#anharu fat...

[septusuki]

Even if Shiraishi An was a feedee, she was still Kirtani Haruka’s friend. Even if she was a waddling, greedy landwhale, she was still Haruka’s childhood friend. The same childhood friend she’d watched gradually inflate with fat over the course of the last few years. The same childhood friend she’d been teased, winked at and hip-checked by as soon as she so much as glanced in her direction. One thing was for sure; An adored her new size. She’d used it to practically abuse Haruka no end of times, throwing her fat-filled belly into her face, or leaping on the far smaller girl’s lap whenever it was available and piledriving her with more than two-hundred kilos of university freshman. Regardless of how many bruises she’d sustained thanks to the over-excitable, beyond overweight girl, Haruka was proud to call her her friend. Her best friend. Her biggest friend, for sure.

“An,” Haruka began, looking across the fast-food diner’s table at a girl with a portion size five times hers. Haruka had finished her food ten minutes ago, and An was still munching proudly through her third burger. “An.” She repeated, sighing as she remembered that An needed to practically have her ass slapped out of her gluttonous reveries whenever she really got into her eating. Sinking back into her seat and staring at the slowly expanding burger-pig, Haruka surrendered whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she mumbled to herself. “If I was that big, I couldn’t stand on stage, for sure…” She lamented, watching An’s flabby cheeks swell with meat, cheese and carbs for the hundredth time. With a near-orgasmic groan, An swallowed the motherload of masticated calories, then patted her fat belly.

“I don’t think you could — UNfghh — shtand, full shtop!” An garbled through half a mouthful of food, rubbing her reddening belly as it strained under the weight of her sheer mass. “If you were ash heffy ash — Ulp — me!” There was far more than an iota of pride to what she said. She patted her tummy with every syllable, lifting her crop top’s hem until she could readjust the band of her titanic sports bra. “Unfgh… That’sh better…” She moaned, sloshing back and giving Haruka a generous peek at her sweat-stained black bra.

Haruka abstained from staring, although she was tempted. “I didn’t know you were listening.” She chuckled, turning away from An and shrugging her shoulders. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it.” Crossing her arms, Haruka was reminded starkly that her own chest was tiny in comparison. She had the same make as An’s bridge-like bra, but hers was perhaps a dozen cup sizes smaller. An gleefully put on sizes that Haruka didn’t even know existed until her best friend had boasted about them to her.

“Nope!” An didn’t let Haruka get off so easily. She leaned forwards as far as she could, until the pasty flesh of her belly was pressed against the sauce-stained table. “You totally just imagined yourself at my size, didn’t you?” She sneered, running a finger in a circle along her flank. “Two-hundred and thirty-nine kilos of Kiritani Haruka~!” She jeered, up-to-date on her weight to the very millisecond. An always intently insisted on pointing out every kilo of fat on her body. She took another munch of her third burger, still rubbing her plappable belly with one hand. “Two — Unnfghh — fawty!” She moaned, adoring the fact that she was mostly definitely buttering up by the second.

Haruka shivered, despite the warmth of the diner. “I was not.” She growled back at the fatass as she slathered over her fourth burger, stuffing it all into her gob as she gobbled her way to a quarter-ton. “I would never picture myself at your… Size.” Haruka couldn’t possibly do herself such a disservice as thinking about what she’d look like as a pig the same size as An. However…

“Then what about Minori?” An gleefully interjected, wearily standing up and letting her belly smack onto the table with all the force of the three or four burgers she’d just devoured. “Hanasato Minori-chan, as fat as me?” With two eyes sharper than any other spot on her obese body, An leaned forwards. “Unnhh… Hawuka-chan… i’m sho full…!” An moaned, imitating Minori’s voice to a tee. Rubbing her huge belly with both hands now, An squished her fat rolls and hiked up her straining jean-shorts. “Uhn… Minori-chan, too fat to stand on stage…!” She laughed, sitting down with a fwhomph that somehow made her sound even bigger than she was. An’s hips took up every inch of the two-person diner seating, her overheated shorts sticking to the seat’s leather with a cloying, desperate glue.

“N-No!!” Haruka squeaked, her brain already infected with the images. It was far too late for her, she was already imagining it; Minori as a growing idol. Minori, eclipsing two-hundred kilos. Minori, blushing as her oshi obediently measured her obese body. Haruka shivered again — but this time, for an entirely different reason. “An…!” She scowled, blaming all the insidious images on the fatass of a friend sitting opposite her. “Now you’ve done it…”

“Hehe, done what?” An winked, knowing exactly what she’d done but wanting Haruka to say it, nonetheless. She tossed on the Minori voice once more, as easily as breathing. “Haruka-shama! I-I’m not that fat, right?” She keened, before digging into her burger again. An guzzled a barrel-full of coke, then licked her lips shamelessly. “Idols’re meant to get fat, Haruka-shama…” With a slow moan, An let a small cloud of sticky, meaty gas rise from her mouth.

“Of course not…” This time, Haruka imagined an entire world of fat idols. At the very least, an entire group of them. A plump, round group of fat idols. The thought made her tremble, in the worst way possible. They’d be greedy, fat and irreparably wide. They’d show off their growing tummies at every concert, squidging and playing with eachother’s blubber as they inevitably expanded. They’d be some of the biggest girls in Tokyo, and they’d be named More More Tummy. “Well,” Haruka swallowed, and looked at the meagre meal that passed for a part of her rare and precious ‘cheat day’. Forcing herself to stay thin was an exercise in embarrassment in itself. “M-Maybe…”