BBWCon: Couchman

"What am I doing here?" I muttered to myself as I looked around.

'Here' was BBWCon, a gathering of all manner of large/fat/chubby/plump women and people that liked to ogle them. Put that way, I suppose I fit right in, since I enjoyed looking at larger women ever since I was thirteen.

On the other hand, conventions are social events, and me and social interaction went hand in hand like peanut butter and motor oil. I had, ostensibly, come hoping to find a date, but after spending two hours here and not having so much as said 'hello' to a woman, I was thinking I'd spent an obscene amount of money to just stare at pretty girls. Something I could do for free at home, thanks to the internet.

Admittedly, I couldn't find women wrestling in pudding online (for free at least), or deep-throating cans of whipped cream (again, for free), but considering that I was in public, and the women I was ogling could see me, it more or less just made me feel embarrassed.

I sighed heavily and took a bite of my over-priced convention pizza. It was pretty good, so I didn't feel –entirely- ripped off for spending so much, but still. It made me almost wish I was one of the BBWs here; they got discounts on all the delicious fattening food, plus plenty of free food for taking part in the events.

I set my slice aside and pulled a schedule out of my bag, looking over the events that were coming up. Prize Hog, the pie eating contest was probably the highlight of the day, but still a few hours off. There were some panels that looked interesting; how to write wg stories by someone named Jess, a panel on feedee-feeder relationships, a cooking seminar, diet tips for gainers, etc. Nothing that screamed 'must see' so I kept looking.

The back rooms, where they had the more erotic activities, looked interesting, but I wrote them off. They all had an additional fee to get in, and considering I'd saved up for three months just to get here, I didn't think additional fees would be a good idea. There was a fashion show going on, but I wrote that off as well; there were plenty of attractive women walking around all over the con. Marshmallow Madness sounded interesting; fat girls eating marshmallows by the bucket load, what's not to like? But, I still had to wait an hour for that. I figured it might be good to go get in line so I could get a good seat though.  I finished up my pizza and shoved my schedule back into my bag roughly. It was pretty full, with a nice hardcover book, a couple cans of pop, set of gaming dice (don't ask), towel, and of course my cape.

Now, I realize that a cape might seem a bit odd to be carrying around in a convention off this sort, but if the gaming dice didn't tip you off, I'm a little odd. Y'see, awhile ago, I got the idea to go to conventions in the guise of a super hero; Couchman. Softer than a blanket, more comfortable than a recliner, able to seat three comfortably, and all that jazz. The costume was simple, a pair of jeans, a cape (made from a pretty nice piece of couch fabric) and a blue t-shirt with a restyled Superman symbol (a C instead of an S, of course). I wore the shirt under a light button down t-shirt, and to complete the Clark Kent theme, I wore a pair of glasses that I'd removed the lenses from, to keep my secret identity secret.

Don't give me that look. I'm aware of how dorky it sounds.

Ideally, the costume is supposed to give me confidence enough to talk to women, as well as an in to talking to them. I mean, there are lots of people wandering around conventions looking for a comfy place to rest, it's even better when one comes to them. The costume had gotten a lot of appreciative comments in the past, but hadn't helped me accomplish what I intended it for. Fat girls are like my kryptonite. Except, y'know, I want to bone them.

I debated putting it on, but decided against it. If I did it here and now, everyone would learn my secret identity. "Later," I muttered and began my journey to where they were hosting the Marshmallow Madness.
I'd been to conventions before, and the one thing that was usually a problem was getting around. There's a ton of other people there, a lot of whom are probably not trying to get the same place you are, and are more than likely trying to move a way that hinders you. Being a big guy, it can be difficult to do without running into anyone when the crowd is more average sized. Among the patrons of BBWCon… it was damned near impossible.

I bumped into at least a dozen different women within the first hundred yards, more often than not in a rather embarrassing way, and muttered a hasty and quiet apology. I kept having to remind myself that I was –not- trying to collide with these women, regardless of how soft, smooth, squishy and wonderful they may look or feel. I took me a few moments to remember why I didn't, after I collided with a particularly large woman's butt, and I swear she gave me a wink.

I eventually got there and was unsurprised to see that there was already a line formed, which I promptly got in. There was, as expected, a high male population in the line, but also a good number of women, many of whom were definitely my type. I took a seat on the floor and pulled out my book, stealing glances at some of the women every page or two.

One in particular caught my attention. She was about 5'5" with long red hair, a cute little nose and a killer smile, complete with dimples. Her eyes were a real intense shade of green and were alight with intellect and a sense of humor, behind a pair of glasses. She surprisingly didn't have much of a double chin though. I say surprisingly because every inch of her below the neck could have the word 'double' applied to it appropriately. Her breasts were large, but didn't dominate her frame. They rested on top of a mammoth belly that sported three very distinct rolls. Her ass dominated her frame, so large and yet so shapely. It flowed into a pair of thighs that touched for all but the last inch or two above her knees. She was wearing a pair of jeans that looked as if they might burst a seam I she had so much as a truffle, and she wore a tight red shirt that read "Rated N, for full frontal nerdity."

The first thought that entered my head was "where did she get that shirt?" The second thought was that I should totally try and flirt with her. But, I thought to myself, she's probably already got a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, I suppose. After about ten minutes and re-reading the same paragraph six times between staring at her, I closed my book and set it back in my bag and stared at the cape for a bit.

"Come on," I said to myself quietly. "You can do it. What's the worst that can happen? She says 'no' and you feel like crap for awhile. No biggie." I thought I made a good point and rose to my feet, looking around. I spotted a conveniently placed bathroom and sprinted towards it, ripping the button down open at the top, revealing part of the symbol. I probably looked like an idiot, and definitely got a few looks that confirmed it, but I wanted it to seem silly.

I quickly ducked into an unoccupied stall and ripped the shirt off the rest of the way and pulled out the cape. I had rolled it so I could don it quickly; I just slipped it over my head and poked it a bit and it unfurled. I checked myself in the mirror (while garnering a few strange looks from a couple of guys in there), decided I looked heroic enough, and dashed out of there.

"This looks like a job for…" I shouted as I came back into view of the line and struck a pose; fists on hips, feet shoulder width apart, head turned so that my hair could catch the wind (despite the lack thereof). "Couchman!"

I got a bunch of 'lolwut' looks, and a few giggles, but also some applause. The cute redhead was one of the ones applauding, and also giggling. God she looked cute giggling, it made me weak in the knees. 'Focus, you're Couchman now. Couchman does not show weakness,' I thought.

I looked up and down the line, my squinty superhero stare going. "So many people standing around uncomfortably, it saddens Couchman to see it!" I declared in my superhero voice, which was a bit deeper and more dramatic sounding . "Who among you would like a comfortable place to sit?" I pointed at the cute redhead "Perhaps you, miss!" I said with a grin that was only a little forced.

'Don't stumble over your words. Must keep a straight face, don't seem disappointed if she says no,' I thought furiously.

To my delight, she grinned widely and nodded. I felt my grin widen as I swept my cape dramatically and moved over towards her. "May Couchman have your name?"

She giggled again, covering her mouth with a hand. "Jennifer," she said, her voice bubbly and sweet.

"Well then, Jennifer," I said, sitting on the ground and patting my lap "take a seat, and see how comfortable Couchman is!" She giggled again and did so.

As that happened, I thought to myself 'Son of a mother she's heavy!' Given my preference for bigger girls, you'd think that it wouldn't be that surprising. But, since the only girl I'd ever had sit on me weighed only a little over a hundred pounds, it was a bit different than I expected. I let out a quiet grunt as she settled her weight on me.

"I'm not too heavy, am I?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

I let out a laugh. "No job is too big for Couchman! No woman either," I said with a wink that she obviously didn't see. She giggled though, so maybe the wink wasn't necessary.

We made some polite small talk for a little while, until people started filing in for the event. She had said she was gonna be competing, so we made plans to meet up after Prize Hog, after I promised to cheer her on during it.

A superhero's work is never done.