SongBird567
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Piece: Oh Mother...
🕑 Added 2024-11-04 02:25:22 +0000 UTCSeries: OC
Characters: Shannon, Harper, Jonathan
Contains: Female weight gain
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The day began like any other, with the annoying chirp of an alarm. Shannon stirred awake and slowly sat up. She felt the usual resistance but powered through with a groan. After that, it was a simple pivot, and she could place her feet on the ground.
Shannon sighed and rested her hands on her bare knees. This was the most challenging part of each morning. With a groan, she started to lean forward and attempted to stand. It took a few tries, and her bed offered louder groans of protest each time. Eventually, Shannon accomplished her task and waddled toward the light. The reason it took so much effort for Shannon to get out of bed was simple.
Shannon was fat.
She knew that. She’d been overweight for most of her life. It would take an extreme suspension of belief for a 45-year-old woman not to realize she was a few hundred pounds heavier than the average person. Not like she cared.
Shannon would complete her morning routine just as she usually did. She waddled to a dresser and selected her favorite red shirt, black pants, and red belt. She tossed the t-shirt she had slept in away and shimmied out of the pajama shorts that adorned her broad hips. Her shirt stifled a yawn as she pulled it over her head. Then she grunted as she maneuvered her plump arms through the sleeves. Once through the small holes, she tugged the fabric downward. It failed to cover the lower portions of her belly, but Shannon liked to say that was by design. I mean, her head and arms fit through! That meant it still fit.
Shannon leaned her right shoulder against the wall, steadying herself. She needed the support, or she would have fallen to the floor. That would cause an impact sure to wake the entire house, perhaps even the neighbors. She lifted one leg, and the other began to tremble in response. Shannon could get around easily enough, but trying to balance all of her weight on one leg wasn’t optimal. That’s why she quickly stuffed her meaty leg into her pants and guided it up her thigh. She repeated the process with her other leg and could wiggle her hips into the snug pants. Jeans might be harder to squeeze into than leggings, but Shannon liked the feel and appearance. They also provided a sense of stability which was appreciated given she had to stuff her fat butt and bottom of her gut into them.
Shannon maneuvered her belt through the loops of her jeans with slightly pudgy fingers. The digits were quite nimble despite their owner's stature. She managed the task smoothly, even when she had to reach an arm behind her. The belt might be only for show, but Shannon liked the look enough to perform the morning ritual. Once fastened, she wadded in front of a standing mirror.
For obvious reasons, it was twice as wide as the average standing mirror. Shannon looked over herself, the sleep now fully removed from her eyes. Here, she made any minor adjustments that needed to be done. She combed through short, auburn-colored hair. The left side was trimmed shorter, while the right flowed to the nape of her neck. It was close to a stereotypical mom cut, but Shannon liked it.
Shannon’s skin was gently tanned but still close to pink. Her face was marked with the appropriate amount of age, namely consistent under-eye wrinkles. Shannon claimed they brought attention to her striking emerald-colored eyes.
“I’ve still got it.” Shannon grinned as she momentarily admired her appearance. After another few seconds, she stepped back to check her outfit. Shannon had been fat long enough to know being stereotyped was a pain in the ass. That was why she always ensured her clothing was on point. Her standard short-sleeved shirt was a nice attention-grabbing red. On it were three semi-opaque white stars of varying size. The smallest rested on her right shoulder, the middle was over the left side of her chest, and the largest rested above her right hip. The shirt had a lot to stretch over, but it did so well. Shannon’s shoulders were broader than the average woman her height, but this was due to a modest coating of fat. The sleeves of her shirt gently squeezed her upper arm fat but remained comfortable. It would be hard to find sleeves that didn’t feel a little snug on her arms. Her bingo wings weren’t pillow-sized like some of her old friends were, but she had sizable deposits of flabby fat that loved to jiggle whenever she moved her arms.
Shannon didn’t think her chest looked big compared to the rest of her. Put her beside a skinny person and it was easy to see she was stacked. Her bust rivaled the size of her head, but she still didn’t see it as extraordinary. That was because she always had her gut to compare them with. Round in the middle and rolling at the side, Shannon had a sizable belly. It provided partial support to her chest and left her with plenty to squeeze. At her sides were meaty love handles with a smaller set of rolls above them. The lower portion had a faint wave in the front, which was accented when stuffed into her jeans.
Shannon turned back and forth, observing how her hips nearly took up the entire width of the mirror. She ran her hand across one and tentatively squeezed. Shannon was widest at her hips, and they had a smooth curve that led into her upper thighs. She turned a little further and glanced at her butt. It was hard not to smirk. Shannon was proud of what she boasted. They might not be bubbly, but she had a primo pair of blubbery butt cheeks that looked fantastic in her pants. With the package deal of her hips and thighs, she had turned plenty of heads with her lower body along. Speaking of thighs, Shannon’s pressed together. It was obvious. Just one of her legs was thicker than the average so and so’s waist. Even her knees were broad and soft. Beneath them were meaty calves and well-padded shins.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough ogling yourself, Shannon.” The woman murmured to herself before she stretched her arms above her head. She groaned with the stretch and felt her shirt ride up her belly. Once finished, she made her way toward the kitchen.
The edges of her bedroom door brushed the sides of her hips, making her pause. Just for the sake of it, she leaned left and then right. The sensation wasn’t simply her hips being squished. Her mind recalled plenty of times she got stuck in doors. It was first a surprise that felt like an incredible achievement. A sign that she got way fatter than anyone would typically become. For years, it was an exciting and sometimes sexy thing. Yet it eventually proved annoying at times. When her hands were full, when she was in a rush, or when she was tired after a long day. Honestly, she felt it would be a 50/50 situation if it happened to her nowadays.
Shannon loved her body and its heft, but she had undoubtedly grown out of the honeymoon phase about being fat. There was no way in hell she would lose the weight, but she didn’t have the drive to pack on more pounds or go for bigger sizes. She was just gonna live her life as usual. That started with breakfast.
