Epilogue: Thicker Thighs

156 pounds.

The reporter had stared at the scale and a cold wave seemed to go through her. She knew her clothes had been tight lately, and she had been staying away from the tighter clothes and her bras had been tight, but she had gained thirty pounds in the last eight weeks. It was the kind of scare that sent her into a torrent of self-recrimination, anger, shame...and, as she devoured a soft pretzel and finished her third beer of the day, comfort food.

The next few weeks, the reporter resolved to do better. She wore sweats and hit the gym, every day. Weight training on Tuesdays and Thursdays, running on Monday and Wednesday, yoga on Friday. To her surprise, Angelica was right there by her side. When Lois went to lift weights, Blaze would spot her. On a run, the dickgirl would easily keep place, loping along as if holding back as Lois sweated, thicker thighs pumping to shift her bigger ass.

Yoga class was the worst, though. Angie in those tight elastic clothes showed the same svelte, lean body that she had when Lois had first met her. While Lois herself...

Lois huffed as she bent down. She still wasn't fat-fat. But her beer belly had was pushing out. There were the soft beginnings of love handles. Her bras were tight, her breasts starting to muffin-top a little. The reporter knew she needed to get new bras, but that would mean admitting she was becoming a fatass.

Yet most of the weight had gone to the reporter's thighs. Once, Lois had a thigh gap, but now she could feel the heavier, padded thighs rub against each other. At work when she wore skirts, or in bed beneath the covers. She found she was often warm these days, and slept in less clothes than she used to. All that fat made a good insulator, she guessed.

"You did good today," Angie said when they were back at the apartment. The dickgirl hadn't been in there two seconds before she'd fetched a couple of beers from the fridge. Lois frowned, knowing that dinner would consist of a droopy salad. She had to cut calories...but her hand closed around the stubby neck and she gratefully tilted her head back, sucking the brew down.

"You know," Angie said after taking a pull at her own beer. "Maybe you should do some more squats. You could have a perfect bubble butt."

"I'm still trying to get my weight under control," Lois said, setting the empty bottle down and reaching for another one. Normally she didn't pound them this fast, but they were home for the evening, and one just wasn't enough. "Have you seen my thighs lately?"

"You do look a bit...thicc," Blaze said, and Lois could hear the extra "c." The reporter shook her head, knowing that the dickgirl was already angling towards a cooldown fuck. Not that Lois minded, but she swore sometimes Angie had such a one-track mind. "Have you ever thought maybe some of the weight is muscle?"

Lois scowled at her...girlfriend. That gave her pause. They never really talked about their relationship. Friends with benefits, drinking buddies, workout buddies...

Angie came over and lifted the reporter's shirt up over her head. Lois let her, if only because she could feel the heat begin to build between her legs. Sometimes when she thought of how much weight she'd gained, she was glad that at least someone still found her attractive.

The dickgirl's hands grabbed onto the roll of the reporter's stomach. Sank into the pale flesh. Lois could see the cock stretching the front of her workout clothes.

"I'm serious! You don't have to go back to being a twig. Maybe you could try those protein shakes, focus on strength training. I'll bet you could crack walnuts with those thighs before next Halloween."

Lois scowled...but Blaze wasn't stopping. She was pulling the reporter's pants down, rubbing her hard-on against the reporter's soft belly. The reporter gave a little urp and set her second beer down, another dead soldier. Pleasantly buzzed, she noticed that Angie had left her first, unfinished beer within reach, and reached out to snag it.

Then Angie was in the chair, and her cock was out. Lois felt herself guided down onto the familiar prick, chugging the brew as she sank her fat pussy onto the shaft. The dickgirl's hands were all over her, sinking into the reporter's soft body, and Lois was so hot...gasping for breath and letting out a rude urrrrp as the fizzy beer filled her empty stomach. Her hands grasped for the bag of chips in the center of the table, all thoughts of salad forgotten as she bounced up and down, her thick thighs burning. She imagined herself doing squats on Angie's dick, and the reporter was suddenly light-headed and buzzed and happy...

Later, the half-conscious reporter would be lifted with inhuman ease in Blaze's arms and carried to bed. Where the demon could run her hands over the unresisting form. Dark crackles of black electricity played at the demon's eyes as protein powder, energy drinks, and eclectic beers of the world slid their way in alongside the diet bars and fresh fruits and vegetables. Her hand rubbed over the soft little dome of a belly...and down to the plump vulva...and finally she ran her hands up and down those thick thighs, admiring the muscle beneath, and the black spunk dripping from the slit. It was so tempting to just reach in and pull out that little device that kept Lois from getting pregnant...

"Not yet," she whispered to herself. Unlike Lois, Blaze still had some self-control. She wanted to stretch this game out a little while longer...and maybe see how big she could get her lover.