However, seeing was believing. My world turning upside down when I came face to face, lips to lips, with one of these poor creatures as I stumbled home drunk one night.
A slight drizzle comes down outside in a misty haze, the window by my seat fogging up as the warmth inside the bar clashes with the frigid cold outside. The whole place is abuzz, my usual nerdy haunt hosting an afterparty for a local convention, with people in various costumes and cosplay staggering about with new friends and acquaintances.
My stomach churns as I down my pint, the room-temperature beer disagreeing with the sickening amount of liquor that I had already drunk over the course of the evening. My friends were long gone, having headed home to get a good night's sleep ahead of work in the morning, leaving me to drink alone.
As the sickening feeling inside me builds, beads of cold sweat forming as I try to keep the warm beer down, I glance around the room. The hustle and bustle is hard to see through, my intoxication making it no easier, with chatting groups of nerdy folks bunching up shoulder to shoulder around the bar.
Further in I spy an odd sight for the festivities, someone apparently not enjoying their night. The short pale woman in her mid-twenties sits rock-still in one of the booths, her friends cramped in around her. A large set of tortoise-shell glasses rest atop her long nose, a giant-seeming set of dull yet deep brown eyes simply staring at the screen without much interest.
Brown fabric straps run up and over her shoulders, holding up her brown rustic dress that adheres tightly to her slender modest frame. A plain white shirt sits beneath, along with a set of white knee socks and shiny black boots finishing her look, the overall outfit leaving her strangely standing out in the room full of such vibrant colors.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash, the bright spark catching my attention and drawing me away from the seemingly bored young woman.
Deeper into the bar, up the back steps towards the board gaming room, I notice a long queue with a professional photographer near the end. A collection of tables sit pushed together just beyond them, the giddy crowd shuffling forward inch by inch as they approach the long hastily made panel bench. Various men and women sit in various states of dress, from the more cool and casual to full-on costumes and cosplay, each one signing things and taking pictures with those in the queue as they reach the front.
Between all the grinning and goofy guests I notice one that seems more drained than excited, her expression struggling to form much of a smile as she weakly poses for pictures in her costume.
Her emerald green eyes appear more tired than anything else, the long and tiresome weekend seeming to have gotten to her. Long synthetic dark green hair hangs just past her shoulders, hidden pins holding it in an 'M' shaped fringe. Goggles rest atop her head, a green and black bodysuit painting her curvy body as she holds out her tongue pathetically for photos.
"Froppy?" I mutter under my breath, finally recognizing the character through the fog clouding my mind.
Whoever the woman was she was damned popular, with a whole second queue forming so that people could get pictures with her once they reached the front. People pose alongside of her, each excited fan looking far more energetic than the woman as she weakly sticks out her tongue and adjusts her goggles.
Still, her expression probably wasn't why people liked her. While her expression was dull it did little to damper her beautiful and masterfully made-up face, and certainly failed to draw attention away from her large perky bust and wide hips. The suit clings to her body almost too tightly, the movement of her thick thighs as she shifted poses making me wonder whether it was close to breaking.
Heaving myself up from the seat, my stomach now aching and demanding something to ease the pain, I slowly make my way from the bar. Staggering and stumbling I wander out into the light drizzling rain, the cold water and freezing air helping to dull the sickening sensation wracking my body.
Shuffling down the street, the night sky above me shrouded in clouds, I find the whole place busier than usual. Glancing down at my watch I'm forced to strain my eyes to read it, my jaw hanging open as I notice that it's only a little after 9pm.
"Early... *hic*... Early night I guess" I blurt out, glancing around at the people enjoying meals in restaurants and trying to milk the last few hours of their weekend for all it was worth.
Inside I restaurant I notice a group of women, their table laden with empty bottles of wine ranging from expensive reds to celebratory sparkling. Boxes and wrapping paper sit by their booth, a bag sitting nearby to contain the various presents from jewelry to a poorly hidden vibrator.
A blonde woman sits in the center of the semi-circular bench of the booth, her blue eyes hooded and unfocused as she clutches a glass of half-empty sparkling wine. A small plastic tiara sits atop her dirty blonde head, the flimsy accessory distracting only momentarily from the large silver engagement ring resting on her lightly tanned finger.
Her slender frame slumps slightly in the seat, her sizeable bust threatening to spill out of her flimsy and slinky red satin dress as one of the string-like straps hands down her freckled arm. Her delicate face rests in one hand, her sharp and slender jawline balancing in her palm.
While the rest of the party seem to be equally drunk, they mostly appear to revel in the night as they order more drinks and food while inspecting the ring and joking about the presents they had brought.
On the outer edge of the booth sits a somewhat doughy yet certainly more curvaceous black woman, her dark chin-length curls tinged with a faint artificial red. While it's hard to see her face she seems to lack the same enthusiasm as the rest of the party, her movements being slower and more mechanical as she slips at her drink with her ringless hand.
The dress appears to be slightly ill-fitting, her subtly bulging belly getting pinched by the dark blue fabric as she sits. While her stomach seems to have grown since she last wore the dress her chest and ass also appear to have gone down that route as well. The fabric is pulled taut over her drooping bust, a hint of cleavage on display despite the dress trying to hide it, her ass pooling out beneath her as straining the dress at the seams.
Shuffling away, not wanting to gawk at the hen's night for too long, I try to continue my way home. However, the sickening churning of my stomach brings me to a stop as I realize I need to do something to calm it down or at least to soak up the alcohol.
"I need..." I wheeze, glancing around the street before spotting my savior in the shape of a bright neon burger sign. "Happy Burger..."
Staggering across the street, weaving drunkenly through the slow-moving traffic, I barely manage to make my way to the wide-open doors of the tiny fast-food joint. It barely has room for any customers, and certainly not for any to seat down, acting as the bare minimum storefront to serve the drunk clientele as they stagger home or between bars.
Thankfully, the wait isn't too long as most of the partying crowd had yet to file out of their clubs and pubs of choice. As I reach the front I listen to a tired and strained voice mutter to me.
"Hello..." wheezes the dull high-pitched tone from behind the counter, m gaze turning from the board of options above me to the young mixed-race woman behind the counter.
Her face hangs in a neutral position, her large almond-shaped eyes more looking through me than at me as she stares up from her place at the register. Her porcelain pale complexion seems to shine slightly in the harsh lights of the store, grease from the friers accumulating on her soft skin over hours of work. A small black cap rests atop her black hair, some long greasy strands hanging down to the small of her back despite the best efforts of her hair net.
She only stands at a little over five feet tall, her neck craning up to look me in the eye as we stand so close to each other. Her frame is skinny, her bony arms and fingers lacking much in the way of any body fat. Despite this her bust strains against the red polo top that makes up her uniform, the buttons either sitting undone or with gaps between them as the fatty mounds try to free themselves.
"Just a... tripple-decker bacon... staker" I muse, trying to think of the greasiest order I could. "Can I get onion rings on that?"
"Okay" whispers the girl, her weak smile revealing a glint of metal on her teeth.
As she puts in the order I notice a familiar sight working the grills and the friers, the young overweight blonde that usually took my orders at the store closer to my house. She moves between the stations with almost mechanical precision, her soft rounded face remaining frozen in an emotionless state as she races through order after order.
Her greasy dirty blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, a black cap resting atop her head with the happy burger logo emblazoned on the front. Her pink rounded cheeks are coated in a thin sheen of sweat and frier grease, the mixture of which leaving her with patches of red pimples dotting her face.
As she waddles between her workstations in the back my gaze locks to the truly prodigious bust the large girl has on display. Her uniform, a red polo shirt and black dress pants, doesn't appear to be properly sized for her fairly overweight frame. In an effort to cover her belly, the top has been pulled down to such a degree that the few buttons that remain on the collar simply cannot close over her bust. The outline of a large plain bra is on prominent display, her massive assets pressing it firmly against the tight confines of her top.
As I become lost in thought I barely notice the tiny part-Korean girl return to the counter, her hand thrusting a bag towards me.
"Here..." she mutters, lacking any sort of positivity in her customer service.
More than a little weirded out by the girl at the counter I just give her a little nod, taking my food and quickly making my way out of the store.
Ripping the bag open and fishing out my dripping greasy stack of meat and fried food I find myself growing a little embarrassed, my gaze turning to the gym beside me and the large window looking into it. I feel like I'm on display for a moment, my unhealthy choice painting me with a target as I slowly take the first little nibble followed by a massive delightful bite.
My gaze darts over the small crowd inside, looking for anyone that might be staring at or judging me as I hound down the massive burger.
I find myself locking eyes with a young Latina in her late teens or early twenties as she pounds the hypothetical pavement on a treadmill. Her glassy gray eyes look down at me from her elevated position, the young woman not breaking stride as sweat pours down her tan-olive-toned skin. Her black hair bounces with each footfall, the cute bob thankfully staying out of her eyes as she stares at me.
Her powerful legs are on full display as she sprints at a heavy incline, the firm muscles flexing in her tight black shorts with every step. Her behind, or what little I can see of it, seems large and tight as it bounces along in the clingy athletic wear. A gray top hangs from her slender frame, the loose cotton shifting constantly and revealing the black binding sports bra beneath as it holds down her bust.
Her gaze burns into me, the machine's incline growing higher and higher as I keep eating my food.
Swallowing down a mouthful of food my eyes trail past the Latina, watching as a slim thick blonde at the back of the gym spreads her legs on the inner thigh weight machine. The force of the machine forces her to hold her legs apart, the skin-tight light teal yoga pants leaving little to the imagination.
Her thighs and ass as thick, a firm layer of fit muscle beneath only working to pad out the deliciously supple fat on top. Her abdominals too are on full display, the faint outline of firm muscles and little body fat leaving my jaw dropping at the sight.
A small teal sports top clings to her chest, the large perky mounds being lifted into a large shelf that draws the eye. Her platinum blonde hair is tied into a tight bun, keeping it free from the equipment and out of her lightly tanned face. Her hazel eyes look exhausted, bags sitting beneath them as her plump plush lips hand open in a vacant expression.
My perverted gaze soon becomes too much even for me as the blonde in her early-to-mid-twenties begins to pump the weights once again. With a shiver running down my spine, the fear of being caught staring growing to daunting for me, I quickly race off and away from the gym.
As I round the corner, dumping my burger wrapper in a nearby trash can, I hear some shouting nearby. Looking up I watch as a young man stands behind a bouncer, the man looking like a wall of muscle poured into a black t-shirt, his voice crying out loudly to be heard over the deafening music from inside the club.
"Why the fu... kick... them out for?!" he screams, cowing slightly as the bouncer looks back at him with a glare. The young man simply slinks his way back inside, soon to be replaced by another bouncer to back up the first.
"Hey!" calls the new bouncer, quickly walking down the stairs. "They're regulars, I know their IDs are..." he begins to mutter, struggling to speak low enough to be heard over the bassy music while keeping the illicit information between the two of them.
"I don't care" grumbles the original bouncer, folding his arms over his chest. "Just look, they fucked. Acting all weird and shit, they've had way too much and we can't have 'em here."
"Look, that's not how..." the second bouncer huffs, the slightly smaller man trying to posture and feign being bigger by standing part-way up the stairs rather than completing his race to the bottom. He pauses for a moment, looking the three women over before letting out a little hiss.
"See, they're on some shit" the first bouncer grunts, his gaze snapping over to me as I watch them. "They can't stay here."
"Fine, fine..." mutters the other smaller bouncer, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I'll call a cab."
As I pass by I find myself drawn to the scene, or more so the players in it.
A tall and leggy brunette stands swaying slightly to the left of the group, her tan skin showing beneath her shiny light-blue PVC dress. A set of tall black and blue heels rest at the end of her long legs, the massive heel only adding to her height and leaving her towering over her friends.
Long brown hair rests in a layered and styled fashion down to her shoulder blades, gliding gracefully over her narrow exposed shoulders. The cloyingly tight dress acts like a second shiny skin, jutting out a little bit around the hips before ballooning out around her massive perky bust. It's almost eye-watering to look at, the front of the dress being largely open as the young woman's stomach and much of her chest are put on full display but for a series of golden rings struggling to hold the dress together.
Standing at the other end of the group sways a small redhead, a pair of massive platform boots being held with one in each of her petite hands. Her crimson locks are pulled back into a large set of buns, the nerd in me almost describing it as having a Princess Leia vibe. Her white dress is made of a looser white material compared to her brunette friend, the jute-like color pairing better with her paler complexion.
The dress itself fails to paint a picture of her upper body, the fit designed around a different constraint. I swallow hard as I see it, my mind reeling at the sight of the young woman's hips and behind as they both strain the material of the dress. As she sways in place I watch in awe as the overly generous ass beneath the dress shakes and jiggles, the muscle beneath clenching to stabilize her from falling over.
The girl in the center, compared to her two friends, is at least a little more well-proportioned. The young blonde, her long sandy hair ironed straight as it hangs around her chin, stares up dumbly at the bouncer. Her slender frame is accented by a rocking set of curves, her chest and rear each being a more modest yet still generous iteration of her two friends.
Her pink long-sleeved top has a plunging neckline, revealing her delicious cleavage and letting the world know her deep tan was likely deeply fake as well. A short and tight black leather skirt pines her slender legs together, painting her large plump rear and leaving her mincing daintily as she moves to walk towards the edge of the street.
"Hey!" shouts the shorter bouncer, pointing at me. "Move the fuck along buddy."
Not wanting to wait to be told twice I race away, staggering further down the street as I head towards the next street corner and the home stretch to my apartment.
Breathing deeply, my heart still racing from the last encounter and the fear of what might have happened if I stuck around, I hunch over a bin at the street corner. Looking up I can see my apartment in the distance, a decent ways down the street but still visible thanks to its looming and towering size.
"Watch out!" I hear a woman shout, the sound causing me to stagger away from the bin I was resting against. As I stumble back to look up at the source of the sound I watch as something races past the corner of my vision as it's quickly followed by the sound of shattering glass. Looking down I find myself staring at the remains of a beer bottle, the label holding together pieces of the shattered glass.
"Sorry!" cries the voice again, drawing my attention away from the potentially awful injury I just avoided and towards the rooftop it was coming from. Well above me, leaning over the fence around a rooftop beer garden stands a young woman, her short blonde hair hanging around her face as she looks down at me.
As I give her a thumbs up she sighs, turning around to look at the young redhead beside her. The two are dressed almost identically, standing in a white button-up shirt and black dress pants along with a black apron. The redhead's pale green eyes lock with mine, the tired look reminding me of my time in the service industry.
A hint of tattoos peaks out from her collar, the start of some art that lay beneath. Feathery earrings sit in her ear lobes, either being made herself or purchased from some small independent store. She is slender, lacking any of the major curves I had seen on my walk though not flat by any means.
"What the hell" grumbles the blonde, the redhead not really responding beyond looking down at me. "You could have killed..." she snaps, reducing her voice to a whisper as she leans in.
Looking around the rooftop it slowly begins to sink in, the sight of all the men and women dressed in business clothes leaving me with the impression of the place being hired for some sort of work event.
Standing at the far end of the garden, isolating themselves in the corner, I notice a soft and pudgy Chinese woman sipping at a large and colorful cocktail. Her features are delicate and cute, a set of small black glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, while her soft rounded cheeks appear rosy from the liquor in her system.
Her outfit itself appears once perfectly tailored, now a little too small after some weight gain. Her crisp pale yellow blouse clings to her torso, the button flexing over her chest and belly while the sleeves pinch at her arms. A long black pencil skirt wraps around her thick ass and thighs before cinching in at her knees, a set of sheer stockings covering the rest of her surprisingly long legs.
She watches as the blonde admonishes the redheaded waitress to little effect, slowly turning to look down at me. In that moment as our eyes meet I turn back to looking through the party, my gaze falling on the chest of an older woman as she paces over to grab another drink.
Her movements are stiff, as though she was struggling to walk normally, a short-sleeved dark red midi-dress with a fabric belt fluttering as she saunters towards the bar. Long wavy light brown hair bounces with every step, the few errant strands looking like spun gold as she passes by the lights.
Her olive-toned face shows the signs of age, the beginning of crow's feet showing at the corners of her exhausted and hollow-looking dark green eyes. The older Mediterranean woman exudes power, holding herself tall as she pushes out the practical shelf of jiggling flesh contained within her dress. It is oddly perky despite her age, either supported by a good bra or having had some work done, easily drawing the eye.
As she slips from my sight I let out a sigh, watching as the redheaded waitress disappears as well.
Stumbling down the street I grin warmly as I spy the front door to my building, the light drizzle of rain having slowly begun to soak me over the long walk home. In the hazy thoughts of getting home and into something warm, along with the dreams of drinking as much water as I could handle, I don't notice the sound of footsteps racing toward me.
As I pass by a nearby side street, the uneven stone path catching the corner of my eye, I finally notice the faint splashing sound of someone treading on a puddle. As I go to look behind me I feel someone practically tackle me, their full body weight easily causing me to stagger into the alleyway.
"Perfect..." drones a tired disinterested voice, a set of hands clutching at my collar.
In the faint light of the side street, the street lamps from the main road doing their best to try and illuminate the shadowy alley, I find myself freezing up as I look at one of the girls I had lingered on during my walk home.
My mind struggles to snap from the mixture of shock and the heady haze of liquor as she tugs herself closer to me, my eyes darting over her in the dim light as I finally find myself recognizing her from...
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