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Description
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS WEIGHT GAIN, FAT GIRLS, YURI, AND FOUL LANGUAGE. IF ANY OF THESE ASPECTS DO NOT APPEAL TO YOU, STFU AND GTFO. HAVE A NICE DAY.

The Swimmer
By Apelord

*********************************************************************************

Why am I doing this?

Is this supposed to impress her?

I'm just gonna get myself killed.

This is stupid.

So why do I keep climbing?

I guess I should explain a little bit, before I go too far. Hi, my name is Stephanie Ingram. I'm 23 years old, and I'm a lesbian. Yeah, I came out quickly, didn't I? I could go deeper into all the inner turmoil I experienced when I first found out, but I have other things going on right now and I don't want to waste time with the details; I may not have much time left.

Instead, I'll start with when I first moved here. Graduated from college, went apartment hunting, found one - along with a roommate - got a job…blah, blah, blah. Not very interesting. I got pretty bored with it all, so I went looking for a good recreational activity to occupy my time.

Luckily, there was a public pool pretty close to the apartment, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to start going there when I wasn't working. I was never a big swimmer growing up, but it's mostly just something to do, right?

Well, it turned out to be more than that.

The very first time I came here, I saw the most beautiful young woman I think I have ever seen.

From the neck up, she was angelic: round, pinch-able cheeks; beautiful wide, green eyes; a cute button nose; shoulder-length brunette hair, bundled up in soft curls - oh, how I love curly hair; it's a shame it always gets matted down in the water. There always seemed to be one corkscrewed strand of hair draped on the right side of her face, dangling against her tanned skin.  It's the most perfect little detail framing the most perfect face.

But below the neck…I guess now would be a good time to share the fact that I prefer larger women. Otherwise, it would've been a little strange when I started describing her beautiful pear shape in such vivid, almost stalker-like detail. It all started at her huge breasts: two round, jostling bulbs of bouncy adipose that poured out of her swimsuit - which was, tragically, a one-piece. I say "tragically" because I would love to see her massive double belly unheeded by the thin blue fabric that wrapped around her fat like sausage casing.

Truthfully, though, as fun as it was to ogle at these bloated traits, it was below the waist where the party started. Below the lower lip of her belly's overhang shot out some of the juiciest hips my eyes have ever beheld, sporting enormous love handles that seemed nearly impossible to refrain from grabbing. Her ass - oh, dat ass - undulated sensually to and fro, each mountainous cheek scrumptiously knocking against the other as she strutted up and down the side of the pool. Much like her breasts, they would often peek through the bottom of her swimsuit, causing her to adjust her skin-tight one-sy constantly to cover up her round posterior. And past those flabby cheeks rested her massively thick thighs, smooth in almost every detail. All in all, she was a tantalizing display for the eyes.

I was always sure to try to keep her in my line of sight as I enjoyed my time in and by the pool; honestly to the point of it being a bit creepy. But it was hard to resist watching her: the way she rippled just as violently as the water through which she so furiously swam, the way she gorged herself in the food court when she finished swimming, the way her numerous curves and folds shone in the sunlight as she rested in one of the many pool chairs. I started coming to the pool much more frequently, and not just to become a better swimmer.

Okay, I guess you've got the picture: I have a crush on a fat swimmer girl. So we can skip forward to the present, right? It's been about three months since I first came here - and she's only gotten that much bigger.

Now, I have yet to actually even talk to her; something about being in such a public area always proved to intimidate me. But at the same time, I knew I had to get her attention one way or another.

I was pondering just how to do such a thing one day…when I looked up toward the tallest diving board…

Immediately, the rational part of my brain shot down the idea as ridiculous and overly dangerous. But it grew on me…And that's where I am now: climbing up an insanely tall ladder, in the hopes of swan diving into a pool, - oh say…5,000 feet beneath me - all with the goal of impressing the young, obese woman into, perhaps, going out with me…Good God, this sounds like the kind of idiotic thing a guy would do in one of those romance movies...

Anyway, I hope you got all that, because I just reached the very last rung and I'm now stepping on to the board itself, staring down into a very small blue box I'm supposed to be diving headfirst into. I can feel the incriminating gaze of the pool dwellers; hopefully one such pair of eyes belongs to the girl, and hopefully she doesn't think I'm an idiot.

So I'm staring down into the blue so far below me, knowing full well that the longer I stay up here the more likely it is I look like a fool. I just have to remember that no matter what I do, I have to make it look smooth, like the professionals on TV.

It's diving. How hard can it be?

So I run forward, take a small jump near the edge, and bound off the board.

Alright, so spread your arms first; don't look down yet…Good, now lean forward and clasp your hands over your head; make sure it looks smooth…Tilt forward a little more, just until you're facing straight down…a little more…a little more…

SHIT, TOO FAR!!

OH GOD, OH GOD!!

Quick! Maybe if I keep leaning forward I can pass this off as a flip! C'mon, before I land on my ba-

SMACK!

Alright, so that didn't work out too well. Instead of a swan dive, it was more like an "upside-down turtle dive." Not only that, but I also flailed my arms in a panic just before my back hit the water. I would not say I looked anything like the people on TV, except maybe the guys on America's Funniest Hove Videos…Oh God, I hope no one was video taping it…

Anyway, I blacked out at the moment of impact. Sank straight to the bottom. It sounds pretty awful, honestly, but don't get ahead of me.

When I came to, on my back, I could feel a pretty intense weight pressing down on my chest. I opened my eyes and, after my blurry vision cleared, looked down to where the pressure was coming from; the sight that met my eyes almost made me pass out again.

It was the girl (yeah, the fat one) on her knees, leaning over me with a look of concern on her face, her hands buried deep in my sternum; right between my breasts actually, which would've made me blush except I'm pretty sure I was going through cardiac arrest at the time.

She was biting her bottom lip in concentration as she diligently performed CPR, and after four or five quick - yet harsh - exerts into my chest, she leaned in close to my face, ready for mouth-to-mouth.

I realized then that it was a mistake to regain consciousness when I did, and an even bigger mistake to keep my eyes open. She saw that I was awake, smiled reassuringly, and retracted her plump, juicy lips from mine. I wanted to just crane my neck up and envelop her tongue in my own, but I did not (and could not).

"Oh, thank God you're awake!" she breathed. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," is what I wanted to say.

Instead, what came out was a mixture of pool water and my own fluids as I coughed out the liquid that was just jettisoned out of my lungs by the hefty girl's arm thrusts…right at her. An intense aftertaste of chlorine remained on my tongue and burned the back of my throat, but it was second in my mind to the embarrassment of being in such a less-than-flattering situation with the object of my infatuation.

Luckily (I guess you could say that), most of the water just dribbled down my chin, with only little droplets actually hitting her.

Somehow though, she barely seemed to take notice to the fact that she was more-or-less just vomited on; she retained her warm smile and continued to wait for me to answer her question.

I coughed a couple more times, thankfully without spewing out pool water, and then nodded weakly. "Ye - *hack* - yeah I'm fine," I managed to sputter out dryly.

"You sure?" she asked again, putting a chubby hand on my shoulder.

I sat up, using my shaky arms to support myself. At that point, I noticed that the concerned pool-goers who had gathered around me realized I was alive and lost interest. They slowly meandered away, leaving me alone with the chubby vixen.

After the final few feeble coughs trickled out of my mouth, I caught my breath and said, "Yeah, I'm sure."

The girl nodded happily. "That's good. I'm glad I got to you in time."

My eyes widened for a moment. "You got me? What about the lifeguard?"

"He was at the other end of the pool. I was right next to where you…uh…'dove.'" She put the word "dove" in air-quotes and giggled, letting me know that she knew just how badly I had failed. The blood returned to my face, painting my cheeks with a slight rosy hue. "I figured it would've been easier for me to jump in after you."

This new information took me by surprise. "You…you saved me?"

The girl blushed and looked away humbly. "It was nothing," she insisted.

"No, but I mean…You actually saved my life…"

Again, she tried to wave it off. "I don't think you would've actually died…Someone would've gotten you."

"I have to make this up to you." Before she had a chance to even shake her head, I blurted out, "Let me buy you dinner or something."

It came out before I had a chance to think about it. I just made myself completely vulnerable to the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, without even introducing myself. Her only past experience with me at this point was watching me back-flop into a pool from 50 feet in the air, saving me from the deep end of the pool, and being spit up on after bringing me back from the brink of death. How is this a good basis to set up a dinner-date on?

But as I waited to get shot down, I saw the girl smirk and say, "Well alright, if you insist."

I spat up just a bit more pool water at that point. Did she just agree to go on a date with me? I realize now that I was putting too much meaning into it; she just probably thought of it as an overzealous gesture of gratitude, with the added bonus of a meal. But at the time, I felt like she had just asked me to make out with her.

I was snapped out of the pleasant vision as she asked me, "Are you okay to stand?"

She stood up and offered me her plump hand and I nodded weakly, grabbing it just as she gently hoisted my lithe body up on shaky legs. I straightened my back to draw myself to full height (which was just taller than her) and smiled gratefully at her.

"Thank you," I said, relishing the feeling of her soft fingers intertwined in my own.

She smiled back and nodded. "My name's Abby, by the way," she said, shaking my hand. "Abby Garner." I gave her my name, returning her handshake.

Suddenly, looking rather antsy, she glanced over her shoulder at the Food Court. She looked back at me with a flustered look and asked, "Since you're good to walk, do you think you're good to eat?" Her stomach rumbled as she spoke, and one of her chubby hands floated up toward her midriff to try to conceal the noise. "I'm in the mood for some chicken wings."

I could only nod eagerly.

Description
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS WEIGHT GAIN, FAT GIRLS, YURI, AND FOUL LANGUAGE. IF ANY OF THESE ASPECTS DO NOT APPEAL TO YOU, STFU AND GTFO. HAVE A NICE DAY.

The Swimmer
By Apelord

*********************************************************************************

Why am I doing this?

Is this supposed to impress her?

I'm just gonna get myself killed.

This is stupid.

So why do I keep climbing?

I guess I should explain a little bit, before I go too far. Hi, my name is Stephanie Ingram. I'm 23 years old, and I'm a lesbian. Yeah, I came out quickly, didn't I? I could go deeper into all the inner turmoil I experienced when I first found out, but I have other things going on right now and I don't want to waste time with the details; I may not have much time left.

Instead, I'll start with when I first moved here. Graduated from college, went apartment hunting, found one - along with a roommate - got a job…blah, blah, blah. Not very interesting. I got pretty bored with it all, so I went looking for a good recreational activity to occupy my time.

Luckily, there was a public pool pretty close to the apartment, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to start going there when I wasn't working. I was never a big swimmer growing up, but it's mostly just something to do, right?

Well, it turned out to be more than that.

The very first time I came here, I saw the most beautiful young woman I think I have ever seen.

From the neck up, she was angelic: round, pinch-able cheeks; beautiful wide, green eyes; a cute button nose; shoulder-length brunette hair, bundled up in soft curls - oh, how I love curly hair; it's a shame it always gets matted down in the water. There always seemed to be one corkscrewed strand of hair draped on the right side of her face, dangling against her tanned skin.  It's the most perfect little detail framing the most perfect face.

But below the neck…I guess now would be a good time to share the fact that I prefer larger women. Otherwise, it would've been a little strange when I started describing her beautiful pear shape in such vivid, almost stalker-like detail. It all started at her huge breasts: two round, jostling bulbs of bouncy adipose that poured out of her swimsuit - which was, tragically, a one-piece. I say "tragically" because I would love to see her massive double belly unheeded by the thin blue fabric that wrapped around her fat like sausage casing.

Truthfully, though, as fun as it was to ogle at these bloated traits, it was below the waist where the party started. Below the lower lip of her belly's overhang shot out some of the juiciest hips my eyes have ever beheld, sporting enormous love handles that seemed nearly impossible to refrain from grabbing. Her ass - oh, dat ass - undulated sensually to and fro, each mountainous cheek scrumptiously knocking against the other as she strutted up and down the side of the pool. Much like her breasts, they would often peek through the bottom of her swimsuit, causing her to adjust her skin-tight one-sy constantly to cover up her round posterior. And past those flabby cheeks rested her massively thick thighs, smooth in almost every detail. All in all, she was a tantalizing display for the eyes.

I was always sure to try to keep her in my line of sight as I enjoyed my time in and by the pool; honestly to the point of it being a bit creepy. But it was hard to resist watching her: the way she rippled just as violently as the water through which she so furiously swam, the way she gorged herself in the food court when she finished swimming, the way her numerous curves and folds shone in the sunlight as she rested in one of the many pool chairs. I started coming to the pool much more frequently, and not just to become a better swimmer.

Okay, I guess you've got the picture: I have a crush on a fat swimmer girl. So we can skip forward to the present, right? It's been about three months since I first came here - and she's only gotten that much bigger.

Now, I have yet to actually even talk to her; something about being in such a public area always proved to intimidate me. But at the same time, I knew I had to get her attention one way or another.

I was pondering just how to do such a thing one day…when I looked up toward the tallest diving board…

Immediately, the rational part of my brain shot down the idea as ridiculous and overly dangerous. But it grew on me…And that's where I am now: climbing up an insanely tall ladder, in the hopes of swan diving into a pool, - oh say…5,000 feet beneath me - all with the goal of impressing the young, obese woman into, perhaps, going out with me…Good God, this sounds like the kind of idiotic thing a guy would do in one of those romance movies...

Anyway, I hope you got all that, because I just reached the very last rung and I'm now stepping on to the board itself, staring down into a very small blue box I'm supposed to be diving headfirst into. I can feel the incriminating gaze of the pool dwellers; hopefully one such pair of eyes belongs to the girl, and hopefully she doesn't think I'm an idiot.

So I'm staring down into the blue so far below me, knowing full well that the longer I stay up here the more likely it is I look like a fool. I just have to remember that no matter what I do, I have to make it look smooth, like the professionals on TV.

It's diving. How hard can it be?

So I run forward, take a small jump near the edge, and bound off the board.

Alright, so spread your arms first; don't look down yet…Good, now lean forward and clasp your hands over your head; make sure it looks smooth…Tilt forward a little more, just until you're facing straight down…a little more…a little more…

SHIT, TOO FAR!!

OH GOD, OH GOD!!

Quick! Maybe if I keep leaning forward I can pass this off as a flip! C'mon, before I land on my ba-

SMACK!

Alright, so that didn't work out too well. Instead of a swan dive, it was more like an "upside-down turtle dive." Not only that, but I also flailed my arms in a panic just before my back hit the water. I would not say I looked anything like the people on TV, except maybe the guys on America's Funniest Hove Videos…Oh God, I hope no one was video taping it…

Anyway, I blacked out at the moment of impact. Sank straight to the bottom. It sounds pretty awful, honestly, but don't get ahead of me.

When I came to, on my back, I could feel a pretty intense weight pressing down on my chest. I opened my eyes and, after my blurry vision cleared, looked down to where the pressure was coming from; the sight that met my eyes almost made me pass out again.

It was the girl (yeah, the fat one) on her knees, leaning over me with a look of concern on her face, her hands buried deep in my sternum; right between my breasts actually, which would've made me blush except I'm pretty sure I was going through cardiac arrest at the time.

She was biting her bottom lip in concentration as she diligently performed CPR, and after four or five quick - yet harsh - exerts into my chest, she leaned in close to my face, ready for mouth-to-mouth.

I realized then that it was a mistake to regain consciousness when I did, and an even bigger mistake to keep my eyes open. She saw that I was awake, smiled reassuringly, and retracted her plump, juicy lips from mine. I wanted to just crane my neck up and envelop her tongue in my own, but I did not (and could not).

"Oh, thank God you're awake!" she breathed. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," is what I wanted to say.

Instead, what came out was a mixture of pool water and my own fluids as I coughed out the liquid that was just jettisoned out of my lungs by the hefty girl's arm thrusts…right at her. An intense aftertaste of chlorine remained on my tongue and burned the back of my throat, but it was second in my mind to the embarrassment of being in such a less-than-flattering situation with the object of my infatuation.

Luckily (I guess you could say that), most of the water just dribbled down my chin, with only little droplets actually hitting her.

Somehow though, she barely seemed to take notice to the fact that she was more-or-less just vomited on; she retained her warm smile and continued to wait for me to answer her question.

I coughed a couple more times, thankfully without spewing out pool water, and then nodded weakly. "Ye - *hack* - yeah I'm fine," I managed to sputter out dryly.

"You sure?" she asked again, putting a chubby hand on my shoulder.

I sat up, using my shaky arms to support myself. At that point, I noticed that the concerned pool-goers who had gathered around me realized I was alive and lost interest. They slowly meandered away, leaving me alone with the chubby vixen.

After the final few feeble coughs trickled out of my mouth, I caught my breath and said, "Yeah, I'm sure."

The girl nodded happily. "That's good. I'm glad I got to you in time."

My eyes widened for a moment. "You got me? What about the lifeguard?"

"He was at the other end of the pool. I was right next to where you…uh…'dove.'" She put the word "dove" in air-quotes and giggled, letting me know that she knew just how badly I had failed. The blood returned to my face, painting my cheeks with a slight rosy hue. "I figured it would've been easier for me to jump in after you."

This new information took me by surprise. "You…you saved me?"

The girl blushed and looked away humbly. "It was nothing," she insisted.

"No, but I mean…You actually saved my life…"

Again, she tried to wave it off. "I don't think you would've actually died…Someone would've gotten you."

"I have to make this up to you." Before she had a chance to even shake her head, I blurted out, "Let me buy you dinner or something."

It came out before I had a chance to think about it. I just made myself completely vulnerable to the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, without even introducing myself. Her only past experience with me at this point was watching me back-flop into a pool from 50 feet in the air, saving me from the deep end of the pool, and being spit up on after bringing me back from the brink of death. How is this a good basis to set up a dinner-date on?

But as I waited to get shot down, I saw the girl smirk and say, "Well alright, if you insist."

I spat up just a bit more pool water at that point. Did she just agree to go on a date with me? I realize now that I was putting too much meaning into it; she just probably thought of it as an overzealous gesture of gratitude, with the added bonus of a meal. But at the time, I felt like she had just asked me to make out with her.

I was snapped out of the pleasant vision as she asked me, "Are you okay to stand?"

She stood up and offered me her plump hand and I nodded weakly, grabbing it just as she gently hoisted my lithe body up on shaky legs. I straightened my back to draw myself to full height (which was just taller than her) and smiled gratefully at her.

"Thank you," I said, relishing the feeling of her soft fingers intertwined in my own.

She smiled back and nodded. "My name's Abby, by the way," she said, shaking my hand. "Abby Garner." I gave her my name, returning her handshake.

Suddenly, looking rather antsy, she glanced over her shoulder at the Food Court. She looked back at me with a flustered look and asked, "Since you're good to walk, do you think you're good to eat?" Her stomach rumbled as she spoke, and one of her chubby hands floated up toward her midriff to try to conceal the noise. "I'm in the mood for some chicken wings."

I could only nod eagerly.