Note: This story is completely true; it actually happened recently. Questions, comments, suggestions, criticisms: b_slugger@yahoo.com (Parts of this story could be considered offensive by some)

I sat upon the couch, eating a batch of accidentally burnt pot-stickers I had just made, watching a shitty television series on DVD with my friend that he especially liked while he slowly ate away at his overly-spicy Curry that he had also just made. We were both zoning out; for I had spent the night at his house-like I normally did, most days of the week-and had gotten very little sleep. Our conversation was at a minimum, for between the DVD and our weary, sleep-depriven minds, all of our attention span was whisked away.

I munched on a pot-sticker, and decided that I hadn't scraped off enough of the charred outer part. I worked away on it with a knife, expertly flicking the chunks under the couch. Finally, I was able to eat it. Pot-stickers are incredible in almost any form. Almost.

After a while, my friend stood up. He yawned, and scratched his stomach. He said groggily, "Dude, I'm gonna take a shower. Just keep on watchin' man, it's kickass."

I agreed both curtly and falsely, and heard him leave the room. His living room was one of the back edges of the house, and most of the walls were comprised of windows, allowing full view of the backyard. Most of his back walls were made of windows, and as my friend walked through the main room of the back of the house, he grunted; and I knew that it was something to do with the yard. I didn't think much of it; thinking it was a cat or something of the like. But as the minutes crept slowly by, I started to become curious; probably because the TV show wasn't keeping my attention. Finally, I turned around to look at what it was. I was stunned.

I instantly knew who had opened the sliding glass doors fifteen minutes ago: my friend's sister. After leaving (bad grades were involved) at the end of her first year of college, she went back to her primary source of stability: her parents. I had met her before she had graduated from college, and had even gotten strunk (stoned and drunk) with her a couple of times. She and her friends had become passive friends with us after they learned that we had lost our "pot virginity", and taken us with them to things like the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and other things that usually involved alcohol. She was always near petite, with a small, slender frame, and breasts that were a smidgeon larger than your average "skinny chick's". She was very pretty, and often was away with members of the Football Team. When she came back from college, she looked pretty much the same; except at least 50 pounds heavier. I am the worst at guessing weight, so just impress upon yourselves that I said at least.

Her breasts were phenomenal, two huge, swaying pendulous orbs that pushed any bra to its limits, and covered part of her stomach when out of one. And her stomach; it was soft and round, and aproned slightly over any waistband. Her legs were thick, wondrously so, and had developed a slight amount of cellulite. Her ass was round and soft, and ate up her jeans. Her arms were round and flabby, and pressed upon her breasts when they were at her sides. And lastly, her face had become slightly puffier, and a double-chin hung behind her chin. She was gorgeous.

When she had first come back, her parents were slightly appalled-though they were both obese themselves; so that struck me as odd-and had forced her into dieting. She had stuck to it-at least when her parents weren't home. But about a week or two before she had outright said that she was quitting it, during which I was part of the audience (being at their house as much as I was, I hardly missed anything), and had to work hard to hide a smile. Over those two weeks, I constantly made brownies and such, and always added things like too much oil, to drive my friend and his parents away from it. This killed two birds with one stone, for it was now more fattening, and no one but their gluttonous daughter would eat it. Pans would disappear within a day, and she had noticeably gained since she had quit her diet.

Now I looked upon her beautiful, voluptuous body, sun bathing. She lied upon a chair, in naught but a thong and a small towel wrapped around her breasts. I gasped, and my heartbeat soared. It was a bad angle, for I could barely see her body. I quickly took hold of the situation, and spied a spot where her body would be at the best viewing angle: the kitchen. I quickly took my half-full plate of pot-stickers in, pretending to put it on the counter. She didn't even look up from her magazine.

Her kitchen wrapped itself around the walls, and in the middle was a marble mini-table that stretched the length of the kitchen, which was where I sat. I looked through the glass walls at her, her belly and legs prominent. Her legs shook with every movement, jiggling and pressing against each other as she shifted positions. Her belly jutted out over her thong, making her look naked, for her love-handles covered the sides. I quickly got a glass of water, trying to look like I had a reason to be in the kitchen, and silently thanked any god that existed, for my friend was in the shower, and his parents gone. As I filled the glass, I caught something in my peripheral vision. I turned just in time to watch her take off the towel, and unveil her bountiful breasts. I choked noisily. Her breasts were beautiful, and so large that they laid upon her fat stomach. She gazed down at them with a look that I guessed was admiration (she had sun-glasses on, so the only way I even knew where she was looking was where her head was pointed). She shifted them about on her body, and they rested against either arm. I betted that they would have drooped down over either side of her body if her arms weren't in the way. Her nipples were beautiful, not too big, and not too small. They were perfect.

I jerkily sat down on a stool, and watched her sun bathe, erected fully. And then I saw something beautiful. She picked up some sunscreen, and started lathering her breasts. I almost died. She squeezed them, and rubbed them, sensually and sexily. They glistened in the summer sun from the sunscreen.

She shifted positions again, and turned away from me. Now I could see her beautiful, giant ass. And her thong had slipped; it wasn't in the middle anymore. I sputtered water all over the counter. Even though I appreciated breasts far more, a nice, juicy, hot fat girl's ass is always a sight to behold. She shifted back, and i grew nervous. What if she were to see me? I decided to head back to the living room, and mentally agreed to check back on her periodically.

I spent maybe a minute or two before I got back up again. I nearly sprinted back to the kitchen, and looked back at the backyard to see what she was doing. I almost stopped: she was lying on the ground, and seemed to be looking right at me. I couldn't tell, because of her sunglasses, so I kept on walking. When I turned around again, she was lying on her back, a towel over her enchanting breasts.

I smiled to myself, and waited a bit. I was rewarded handsomely for my patience. She tore the towel off yet again, and sat bathing, almost completely nude. I tried not to think about the absurdities of someone watching their best friend's sister topless-and nearly bottomless-, and watched her divine form as she shifted. I noted happily that she seemed to have some difficulty with her new weight. She had to use her whole body just to move around, causing her mass to jiggle and bounce sexily. I shuddered with sexual pleasure, and had to go back to the living room to collect myself. This time I spent at least fifteen minutes before I checked back on her.

She had switched positions yet again, and now was back in the pool-chair, towel nowhere to be seen. I smiled, and sat back at the counter, watching the enchantress. Except now a sense of urgency was upon me. When was my friend getting out of the shower? No time soon, I hoped.

And then she stood, and stretched, her breasts swaying sexily. And then my heart stopped, as she looked right at me. I choked, and my brain stopped. She caught me. I desperately tried to think of what to do; but nothing came to mind. She finally ended my mind's turmoil when she waved-causing her breasts to jiggle and bounce-and said in a happy-go-lucky tone, "Hi Mason!"

I stared: she didn't care that I was looking upon her uncovered breasts. I didn't need to try hard to smile, and I replied, "Looking good!" and I punched myself in my mind.

But she just smiled, and shook her head good-naturedly, "Boys."

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened. We both jumped, and she quickly wrapped the towel around herself, and flung her fat body back in the chair. I quickly set back to work on my glass of water, while my friend walked into the room. He looked at his sister and winced, then turned to me, "What's up man? Did you like the DVD?"

I grunted, and replied, "No." rather quickly. He turned to look at his sister, and shook his head, "Disgusting. She really let herself go. She shouldn't have quit that diet."

I grunted yet again, and said nothing. He looked at me, quizzical of something, and asked yet again, "What's up?"

I just shook my head, "I'll tell you later, man."