just a whisper now. Who cares what’s going on when it feels so good?
There’s a massive swell again, lifting you and your crush. You let it lay you onto your back, your crush gets pressed against you and you feel them sink into your midsection. Once more you feel parts of your body continue to rise once you’re past the crest of the swell; your chest, your midsection, your back…even your butt and thighs feel like they’re lifting and rippling with the waves. Your crush slides off of you, when did they wind up on top of you in the first place? Then they swim around behind you, you feel their hands sink into your sides again. Their arms seem to be touching more of you than normal? It feels like your sides have wrapped around their arms.
They squeeze themselves up to your back, your body seems to conform to them like memory foam, and they whisper in your ear. “I love you, you’re so huge, so soft, so…” They breathe in, and the last word comes out husky and smoky, “Fat.” They lean forward and plant a gentle kiss on your cheek, then nip playfully at the soft domed bulge of it. You can feel their teeth press into your plump round face.
Another swell comes through, and this time there’s no confusion. You watch, swelling with pride and swelling in general, as your colossal belly lifts up with the wave, and then floats back down to plop against the sand under the surf. Your crush swims around in front of you, swims up the slope of your belly to rest between the fatty boulders of your chest. “Ah, my island.” They say, reclining there and gazing fondly up into your blubbery face, wreathed in cheeks and chins.
You lift your arms, simple enough, easy enough while they’re in the water…but more difficult once their above it. Flab drapes over them, sagging back into the water, as you wrap your arms around your crush. There’s no “off-ness” now, it’s just right.
“I’m hungry again…” You rumble to your crush, swinging your elephantine legs and propelling your bulk toward shore. You bounce and wobble, you can even feel your calves brushing against your feet as the pudgy things bear you through the water and up toward the beach.
“Oh, we can’t have that, my blue whale.” Your crush croons, leaning in for another smooch on your pudgy cheek as a breaker crashes against your huge rump. You jiggle and ripple, underbelly and thigh rolls bouncing, everything’s just swell. You can feel the lowest extremities of your gut brush against the sand as you waddle up the beach.
Your crush slips back down your belly and presses themselves into your side, supporting as much of your bulk as they can. “I’ll order up, and while we wait…I’ve got loads of ice cream”
The End
