Randall had always been the one cooking for his daughter these past several months, and had never given himself a proper break. Seeing the joy and satisfaction on Susan's face when she ate his meals was always enough motivation for him to not slack off in cooking them. It was also enough motivation for him to put his brief revelation about Susan's unfitness into the past and forget about it almost completely.
He deserved a break. "Hey, Susie," he said to her while he sat down in front of the much smaller, leaner breakfast he prepared for himself. "It's Friday, so how about we go to the Texas for dinner tonight?"
Susan's jaw dropped at the mention of the famous restaurant, hurriedly closing it to keep her breakfast from falling out of her full mouth. She swallowed without finishing her chewing. "For real!?" she exclaimed. She had never been there, since her late mother absolutely forbid it and and after her food revolution began her father had cooked every one of her meals. She heard the praises sang by her classmates about it and had dreamed of going since her new love of food emerged. A surprise like this was only one step below being told that Father Christmas himself was coming to bring presents to her tonight in addition to Christmas morning.
The Big Texas Ranch was a locally-owned restaurant specializing in American and Mexican-American cuisine. It was renowned for the food being as delicious as the portions were large. "Texas-sized" was the buzzword commonly used by the wait staff and the multitude of impressed customers. "American-sized" was large enough, but it's a common saying that "everything's bigger in Texas," and the owners of the establishment certainly took those words to heart.
"Can I invite Manyara?" she was quick to add. An opportunity like this needed to be shared with her best friend who had now solidly become an eating buddy.
Her father chuckled a bit at her response. He should have expected this reaction. This would be even more of a treat for her than it was for him. "Go ahead." He paused his fork in its track as an idea struck him. "Ask her if her mother wants to come too. We live so close but I haven't seen her in a year."
"Okay," Susan said, and returned to eating with newfound excitement. She wolfed down her rich breakfast in record time, all without choking. She wriggled her cushioned butt from the seat and stood up. The thick, meaty ball of her belly always expanded farther after every meal, and while she was sitting, pushed her pajama tee up so that it no longer covered any of its expanse and bunched up below the pair of slowly-growing fat bulges on her chest. Now standing, she tugged on the hem of the tee and forced it to the level of her navel. It's inflexible fabric cut into her plush flesh, but that tension held it in place, as long as it wasn't jarred with any exertion from the tubby girl.
Walking upstairs to her room was more of a chore than ever, and her top found its way back to its previous position. The strength of her muscles had no significant increase since the start of eating filling meals, and they protested when tasked to lift the new and increasing layers of fat. Her stance was forced to be wider as she stepped upon the stairs so that her thick pillow thighs wouldn't squeeze and rub together so much. Every part of her body jiggled as she landed each step, from the aforementioned thighs to her ponderous belly, love handles that could never be covered by any shirt she owned at the same time as her gut, buttocks that threatened to tear the weak pink fabric of her pajama pants, arms that looked like sausages but felt like marshmallows, thick chipmunk cheeks that already looked stuffed with treats, and even her extra chin. Although her skin and outfit was covered with a thin sheen of sweat by the time she got there, she made it to the top of the stairs without stopping once.
In her room, Susan fussed her body and its rolls out of her pajamas and dressed into her school uniform. The skirt had long ago refused to fit around her waist and barely fit around her hips. The shirt no longer tucked in neatly to the waistband and only buttoned when Susan sucked in her belly fat (as best as she could with her weak muscles) and squeezed it with her hands. It did not cover her middle completely and left covered less than half of each love handle, as well as left a triangle of pale flesh visible below the last button, as framed by the two front shirttails. Both articles were the largest size offered by the school, and Randall's new fabric softener had the rare property of stretching out most materials instead of shrinking them. It did not, however, loosen any part of the skirt except for the waistband, and anyone Susan's height or shorter would be able to see flashes of strained panties if they walked behind her lumbering form. Socks and shoes were a challenge, as they required the obese girl to squish a meaty thigh into a round doughy middle. Ordeals such as dressing herself required her to wake up significantly earlier than what used to be usual, but this did not bother Susan as she usually went straight to bed after her post-dinner snack.
She verified with a glance in the mirror that she was dressed mostly-appropriately for school. The sweat she accumulated from her trial with the stairs had evaporated from the time each inch of her skin spent nude during the extended dressing session. She wiped her face clean with a wet cloth and proceeded to walk back downstairs. Her legs were relieved that they did not have to lift her body up so far this time, and therefore she did not sweat on her descent, but she could still feel every pound and ounce wobble and jiggle just as it had before.
She gathered up her backpack, waved goodbye to her father, and walked onto the street to the waiting bus. She and Manyara had (through constant badgering) persuaded the school bus driver to stop in front of each of their houses to pick them up and drop them off, instead of the traditional method of waiting for both girls by the corner.
The door of the bus was much narrower than any in her house, and Susan could feel her hips brushing against the sides of it as she climbed the last four steps she would need to that morning. She plopped herself down in the front seat, near the window, and a minute later watched as Manyara worked and struggled to positively squeeze her enormous, skirted rear through the door and onto the bus. Unlike Susan's father, Manyara's mother had spent the money to get her daughter clothes not offered by the school catalog. They were manufactured by a different brand and therefore technically did not meet the dress code, but except for size there was very little difference. Susan could see that not all of Manyara's sweat had evaporated like hers had and glistened gently on her face when she heaved herself onto the seat next to her. Now that both of their buttocks and thighs were fully spread from the weight of their bodies pressing down on them, Susan felt squished against the wall of the bus on one side and her friend on the other, and only about half of Manyara was truly on the seat.
As soon as her friend was settled, Susan burst into speech. "Hey, my dad said you and your mom should come with us to the Texas for dinner tonight!" she exclaimed.
"I'd love to go," Manyara answered, her eyes suddenly brightening at the news. "I'm sure my mom would too. I'll tell her as soon as we get back home. Have you ever been there?"
"No," Susan answered, "but I've heard so much about it!"
Manyara's response began with a grin. "You'll love it, I'm sure. It's not much like how your dad cooks, but I still know you'll love it."
Susan tried to wiggle in her seat from excess excitement and ended up shaking Manyara's body just as much as her own.
The school day passed as usual, with the two tubby grade-schoolers doing their best to stay focused on the teacher despite their anticipation, and of course, their recurring hunger. Mr. Mantequilla had quit his job in frustration at the incompetence of not just Manyara and Susan, but the softening of the student body as a whole that took place under the substitute teacher. The school administration was doing their best to get him back, but for now the substitute was back in charge, and his laziness was beaten only by that of the two fattest girls in class.
The two girls loaded themselves back onto the bus at day's end and unloaded themselves in front of their respective houses. Susan waddled in through the door, calling out, "Hi Dad!" to announce her arrival.
"Hi Susie," he called back. He was in the kitchen, as usual, just about to start baking some sweets and treats for his ever-hungry daughter who consumed a surprising amount of them between every meal.
Susan's stomach growled with an accompanying ache the moment she set her backpack down. This was normally the time when she ate her post-school snack, which filled her up and would tide her over until dinner came. She trotted slowly over to her father. "Dad, can we go to the Texas soon?"
"Now?" he asked, confused. The clock on the wall showed that it was not even three-thirty yet. Susan opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by an even louder groan and moan from her belly. Randall heard it and made a sound that combined a giggle and a sigh. "Alright, I'll call Lou Anne and Manyara. You go get yourself ready."
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