It wasn't long before the warmth of a body high began to wash over Cheyenne's bigness—a nice, soothing tingly sensation that urged her to recline back onto the couch that she took up the lion's share of and to just relax.
Relaxing was not something that came easily to Cheyenne. Just kicking back and letting her brain go on autopilot was something that she had become rather cautious of doing. At her advanced weight, her every unconscious instinct steered her towards indulgence, something that she was very aware of. But once in a while, as a little treat, it wasn't going to hurt anybody.
She already weighed damn near four hundred pounds—what was another night laid out on Riley's couch going to do to her really?
"Atta girl." Astrid's chunky white double chin creased into a second smile as she handed Cheyenne another hunk of brownie, "You want anything to munch'a crunch on? I know you get the high hungries."
"I think'm gonna be fiiiiiiiiiiine." Cheyenne said in the most not-fine way possible, "Maybe juss some chips? I like chips."
"Girl fuckin' same." Riley chuckled thickly before—
"URAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!"
Before she absolutely shook the fucking windows with the sheer bass of her burp.
"Woof. Too much Gfuel."
In her more lucid moments, Cheyenne would admit to having a little schadenfreude about the gamer gut that Riley was sporting. Before she and Astrid had moved in together, Riley was kind of a string bean—long and lanky, with a tendency to dress down. Now she was getting good and chunky thanks to the recreational drugs and having someone else around to cook for her.
She wasn't anywhere near Cheyenne's size, of course. Few people were. But Cheye would occasionally have these little flickers of mwahaha whenever Riley engaged in a stereotypical "fat girl" activity like planting her plump rump on the couch and snacking her way through the munchies. And rattling the windows with a good old-fashioned borp was about as fat girl as you could get.
"Y'all want some pizza?"
"I could go for some pizza." Riley nodded with an exaggerated face of approval, "Cheye, you want some pizza?"
"Noooo, I'm tryin' to cut baaaaack and... stuff... and..."
"You're already fuckin' fat, Cheye." Astrid rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her sizeable lovehandles, "What's another pizza gonna do?"
And in her inibriated state, Cheyenne couldn't quite argue with Astrid's point. Pizza sounded great. Why did she eat anything other than pizza? Or Oreos? Or chips. God, her appetite just got so out of control whenever she got high. It was one of the reasons she'd tried to stop coming over so much. But with Brooke and Avery being so unsupportive of her weight loss goals, she hadn't seen many other avenues to take out her frustrations.
It was either this or maybe go through a drive-thru marathon around town. But that certainly wouldn't have been helpful.
Not that this was going to be exactly good for her diet, either...
"So that's four large pizzas, two pepperoni, one hawaiian, one cheese?"
"Oooohfuck we should do barbecue hawaiian." Riley helpfully added from her armchair, "You ever had that, Cheye?"
"Yeah we... fuck... we had it last time, didn't we?"
"It was so good, right?"
"Yeahhhhh~"
Cheyenne was juuuuust lucid enough to realize that this might not have been the most productive way to spend her night. She had been wanting to try and shed some pounds for some time now, and getting high with her bestie and her roommate was almost assuredly not the best way to do it. Not with how her brain was wired—any and all of her emotions told her that she needed food, and that went double for whenever she was actively trying to avoid said emotions with various vices.
As that lucidity faded the longer that the night wore on, Cheyenne would find herself feeling less and less regretful for every slice of pizza that she piled past her lips. Every hungry grunt and wanting moan as she stuffed herself full of each and every thing that Astrid and Riley ordered for them to munch on. Every gasping, rasping breath as the room spun around her.
"It's shooooooooooooooo goooooooooood..."
Time slowed to a crawl as Cheyenne's baser instincts took over; sentences dragging out until they felt like whole conversations, and each bite a meal in and of itself. Before too terribly long, the big brunette was out of it, plain and simple. Much like the pot-bellied gamer gal and her busty, redheaded roommate, Cheyenne was gone for the rest of the evening.
Her appetite, however, was another story...
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