Chapter Three

After 10 pm the party moved into phase two. The make-over stage had been completed and the company shills departed, along with some of the guests. Doncaster’s remaining “glitterati” moved into full-on party mode. The mass of alcohol provided was being assaulted with force and the vast assortment of desserts were being demolished. The chocolate gateau had long since disappeared between the glossy lips of Tracey, Davina and Lucy and they had now re-joined the main party.

Wobbling atop her heels, Tracey was struggling to cope with effect the champagne was having on her brain. The room was spinning ever so slightly and both arms were splayed out just for balance. She’d already bumped into one guest and was in search of another glass.

“Hey Kath!” she shouted, “ya having fun?”

“Yeah” returned Kath.

She actually was having fun, but at a level all her own. The conversation was far from intellectual and if she heard another boastful story about the size of somebody’s house, how well another wonder child was doing or the latest exotic holiday she was going to scream. But everybody had been friendly and the eye candy was amazing.

All Tracey’s girlfriends were indeed hot and a good number sported plump, sexy bods. Everywhere she looked there was a curvy, high-maintenance lady squeezed into the latest fashion. The accepted approach to fashion very much seemed to be shoehorning an overly padded figure into the smallest size possible. This was a look Kath was greatly appreciating.

“I definitely want an invite to the next one.”

“Awesome!” gushed Tracey. “We all love having you here too!”

She took hold of Kath’s gym-toned arm, partly to whisper and partly just to keep balance.

“So who do you think’s the hottest?” she giggled softly in a breathless voice. Tracey was aware of Kath’s orientation.

Kath had enjoyed a few glasses of champagne herself, so with her tongue loosened, she reached down and patted her blonde friend’s chocolate gateau and champagne stuffed belly and said, “You of course.”

That comment brought with it the anticipated crystal white, beaming smile.

“Aw that’s so sweet!!” gushed Tracey before wrapping her arms round Kath and planting a kiss on her lips. “But you know ya can’t have me cos I’m married...so who else?”

Kath paused and glanced round the room. She still had Tracey’s soft blonde bombshell body squeezed against her and the scent of her sugary perfume filled her nostrils.

“Nikki’s pretty hot...”

“Yeah Nikki is soooo stunning, but Kath sweetie, she’s married too and she really loves Jim...”

“...most of your mates are married...”

Tracey tried to focus and rested her eyes on her longtime friend Davina. Her blonde brain slowly whirled into action and she started to connect some dots. She loved playing matchmaker and this could be a fit...for a night at least.

“What about Davina?”

“Davina! Our marketing manager...”

“Yeah” whispered Tracey, “she’s split up and all alone on a night.”

“But she’s straight.”

Tracey shrugged. There was no clear distinction in her mind. Sex was sex and it was all good for Tracey Harrison. And she knew a secret about Davina.

“Yeah but I’ve kissed Davina loads.”

Kath blinked -- Tracey never failed to surprise her. That was quite a vision those two glamour queens locked together. Quite a vision.

“You mean proper snogging kissing?”

Tracey laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, like on nights out in Donny or Leeds if guys see us snogging they kind of just leave us alone and it’s hardly cheating or anything,” puzzled Tracey, “but I kinda think Davina enjoys it too.”

“Wow!”

The two stood in silence for a moment before Tracey slurred.

“Kath babes...”

“What?”

“Can you hold my hand cos I want some more champers and cheesecake and I think I’m kinda...ummm... gonna...wwweelllll... I’m drunk and stuff...”

“Sure, come on.”

Kath took blondie’s hand and led her slowly across the room. No doubt Tracey was very drunk and her bombastic hips slammed into Kath more than once. Without the support she would no doubt have walked straight into the other guests or toppled over.

“Then let’s go find Davina,” giggled blondie as she lurched left and then right. “You can stop over in my spare room...”

“Be careful, Trace.”

“Davina’s stopped over loads,” pouted Tracey. “I’ve got two spare rooms cos this is such a big house cos me and Steve makes plenty of money,” the drunken babe boasted. “We can just tell Steve that you stopped over in the other spare room and stuff.”

Kath pulled her blonde friend in close.

“Trace, what will he think...?”

“He’ll just think you stopped over cos you drank too much to drive,” she laughed, “but we are sooo rich now...”

“Stop boasting for a minute,” groaned Kath. “Let’s get going on your Davina plan.”

“Cool!”

So Kath gulped as she walked across the room. It was a frightening prospect what lay ahead. Tracey was her boss at work. Davina Barker was a senior manager where they worked and Steve Harrison was an executive director where they worked. Add into the mix she was going to try to bed one at the other two’s house and Kath was in potentially hot water.

But she was tipsy and not in best control of her judgment faculties herself. Then her eyes rested on the luscious Davina and she decided it was worth the risk...

“Hey Davina,” yelled Tracey, “pour us some champers and come over here...”

“Coming right up, huni...”

With glasses in their hands Tracey and Kath gulped down champagne. The blonde drank because she was drunk and enjoying the effects whilst Kath needed some Dutch courage. Nothing, however, would prepare her for the drunken Tracey’s next comment.

“Davina babes,” she slurred. “Did you know Kath’s a lesbo...?”

The “lesbo” in question dug an elbow into blondie’s soft side and glared. She didn’t appreciate the turn of phrase and was hoping for a little more subtlety. Davina laughed and smiled. Oblivious, Tracey continued.

“...cos Davina’s bi and stuff and ...”

“Shut up, Tracey,” snapped Kath, her face reddening.

What Davina Barker said next shocked Kath.

“Don’t blush, Kath,” she purred. “You know you’re pretty hot...”

Kath gulped and swallowed the rest of her champagne. Davina had just called her hot. The glamorous, haughty manager from work had just called her hot!

“Could this possibly be happening...?”

Davina stepped forward and ran a French manicured finger round Kath’s taut, kickboxing-toned middle and said:

“Like I told you before, you’ve got the kind of tum me and Trace lost a while back.” Davina sighed. “So I don’t suppose you’re bothered about a little chubster like me.”

The stunned Kath couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Davina Barker was not only giving her the green light but the babe had it in her head that Kath wasn’t interested. Maybe Tracey wasn’t as insanely snookered as she’d seemed. “Oh how far from the truth you are my dear...”

Tracey's Party

Nervously Kath ran her own finger round Davina’s bulging paunch. She wasn’t quite Tracey scale but it was plump, sexy and stuffed with a night of overindulgence. Kath squeezed gently and carefully. She wanted to make sure Davina understood she liked her excess flab. “Actually I think you’re very sexy”

Davina smiled. After all she’d been told in the past month it was nice to enjoy some flattery for once.

“My husband told me I was getting fat before he left,” she sighed. “And Andrew Parker said...”

The distraught diva couldn’t finish that sentence. What Andrew Parker had said really did hurt. In fact Davina had cried herself to sleep more than once over his comments.

Tracey jumped in at that.

“We all hate Andrew Parker now,” she said with authority. “And Kath fancies ya loads...almost as much as she fancies me...”

“Tracey!” Kath said with a jolt.

“It’s so totally true,” prattled drunken blondie. “I can see you checking me out at work and stuff...it’s sooo funny and even our office junior kind of knows you fancy me...but then everybody at work does...”

Davina reached out and took hold of her best mate’s plump shoulders. She’d done her matchmaking move and now it was time to move her on before she screwed something up. Davina wanted to get to know Kath and she wanted Tracey out of harm’s way. Pointing across the room she said:

“Tracey, I think Lucy wants to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” continued Davina. “Something about how wonderful the décor here is and if you could put her through to the designer.”

“She thinks you’ve got amazing taste” chipped in Kath, picking up on Davina’s lead.

“I suppose I do have amazing taste,” mused Tracey before wobbling her way across the living room towards Lucy Richards. That left Kath and Davina together.

Lucy Richards, meanwhile, was standing alone by the fireplace working through glass after glass of white wine. She was standing alone because over the past few years she’d succeeded in offending or insulting most of the women in the room. As a town of 300,000, Doncaster’s upper crust was a relatively small community and Lucy had certainly abused her position at the top of it.

“Jealous cows...” she snarled to herself before downing another glass.

With contempt she looked round the room at all her former friends turning to fat. All lived soft, affluent lifestyles and as they moved into their mid to late thirties were getting fat. They all had husbands, kids and jobs. The room was full of chubby faces, soft bellies, fat butts and soft thighs. But they were all smiling and laughing. Desperately Lucy wanted to join in the conversations just like she used to before she married into serious money. She had enjoyed her share of the gateau cake and part of her just wanted to be “one of the girls” again.

Her morbid internal monologue was broken by a familiar voice.

“Lucy!” shouted Tracey as she grabbed hold of the fireplace for support. “How come you’re standing on your own?”

“Just wanted to be quiet.”

“Davina told me you love my décor,” beamed Tracey.

The trophy wife struggled on a response. Whilst a five-bedroom detached house in the middle of a “Lego land” housing estate may have been a big deal for Tracey, it wasn’t even a blip on the radar of a lady used to Templeton Towers. The décor looked cheap and far from the classic lines of the nobility heritage manse she enjoyed with Sir Fred. But Lucy was desperate for somebody to talk too so she said:

“Yeah, it’s so...um...so...perfectly you.”

“Aw thanks.”

The tall raven-haired beauty and the short tubby blonde stood in silence for a moment. Both were very drunk and struggling to think coherently. The world was spinning for both Tracey Harrison and Lucy Richards. Eventually, Tracey wobbled on her heels and took hold of Lucy’s arm for support.

“Careful,” gasped Lucy. “Or we’ll both fall over.”

“I’m sooo wasted,” giggled Tracey.

“Me too...and...um...I’m like totally stuffed after that cake.”

At that comment Tracey glanced at Lucy’s middle. It was toned and slender yet clearly stuffed with food and drink. Not fat but cram packed full. She giggled.

“You’ll get fat now too, Lucy.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed as she checked out Tracey’s bloated middle. It was a big mound of soft jello that pushed out against her dress and Lucy could clearly make out the outline of her belly button.

“Yeah, Trace...how much weight have you put on?”

Tracey's Party

Tracey leaned back and rested her porky haunches against the fireplace. She glanced at Lucy’s face -- nothing about her said she was being cruel. Just asking. It was a fair question; Tracey had blown up over the years. What’s more Tracey was drunk so her weight was less of a taboo subject.

“Loads...”

“And Steve’s happy with it?” queried Lucy.

“Yep.”

“He never asks you to diet or anything?”

Tracey thought for a moment before re-filling her glass. Truth was her husband flattered her at every opportunity.

“Nah, Steve loves my look and he just bought me that Range Rover,” she slurred. “And from the way he is in bed, I know he means it!”

“Oh, so the sex is good?”

“Awesome.”

Lucy mulled over that. Steve Harrison was quite a catch. He was good looking, charming and made very good money. What’s more he was clearly happy with Tracey even after she’d gained weight. Clearly he looked after her well, bought her things and even took her boys out camping. No doubt he really did love his chubby blonde wife.

What’s more the sexual part of Lucy’s relationship with Sir Fred was drying up. He complained about being tired after work and just went to sleep without even touching her. Meanwhile, a very plump Tracey was clearly enjoying an active sex life and she’d noticed her husband eying more than one well-upholstered babe. The turnstile incident of a few months before, plus the clerk at the airport shortly afterwards, were still fresh in mind.

“So Trace,” slurred Lucy, “you’re...mmm...um...saying the sex is good even...errr...cos you’re fat?”

Tracey just wobbled on her heels. The sex was very good and she adored her husband. In fact she even missed him being away one night. Then she computed the fat comment.

“I’mmmmmm nnnottt fat!” pouted Tracey.

“Okay...the sex is awesome and you’re...soooo....um...curvy.”

Tracey laughed.

“Yeah, I’m curvy and the sex is great.”

Satisfied, Lucy nodded. Somewhere in her brain Lucy thought, “Ah-hah -- now I get it.”

She whispered in blondie’s ear. “I’m sooooo totally sorrrry for....you know...being a bitch to you...”

“Aw thanks, Lucy,” beamed Tracey. “Noowwwww let’s get some more cheesecake.”

“Yay,” laughed Lucy. “I’m gonna get fat like you.”

“Curvy!!!”

“Sorry, Trace...curvy!!”

With that the two moved as fast as they could across the room. Before long they were both enjoying a generous slice of blueberry cheesecake and giggling together like two school girls. The conversation itself made no sense but both were happy to be friends again.

By 1 am the guests had left and Tracey padded slowly and deliberately across the living room. Lucy was still sprawled across the sofa with a now empty wine glass at her side. The remains of the blueberry cheesecake lay on her plate. The trophy wife had her hands cupping a stuffed full little belly and was moaning softly.

“Oooo...Trace....I think I’m gonna explode.”

Tracey just grunted and belched loudly in response. Her own hands were steadying a stuffed full paunch as she wobbled along. The blonde babe was so full of chocolate gateau, cheesecake and fizzy champagne that her belly ached painfully. With an effort Tracey turned and fell down onto the celadon green sofa next to Lucy. Her full to bursting belly sloshed down and she gasped for air.

“Myyyy tummy hurts...” she moaned.

“Ooooo...”

“Like how much did we eat?”

“Waaaaay too much.”

The two lounged in silence. Eventually Tracey’s big brown eyes closed and she drifted off into sleep. Lucy inspected the chubby blonde MILF one final time before closing her own eyes. Within minutes both babes were snoring softly, their arms wrapped round each other and snuggled up close. The two stuffed bellies gurgled and rumbled through the night as an evening of pure overindulgence settled onto their bodies.

Tracey’s Party: Chapter Four

Hot Chicks

"Tracey’s Party" text and characters are the property of Samster. Originally published at Dimensions and edited by Observer. Reprinted with permission. Illustrations are the property of Samster and Lard Biscuit Enterprises.