Vile Bread
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Arkansas
🕑 Added 2021-08-26 17:27:29 +0000 UTCStanding in the hot sun holding my thumb in the air in ninety degree weather was no fun, but we were stranded, and that’s what we were going to do today. Sweat rolled down my forehead as I stared down the open road, where not even a speck would appear over the horizon. Laura, my wife, stood next to me, her hands on her thin hips, which were slanted in a way that said it was probably not how she wanted to spend her vacation. Our car did not survive our trip through Arkansas, and in maybe the worst place possible. We were stranded. In the middle of nowhere. And it was hot.
“Jim, how did you let this happen?”
I shrugged. “You know I’m no car expert! Snapping at me isn’t going to solve anything. It’s hot, we’re sweaty, I think we just need to stay positive.”
“This place sucks. When we get out of here, I’m taking a long, cold shower. And you’re not invited!”
I could tell she was making a joke, but her inner anger was still present. There was always an element of truth to every joke. It’s true that we were sweating like mad, and a cold shower would mean the world to us. But someone had to come by and pick us up first. Surprisingly, even though this was a semi major road, there had been zero activity since we broke down. We had been out here for at least a half an hour. Even in the big city where we were from, a small road still had traffic. Maybe a car at least every minute. Life must have been slow out here in the country.
“Look! A truck!” I heard my wife yell. I turned my head. Indeed, our potential savior was barreling down the hilly road towards us. It was a rusty looking, huge, tan colored truck with wheels that would come past my waist. It was big enough to have one of those loud horns that you could hear from far down the road.
We both faced the truck and held up our thumbs to them, smiling as much as we could. To our luck, we heard the breaks kick in as the truck slowly came to a stop. This was a heavy duty vehicle meant for towing and moving big things around. Maybe even cars! It seemed our luck was picking up. We were facing the driver’s side window, which was tinted. After a moment, it rolled down. Inside was an older man, looked to be in his fifties, wearing a red hat and what appeared to be overalls over some flannel. If you had to stereotype a hard working redneck, this is probably how you would do it.
“Looks like we got a couple o’ city folks hangin’ out on the side of Wistful Road,” came a friendly voice from the truck.
I laughed. “Yeah, we’ve been caught with a junker. Hey, I hate to be a burden, but would it be possible to lend us a hand? Maybe get us back to town so we can do some repairs and get back on the road?”
“You’re in luck, son. I am the repairman.” The man patted the side of the door. It was rusty, but it read ‘Jasper’s Automobile Repair’.
“Well how about that? And you must be Jasper?” I asked.
“The same!” He replied, with a grin the size of a crescent moon. “How about ya’ll help me get your car all towed up, we drag it back to town and git her all fixed up for you huh?”
“Wow, Jasper, sir, I can’t thank you enough for your kindness.”
“Oh it’s no bother. I’ll even cut you a nice deal, you look like a nice enough couple. Sure is hot out here.”
“Oh yeah, sweltering.”
He paused a minute. “Well, why don’t we get started then shall we?” He got out of the truck and hopped down. From inside the car, he definitely looked burly, but as he leapt out, he was well over six feet tall and fairly thick. His work boots commanded attention as they thudded to the ground. The two of us got started moving stuff around, when he looked up at me. “Don’t suppose your wife over there would want to hang out in the back seat? We got AC in there.”
“Oh thank you,” Laura exclaimed, racing to the truck.
“My daughter Marybell is riding with me today, feel free to keep ‘er company. Let me get the door for you.” He left me to open the door and came back. “Marybell don’t get to see too many city folk, I’m sure they’ll make some great conversation.”
We finished getting the car latched and ready to go (though to be fair, he did almost all of the work, I probably got in the way more than anything). He seemed genuinely happy to help us. This must have been that southern hospitality everyone always spoke of. I felt so blessed to be able to experience it first hand, when I needed it most.
“Okay, looks like we’re ready to get on truckin’. How about I help you in the backseat with your old lady and we head out?”
“Sounds great, Jasper. I can’t thank you enough for this.”
He opened the door. “It’s my pleasure, son.”
I climbed into the backseat, but could only make it so far. As soon as I got in, I was touching Laura. I wanted to ask if she could scoot over, but I looked up just slightly and saw what was easily the largest girl I had ever seen. This must have been Marybell. The cabin of this already large truck was meant to comfortably hold three people. Marybell’s butt took up two of the seats easily, with extra flab taking more of the third. This left very little room for Laura and I. She was wearing pink booty shorts that barely concealed her butt cheeks, and her immense, tan thighs had to be around two feet in thickness. This made her appear even taller than she probably was, though with her genetics, she was probably decent in height as well. Continuing upward, she had a bit of a belly (of course), but a lot of it was covered up by two beach ball sized breasts, which we exploding out of her tight white shirt that didn’t cover her belly button. The shirt was neither a V cut nor was it meant to be revealing, but her prodigious chest must have stretched out the fabric to the point that her cleavage billowed out of the top. Even for how big of a girl she was (and she was huge), her breasts were absurdly large. As I entered the cabin she turned to smile at me, her pendulous boobs wobbling and rippling with even the slightest motion. Even crazier still, they stuck out so far from her chest that they pushed into Laura’s comparatively small head and mashed her into the back of the seat. In fact, in those few moments, Laura’s face and upper torso where being squished into the cushion, and her arms lightly protested. Marybell had a cute face, with a lot of curly blonde hair and well tanned skin. Her eyes were blue and big, just like the rest of her.
When Marybell turned forward again, Laura’s face was revealed, and she looked both shocked and distressed. She turned towards me with the most agitated of faces. Neither of us could believe both how large she was and also how oblivious. At her size, this sort of thing must happen often.
“Ok boys and girls, we ready?” Asked Jasper as he entered the driver’s seat.
“I-I think so,” I replied.
“Sit tight, this road tends to get a little bumpy and windy, even for this ol’ Truck here.” He swerved off of the main road and onto a dirt path that looked like it was carved out of the hillside. Off we went, and to where exactly I did not know. We were at the mercy of this man. He took a sharp right turn. “Hold on!” He hollered. He clearly enjoyed this. I leaned into Laura, and Laura was shoved hard into Marybell’s huge left breast. Her face plunged into it, disappearing in her side boob for a solid few seconds. When the turn was done and we were finally going straight again, she was able to pull herself out. Her face was bright red and her breathing was heavy.
As we drove down this road, it was amazing watching Marybell’s breasts bounce and wobble. It was like watching a living lava lamp. There weren’t women that looked like that where I was from, it was just impossible. She seemed so comfortable being so tragically overweight. We also clearly caught her at a time when she didn’t think there would be company on this trip. Her booty shorts screamed of quick trip downtown, not getting out of the car.
At one point, we heard a squealing sound from the Marybell. “Aw, Marybell!? We have company!” Yelled Jasper.
“Sorry Daddy,” muttered Marybell. Then it hit us. She farted, and it was the worst fart I had ever smelled in my life. It was as if she ate something that was alive, it died inside of her, and it’s death remains crept out of her big ass. I tried my best not to sell it, but Laura was not as composed.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” She yelled, covering her face with her shirt. Jasper stopped the truck.
“I am so sorry, let me move some things around up front, it ain’t as bad up here honey.” He reorganized his passenger seat and got out of the car, opening our side. I got out into the beautiful, clean Arkansas air, followed quickly by Laura. Realizing I had to go back in, I did my best to remain chipper and climbed next to Marybell. I certainly had more room now, though not much. At least most of the smell had dissipated.
As we continued on down the road, I could sense the path getting rockier and more twisty. Jasper let us know. “Hey, Marybell. Be a good girl and put that little fella back there between your legs. We’re almost home, but this is the rockiest part of the path. Don’t need him flying around the cabin breaking his neck now.” It was just then that I realized there indeed were no seatbelts in this truck. I guess it wasn’t meant for toting people, and Marybell didn’t really need one. I tried climbing over her thigh. I couldn’t help but put one hand on it and try to pull up, but at this angle it didn’t really work. In one quick motion, she grabbed me by my hips, lifted me up, and plopped me down between her legs.
I was now between the two biggest thighs I had ever seen. To either side of me were massive, fleshy arm rests. She took hold of my arms and rested them on her rubbery thighs. “We’re good, Daddy,” she said.
“Ok, hold on tight!” Jasper yelled. Marybell’s catcher’s mitt like hands held on to my ribcage as we continued down the rocky path. I realized I was hunched forward, but as soon as that hit it was apparent I was being pushed forward by her massive bust. Indeed, the back of my head was pushing against what had to be at least sixty pounds of breast flesh, and losing the battle by a wide margin.
“Marybell, we are hitting the swamp, seat belt please!” Jasper commanded.
“Aw daddy, do I have to?” She asked.
“You know this is the worst part, and we have company. Buckle up!”
I looked to the right. There was a clearly handmade seatbelt coming from the top that I hadn’t noticed (Marybell took up most of the view). She pulled it down and squeezed her butt as far as she could, unsquishing the buckle portion. I suddenly realized how tight this would get but I wasn’t fast enough.
“Wait I-“ was all I could get out before she managed to buckle herself into the seat. The belt was right on her chest, and pulled the back of my head into her ample cleavage. Well, at least now I wasn’t hunched over. Unfortunately, the way it was stretched out over my face, I thought it was going to break my nose. I had to turn my face so it could pull on my cheek. I didn’t think of it at the moment, but now my face was literally touch and pressing into her massive right breast. I was stuck here and couldn’t move. Her breasts were very soft to the touch, and now damp. I think the feeling of my skin against hers was making her warm, because she began to perspire. I couldn’t move my head back at all, so instinctually, I tried to moving my hand up and pushing back against her heaving chest. But I had limited functionality in the hand due to the seat belt, so my effort was in vain, and maybe even worse than before. My hand got stuck in the seatbelt trap just like my face, so now I was holding her right breast all the while being smothered by it. All during this bumpy ride, her breasts bounced and wobbled, and my face went with it, each time pushing further and further into her cleavage. Miraculously, even the my face was sideways, I was able to sink into her soft chest fairly easily.
Finally the truck stopped. Marybell looked down at me, and I up at her, at least as much as I could. “We’re home,” she whispered.
