"Hey, Mom!" Rosaline practically sang into her phone.
"Who is this?" A gentle voice floated back. It managed to sound like a melody despite the distant crackles. "Mom? I'm not a mother. I haven't been for years."
Rosaline beamed, tears already beginning to blur her vision. "You're a liar."
"Oh... wait. There's just the faintest memory... Josie? Little Josie?"
"No, no, no, hon, you've got it all wrong. That's our son Schmozaline," another voice joined in.
Rosaline laughed. "Hi Dad!"
As usual, her father broke first. "Oh, Rose! Hello! We miss you!"
"Your father never lets me have any fun. How's school, sweetie? We've been missing you constantly."
Rosaline sniffled. She could hardly believe it. After a month, an entire MONTH of maintaining the no-contact rule, she was finally hearing her family's voice. "School is good! It's hard, but... good."
Rosaline reclined backward, anxiously waiting for a reply. She was sat outside a coffee shop, situated right outside Darrington Library. The quaint little place sat right on the top of a massive hill that rose hundreds of feet in the air, giving her a bird's eye view of the campus below. From here, she could see it all -- dorms, lecture halls, students like ants running to and fro, all dwarfed by the massive eyesore that was the bell to the south. It was all a mite overwhelming, yet Rosaline found herself oddly soothed by the hustle and bustle of it all so far down below.
Before she knew it, Rosaline was gushing about the shape her life had taken at Garrison University. She told her parents about how scared she had been on her first day, and how she had been terrified of every person's eyes. She told them of Grace and her comforting effect, and how the two had become fast friends. She told them of her classes, her schedule, and the transition from bombastic and new to mundane and expected her campus life had taken. She hadn't noticed until the words left her mouth, but she was beginning to settle into her new life. Her cheeks hurt from smiling at the thought.
"Grace sounds like a treat to be around," her father applauded.
"Hold on to that one, Rosie!" Her mother agreed. "I don't suppose we have any boys to worry about?"
Rosaline felt a little drop in her stomach and shot an anxious glance around the pavilion. She shifted a little in her seat, and once again thanked her lucky stars the best coffee shop on campus had seating without armrests. "Actually... there might be. Still a maybe, but... I really like him," she confessed, reeling a touch from her mother's excited squeals on the other end of the line. "I'm supposed to be meeting him in a second, actually..." her voice lowered, as if this was a fact to be concealed.
"Oh, well, if you're meeting him don't let us keep you, Rose. Can't wait to hear more about him!" her father exclaimed. Was that... a crack in his voice? She could barely hear it through her mother's excited hollering in the background.
"You will!" she beamed. "I'll call you guys later. I love you!"
"We love you too, hon. Take care!"
And just like that, with a muted click from the other end of the line, she was alone again. She halfway expected to feel a pang of longing return in her chest but was surprised to feel... excitement. She was alone -- but not nearly as alone as she'd been just a week or two prior. Something had shifted inside her. She was examining this feeling, curiously experiencing it, when she began to feel whispers coming from behind her.
She tensed. Rosaline rested her elbows on the table before her and took a little sip of her coffee. All too soon she was yet again keenly aware of the fact that her gigantic buttcheeks, ever determined to defy containment, dangled off her chair to the left and right. She must look ridiculous from behind, she realized. Turning her head over her shoulder as subtly as possible, she just barely caught a glimpse of movement from a group of boys about her age. They had been walking behind her, and a few had quickly turned their necks up, down, to one another as she had peeked at them -- averting their gazes. They whispered inaudibly to one another with displays of comradery, clapping shoulders, silent laughter, eyes making dangerous peeks at Rosaline's titanic ass that looked to be capable of swallowing the chair underneath her. She was intensely aware of their eyes and the chair, both of them digging into her assflesh with exploratory curiosity. She forced herself to turn forward again. Watching them would do no good -- they would ogle her anyhow, and she had learned to expect the stares. That was a part of her curse, after all -- one could only do so much to hide a posterior large enough to swallow a man like Titus.
Titus. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of him, the memory of him being drawn into her, engulfed by her humiliating lower half. Humming to herself to drown out her spectators, she opened up her phone and clicked on his name as it had been saved -- Ty, with a little smiley face next to it. She opened their messages and read them to herself, feeling a gentle flame of anticipation rise up within her.
"Hey, Ty! I know we've spent the past few nights together, but... would you want to meet me for another date after work?
"Heya boat girl. I'd love to -- where/when?"
"I'll meet you at the coffee shop at the top of the student center?"
"Be there. I'll make my way down when I get my break at 4. ;)" The wink caught her off guard. It was incredible how such a simple thing made her heart flutter.
"See you then, handsome." She cringed. Grace had begged her not to send that one, and she hadn't listened. Now she was thinking that perhaps her best friend had been right about it being "a little too much." Rosaline tossed aside the thought and looked at the time. 4:04... he'd be here any minute! She fought the urge to squeal. She had not stayed a single night in her dorm since the night she and Titus had met, a fact Grace had reminded her of constantly. Four days of classes, hanging out with Grace, Elle, Kara, and Frannie, and meeting Titus after work -- Four days of drinking, sloppy kisses, and feeling him inside her. The two had spent the nights talking at the bar and waiting until it was empty, and every night they had returned to that little break room... with some difficulty. Little had changed - Rosaline's colossal ass was still far too wide to enter the room, even if she turned sideways and waddled through like a crab -- her cheeks would simply become wedged with utterly no hope of escape. Even if she wanted him then and there, as soon as possible, she was forced to rely on him to force her mass through. Some days had been harder than others as she had stood there, forced to admire the feeling of his rough hands on her expanse, so tantalizingly close to the futon where he would have her yet incapable of moving forward an inch without his aid -- tossing sweet temptations over her shoulder as her legs struggled to pull her through. Every night she needed him to free her -- and every morning she again required his help to escape. Her face grew hot. Visualizing it now left her mortified, humiliated, cursing herself for allowing herself to be seen in such a position -- but every night, without fail, her inhibitions had been shed and she had again found herself trapped and cooing at his touch.
