Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Chapter 1: The Fair

Each year the county fair drew thousands of all ages- not that it was all that different, or exciting, but it had become a tradition for the older generation and an annual adventure for the young. There were the exhibits, the farm animals and produce, the carnival rides, and food for any taste but gourmet. Most of all, there were the people, diverse, sometimes a bit uninhibited, sometimes a bit strange, but always amused and amusing others.

Jack Donnelson wasn’t sure why he came to the fair. He was thirty, now, and had been an annual visitor since he was a schoolboy. Jack had become a bit of a businessman, actually an insurance adjustor, and now it was just a bit of a diversion. He was to have come with Debbie, a former business associate, but she had declined at a late moment, and so, being unattached, he wandered in by himself, probably mostly out of habit.

It was mid afternoon when he passed the midway, heading for a tent where he understand some foreign acrobats were to appear. Well, he had seen acrobats before, and didn’t find this particularly appealing, but what else was there? He scanned a posted program.

In a half hour, he noted, the beer drinking contest would be on. Now, what kind of person enters a beer drinking contest, he wondered. If one was looking for free beer, this wasn’t the place – there was an entry fee that would cost as much as what most people would care to drink. Jack himself wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but he thought it would perhaps be amusing to watch a few others make fools of themselves, so he moved over to the area.

As he found a place to watch, the contestants were being briefed. The contest would go half an hour. The contestants, lined up on a platform, would be given pitchers of beer – big pitchers. Each was to completely down the pitcher, and could then be given a second. The process would continue, until the half hour was over, or until contestants had reached their capacity and retired. The one who had consumed the most beer at the end would be declared the winner and would be awarded a handsome cash prize. It was required that the participants remain standing, not spill excessively, and if anyone became sick or nauseated he or she would be disqualified.

Jack looked over the fourteen contestants – nine men and five women. They were of assorted ages and shapes. The one who seemed the most unlikely was a young girl who looked like she couldn’t weigh over a hundred pounds. Several of the men looked pretty hefty, though, and Jack guessed they could put away a sizeable volume. One woman was older, a bit matronly, perhaps fifty something, with a bit of a paunch; and one was a younger woman, perhaps twenty something, but very well padded. Jack guessed she would outweigh him by a considerable margin.

A crowd had assembled, and at a signal, each contestant lifted his first pitcher. Friends and family members watching cheered on their favorites. All fourteen tilted their pitchers, drawing into themselves large draughts of the beverage. Some were neat, some were sloppy. One man, obviously in too big a hurry, suddenly coughed violently, spitting beer over those nearby. He was soon retired from the group.

The first man to empty his pitcher quickly exchanged it for another, quickly raising it to his lips. He had quaffed it in about minute and a half, Jack reckoned. Jack turned to a woman standing nearby, observing “There’s the winner – he’s got a head start already!”

She disagreed, shaking her head. “Not really – slow and steady does it here – they have half an hour, you know. And those things must hold half a gallon – think he can keep putting them away at that rate?”

The watched, amused at the differences in styles among the drinkers. The fastest man had downed two pitchers before one woman had finished even half of one. Soon, another participant turned away, bending over, obviously sick with an overstressed stomach.

The minutes passed. At the halfway point, the fastest drinker had slowed considerably, now trying to sip his way through a third pitcher. The slim young woman decided she was not equal to the game, and withdrew, to cheers from her friends. “She didn’t look like she stood much chance, anyway,” Jack observed to his neighbor. “Women don’t in things like this!”

The lady arched her eyebrows. “You better look at number six! She’s just started her third; but look at the size of her! Don’t you think she has a stomach to match?” Jack eyed the heavyset woman. “Maybe. But she’s up against some serious male competition!”

“Sexist!” smiled the lady.

The end drew near. Several had now quit drinking, one after gulping three and a half pitchers. He was standing still, looking a bit dizzied and bloated, looking to see if anyone would beat his capacity. Three men and two women were still trying to down more beer.

The announcer started calling the time left to finish. Two minutes – one and a half – one minute. The big woman was still holding her fourth pitcher to her lips. Seconds before the end, she put it down mersin esc – empty.

The announcer looked at her hesitatingly, then smiled and cheered. He reached over to her and held up her hand – the only one of the fourteen to get four pitchers of beer into one stomach!

A cheer went up. Jack’s neighbor nudged him. “See – a woman can do it! But I’ll bet she’s got one bloated stomach!”

Jack nodded agreement. The announcer called out the winner’s name. “Our champion beer drinker – four full pitchers – is Mary Gustavson! Mary, come over here for your prize!”

Mary could be seen moving to accept her award. There were cheers, mostly from women, Jack noted. The crowd began to disperse to other activities.

Jack treated himself to a bit of refreshment, after all, watching all that drinking could make one a bit thirsty! He found other people and items to amuse himself for a bit.

Half an hour later, he passed back through the area where the contest had taken place. He happened to notice a woman, her back to him, seated alone on a bench. Something about her seemed a bit familiar. He took a second look. She was Mary, who had won the drinking contest. Now she was sitting on a bench, by herself, looking a bit downcast.

Jack approached her. She was indeed a big woman, and, he reflected, with a big stomach to match. She didn’t seem particularly tall, but she had a lot of meat on her. She was wearing a print dress, knee length, with short sleeves, not particularly fashionable. She had a nice looking face, hardly beautiful, but by no means ugly, and a rather plain hairstyle with a pony tail in the back.

“Didn’t I see you win the beer drinking contest?” Jack offered, by way of introducing himself. “I’m Jack Donnellson – I watched your performance! You must like beer!”

Startled, she lifted up her head and turned to him.

“Yeah. I’m Mary Gustavson, and no, I don’t particularly like beer. Right now I hate it! Gee, I feel awful!” She shook her head for emphasis.

“Guess you feel like anyone with two gallons of beer in them,” Jack offered, sympathetically.

She just sat, her eyes downcast, obviously in physical discomfort.

“I only come to enter the drinking contest. Gets me a little extra spending money; about all a big stomach is ever going to get you. That is, if I can keep from getting sick! Now I have to wait another half hour to see if I can get to the bus to get home. Yehh!! I hate beer, especially when there’s four pitchers inside me!”

“Can’t say as I especially like beer either, but I do have a couple, now and then. ‘Course I wouldn’t drink four pitchers straight down! Here,” he offered his hand, “usually I settle insurance claims. Don’t you have anyone with you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I came alone, just for the contest. I could have driven, but driving home after winning a beer drinking contest isn’t a really good idea!” She smiled a bit at her observation.

“I almost wish I could throw up,” she added a moment later. “Weekdays I’m a bookkeeper, but I don’t do much else.”

“Sounds like you’re bored with life. Haven’t you any friends?”

“Oh, of course I do. People I work with, but none of them wanted to come to this thing. Just as well. They’d think I was some kind of lush!”

“Well,” Jack went on, “you did handle your beer quite well!”

“One of my few talents. When you carry around two hundred and forty pounds of flab, people think you must have a big stomach. And I do, I have to admit it. Oh, I feel so blown up!”

She started to get up. She rubbed her stomach gently, shaking her head. “Oh, I wonder why I ever decide to do this! Most of me is flab, but you want to feel one part of me that’s firm? Here, let me have your hand!”

Jack offered his hand, rather reluctantly. She placed it on her ample stomach. “Most of me may be soft, but one place is as hard as a rock! Feel that!”

He pressed gently on her stomach, indeed rock hard from its load of beer. She sat down again, a bit unsteadily. “Now I’m a little dizzy – too much beer, maybe!” She laughed a bit at her situation, realizing she was probably seeming a bit drunk.

“I hope I can find the bus!” she said.

Jack wasn’t sure why he had approached this woman. Probably just curiosity, he thought. She certainly wasn’t fitting his usual concept of an attractive female. She was badly overweight, not very tidy, unfashionably dressed, feeling miserable and probably a bit drunk.

“Do you need some help getting to the bus?” he asked.

“I’d better be sure I can walk, carrying all this liquid with me. Gee, I wish I could get rid of it! Well, in time- “

She rose up again, and started, rather unsteadily, to move away. Jack joined her. He hoped she didn’t stumble and fall, for he was sure he could never pick her up if she did. He began to walk beside her, from time to time grasping her arm to steady her.

“Gee, you’re a real gentleman. Don’t see many like you anymore!” She seemed to appreciate his proffered aid.

They passed an area with portable toilets, esc mersin and she glanced at them. For a moment she stopped, looking longingly at a long queue of women lined up for one. She studied the situation for a moment. Jack asked her, “Do you want to make a stop before you go?”

In his mind, he considered the effect of those four pitchers of beer. She shook her head, and moved onward. “No, look at the line. I’ll wait till I get home!”

His eyes asked her the question of whether she could. In answer to his unspoken query, she added “I wait pretty well. I think.”

“Look,” he said, “I have my car out there in the lot. I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride home- that is, if you’ll allow me and tell me where to go. It may a be along walk to that bus, and I’m not sure you feel like doing it.”

She didn’t answer immediately. He repeated the offer.

She thought. “That’s nice of you. But you just met me, and you don’t know where I live. We’re out in the country, here, and you could stay and have yourself a good time. You don’t have to take care of a girl who’s tipsy with too much beer! Besides, how do I know you wouldn’t try to take advantage of me?”

“You don’t,” he replied. “But I really think you need some help. I don’t like to see you try to get home alone when you’re not really in the best shape! I do a lot of driving in my business. It’s no trouble to me, really!”

They bantered about it for a few minutes. Finally she relented. “OK – Somehow, I feel I can trust you. You’re a nice guy. And I do need to get home soon. Wish those lines hadn’t been so long back there.”

He let her comment about the lines pass. They reached the parking lot, and sought after his car. It took several more minutes to reach the car. Finally, they found it. He helped her into the front seat, then started the car. She gave him the needed instructions to get to her home.

By now it was dusk. He considered the route, and observed, “That’s about twenty miles, with traffic and all the turns, it may take us an hour.”

“OK,” she replied. “And I really do thank you! I was feeling pretty awful!”

“You were? Doing any better now?”

“My stomach feels little better. That’s good. Trouble is, I’m going have another problem, soon. But I think I can handle it.”

He guessed what she meant. “Sorry about the long lines back there. You want me to stop somewhere for you?”

“No, thanks. It’s OK just to get me home. I’m a big girl, and I can wait!”

They headed out, following her instructions. The route she had selected was mainly rural, passing mostly farms and pastures. They talked bit about each other, exchanging bits of personal history. Jack was beginning to develop a kind of rapport with his oversize passenger. At first she laughed a bit with him, and seemed to enjoy their casual talk. Gradually she became more restrained.

Jack sensed something was disturbing her.

“Are you all right?” He glanced at her, noting she was tensed, biting her lip.

“Yes – well, not really! I guess I have a kidney problem!”

“A kidney problem?”

“Problem is, my kidneys work – and they’re processing all that beer! And it’s all going- well, I thought I could hold it- I’ve got a big stomach, and I’m pretty big down there, too! Lots of times I can wait all day, but -“

Her voice trailed off.

“Want me to stop somewhere?”

“Ooh – it’s hurting me worse than when it was in my stomach! Jack, I’m not going to be able to hold it!” Tears were in her eyes, as much from embarrassment, he thought, as from pain.

“I’ll see if I can find a bathroom for you-“

She shook her head. “There won’t be any on this road, and even if you found one, I don’t think I could walk to it! Can you just stop along the side of the road, please?”

Jack pulled over on the road shoulder. They were passing a pasture. On the other side was only grass. No trees or buildings were nearby. There was, however, traffic on the road. Mary looked ahead and behind.

“Too many cars! I’ll just have wait until there’s a break. Here-“

She reached over and took his hand, placing it on her stomach. “Not as hard as it was before, is it?” she asked, as they waited. Then, abruptly, she moved his hand down to just below her stomach. “Please don’t push, just feel! See why it hurts? I just can’t go any further!”

His hand was resting on her belly, over her bladder. It could feel it, hard and immensely swollen. It seemed almost as big as her stomach had been. He didn’t usually feel female bladders, but this one was big, and very hard. He felt a surge of arousal within himself as he contemplated being with a woman who needed to pee as badly as this one.

The traffic seemed to subside a bit, and moved toward the door. He sprang from his seat and rushed around to open the door for her. She acknowledged his courtesy with a pained smile as she gingerly eased herself outside.

She moved just a bit, toward the rear of the car, her back against it. She began to squat slightly, and hiked up her skirt a bit mersin escort as she reached to draw her underwear down. She tried to squat with her back against the car while trying to slide her underpants down, but in her dizzied state she fumbled a bit, then in frustration dropped her underpants to the ground and stepped out of them. Jack stood beside her, watching every move. While he might have offered her the courtesy of averting his eyes, his fascination with the sight before him was compelling. Anyway, she seemed to take no notice of his presence. She picked up her underwear in a quick motion, spread her legs, and sank to a half squat as she drew her skirt higher. She glanced at the road. A car was approaching from the rear, but it was some distance away.

She held the posture for a bit, her face uplifted and her eyes closed in seeming concentration. Then he heard her stream. He glanced down, in the fading light, to see a thick stream of clear liquid pouring out from under her skirt, projecting in a noticeable arc.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Then she glanced down the road, at the approaching car. “I can’t stop now – can they see anything?” She asked.

Gallantly, he shifted his position to the other side of her, to shield her from the view of the approaching car. His own eyes stayed fixed on her urine stream, gushing into a large and rapidly growing puddle at her feet. His arousal had now resulted in an uncontrollable erection, apparent as a large bulge in his pants.

“Sorry – it’s going to take me a while – it was a lot of beer!” she observed, now smiling a bit. Then she added, “For what it’s worth, I haven’t done this in front of a man – I really don’t mean to embarrass you!”

He eyes dropped a bit. Suddenly he became acutely aware that they were now focused on the bulge in his pants. He was seized with a need to somehow hide the signs of his aroused state, but he could think of nothing. They simply stared at each other.

The approaching car came and passed, and then another. Her stream continued unabated. The puddle was now spawning streams draining in several directions.

“I told you I was big down there – really, I’m quite a tank! Comes with being a big girl, I guess.” She was almost apologizing.

Now his arousal was almost dizzying. Never had he watched a woman urinate this closely, and never had he seen anyone release so much from one bladder. It was indeed a heady sight.

Finally her stream slackened. She gingerly stood up, still holding her skirt. She looked about, probably for something with which to wipe herself, but there was nothing handy. After a few moments, she dropped the skirt. She did not slip her underwear back on, but instead stuffed the garment roughly into her belt.

She reentered the car, and again he took his seat and started the engine.

“Again, I’m sorry we had to do this, but I guess you know now how much I needed to. You’ve been so nice, I hated to make you do this!”

“No trouble at all. Really, I rather enjoyed it” he answered. Then, thinking she might take his remarks the wrong way, he went on, “I have to admit, I never had a woman do that with me beside her – don’t apologize, I really did enjoy it?”

“You must not be around many girls,” Mary observed, inquisitively.

“Oh, I have had girl friends. They just haven’t done that around me. After all, you said you hadn’t done it around men, before!”

“When you’re thirty-one and weigh two hundred and forty pounds, men don’t exactly chase you. I haven’t really had a date in about ten years. What man wants to be with a woman who’s as fat and sloppy as I am?”

“Don’t degrade yourself – you have good qualities!”

“Such as?”

“Well, you make good conversation, you drink beer well, and – and you pee beautifully!”

Her response was just a bit of a wry smile.

Slowly they traveled the somewhat complex route to her home. She lived, it developed, in an upstairs condo located in a rather large complex of similar residences. She recognized the familiar surroundings, and began to direct him to her location.

“We’re almost there – and just in time. I hate to admit it, but that beer is moving fast downstairs – I can hardly hold it. Gee, I need to let some more out. Well, we’ll be there in a couple of minutes! It really is great of you to do this!”

Jack could not resist the response that occurred to him. “You want me to stop again? I wouldn’t mind watching-” His eye sparkled a bit as she caught the implication.

“You got your chance! Thanks – I can make it there, now!”

She directed him and they stopped at a parking spot in front of her building. She fumbled a bit for her keys, then slid out of the car as he held the door for her.

“Thanks again for everything. I feel better now – or at least I will when I get to my bathroom. “

“Here’s my card,” Jack told her, offering her his business card. “My home phone’s on it. Just in case you want anything. Or if you’d like to call!”

He himself wasn’t sure just what he meant by that. This woman was not what he would usually consider a prospective date. Somehow, though, he was reluctant to lose contact with her. She hadn’t asked him up to her apartment, and he had a feeling she would not.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32