Rosie Cheeks Ch. 04: Swinging Volley

It was Kara that broke the silence first. "We were waiting on you, Ros. What's new?"

"Another day in paradise," Rosaline said, nostrils flaring. Her tone didn't exactly sound tropical.

Elle immediately allowed her racquet to drop to the ground. "See, I know that tone. When Rosaline LeBlanc is angry, the whole world feels it."

Rosaline wheeled around to face her across the net. "And just what could you mean by that?!"

"It means you're usually a ray of sunshine, and you're angry about something." Grace's whisper was accompanied by a gentle touch of Rosaline's shoulder -- a touch that she wouldn't have to reach so far for, were her companion's dimensions not impossibly wide. "Take my racquet and play. Talk to us."

Rosaline's eyebrows softened as she watched Grace put the thing in her hands and tenderly clasped her pale fingers around the handle. Just like that, a hint of her timidness rose up within her yet again. "I... uhm... I'm not sure how to play."

Grace was already walking away. Behind her, she heard Kara's reply. "Doesn't matter. There's no way we'd win, anyway."

"Hit the ball when it comes to you." Frannie offered, not looking up.

Grace gingerly set herself down behind her former team. There was a minor risk of being hit by a wayward ball here... but she knew the risk was well worth the reward. As she must have done a million times before, she snuck a look at her roommate. Rosaline faced away from her and toward her unexpected opponent. She had begun to awkwardly sway the racquet left and right, trying to get a feel for it as she stammered to find her words - her light, melodious voice began to recount the events of that morning, but Grace's brain almost immediately relegated it to background noise, sweet as it was. Her body was barely moving, but it didn't take an acute eye to spot what Grace had moved backward for. Rosaline's fat pale ass, its northern regions still peeking mischievously out of her leggings, shifted hypnotically before she had even finished her first swing. First it was her left cheek, then her right, then her left, then both, caught up in one another's motion. Grace observed silently, stars dancing in her eyes.

Rosaline's rear quaked with residual motion as she stopped her practice swings. The cheeks swung from one thigh to another, their rhythm slowly decreasing until she took one gentle step to her left. The gigantic leg rose and the booty spread apart, just barely, one cheek forcibly suspended just a little higher than its partner... then her foot hit the ground. The sheer inertia of it forced the fatty surface to reveal its true composition, and her left cheek shivered and undulated like a liquid as Rosie tossed her hair over her shoulder. Grace's awareness of the tangles and knots vanished, replaced with a wide eyed focus on gravity's finest work.

"I dunno, Ros. Standing a girl up is one thing, but it's the not answering NOW that's bothering me." Elle's voice, somewhere outside this moment. It was the first response offered.

"He's never done anything like this. I've been trying to talk to him for hours, but he's just gone."

"Rosaline, you've known him a week. You're giving him the benefit of the doubt." Frannie? Grace wasn't sure.

There was the "thok" of a racquet against a ball, and Rosaline's form sank lower for a split second. Her lower tonnage made to follow but was dragged to the right before it could, seeming to lag behind its owner. No... it would be more accurate to say it was dragging her backward. Rosaline broke out into a run for the unseen target, and her butt erupted into a wobbling fit. Not even the individual cheeks when in the same directions, as the tops seemed to move upward for brief, weightless moments before being pulled downward forcefully by the massive bottoms. She hadn't made it two steps before the perfect conditions were met, and in a beautiful second her enormous yams were thrown upward in opposing directions and thrust together, colliding with enough force to produce a deafening clap. Grace heard an "Eep!" and watched as the intoxicating shape of her roommate tried to put on the brakes. Those immense cheeks separated again and, unable to go anywhere else, rose upward and produced another clap, this one against her back. They struggled to regain their motionlessness as their owner struggled to regain her composure, and the ball sailed uncontested into Rosaline's space, bounced, and flew over Grace's head. For her, it might as well been the wind.

Elle was silent across the net, still frozen in her cast. "Uh... 15 -- love."

Rosaline's entire face began to resemble a ruby. "Mmm... My... Oh, god. Uhm, ha, C... can we forget that?"

"Need to keep that thing on a leash, girl," Kara teased.

"Kara!" Elle's voice had never reached that octave before.

"Hush up Elle, you know I'm jealous."

Grace was shocked to see Rosaline managing to smile at that. "You and everyone else, apparently. You don't think that's why he's ghosting, do you? My... hm?" She reluctantly looked over a shoulder to gesture to her still trembling donk, only for all color to drain from her face as she came cheek to cheek with a significant portion of her bare ass poking out of her leggings. She made a sound that was half shock, half humiliation and reached backward to hoist them back up. It only took her two tries to manage to get a good hold on it.

"I really doubt that, hun." Grace said, barely managing to pull herself out of her trance. "He's lucky to have you, and that's the least of his reasons why."

"You're sweet, but... hrrg!" With a final tug and shimmy of her colossal hips, the tops of Rosaline's twin globes fell haphazardly back into her leggings. Her wagon wobbled relentlessly in its bindings -- it always needed to have the last word. Rosaline gave it an exasperated sigh. "I don't know if we really know one another like that. I go to his work, we... interact... and then I stay the night. That's it."

Kara was trying desperately to conceal a smile. "Interact?"

The bottom-heavy woman ignored her. "I mean, I know his favorite color's green, he's studying political science, and he's a dog person, but I don't really KNOW him."

"One week!" Frannie reminded her. Evidently deciding sitting on the court was too tiring, she was now lying on it.

"I think what she's trying to say is it's natural for you to not 'know' him yet," Elle corrected.

"You're fuck buddies," Kara said bluntly.

"KARA!"

"Just for now, Elle, my beloved. Why don't you fuck someone else? Make him jealous~" She ventured in a singsong voice. Rosaline looked mortified.

"Definitely do not try to do that," Grace said as she tried to fight off the image of Rosaline lowering her immense thunderclapper onto her face. She had imagined what sex with Rosaline would look like in the week she had been alone in the dorm... how Titus was still alive after 4 nights with that thing, she had no idea. "Just give him time. He's a bartender, they pick up extra work when they can. He might text you back tomorrow."

Her roommate turned to face her and nodded. "Y-yeah. I could... I could try that. I worry a lot, you know that. You think I'm... overreacting?" Behind her, Grace saw Frannie shaking her head, only to be struck by a tennis ball Elle threw at her.

"Just a little, Rosie. You're nervous, it's okay. This is a first, I'd be more skeptical if you weren't worried." A gentle smile touched her lips at that, and Grace felt her heart thump a little faster.

"I still want to meet him," Kara added. "Dude needs our seal of approval."

"I gotta find him first." Rosaline said.

"Uh... are we still playing?!" Elle called from across the net.

Grace continued. "You deserve to feel happy with who you're with, Ros."

"Th... thank you. I can... You're always in my corner, Gray. Thank you."

She was looking right in Rosaline's eyes when it happened. For all the others on the court it was immediately obvious, but Grace's understanding lagged behind. She heard the "thwack-plop," she experienced the cutoff of voices as the other girls grew silent, and she even watched her roommate's expression spasm into a little yip of surprise, then fall limp. She jerked fully upright then stood there, a ludicrously-shaped porcelain doll... but not all parts of this particular porcelain doll could be forced to stillness so easily. Like someone had jostled a momentous plate of jell-o behind her, Rosaline's hips were wiggling vigorously, ripples of fat recoiling around her silhouette with imperfect rhythm.

Grace's stomach fell into a pit as she realized she could plainly see Rosaline's ass wobbling from the front. She had seen almost every part of the disturbance, all but the inciting incident. She didn't fully understand until her best friend turned toward Elle, who's big brown eyes were now poking beadily out from between her hands. Wordlessly, the fat-assed beauty reached backward, and a pale hand vanished into the void between her monstrous cheeks. Just like that, Grace understood. She had just put it together when the little hand extracted the tennis ball Elle had sent careening toward her from her enormity. Its continental form held onto it for as long as it was able, but eventually ball and booty were separated, leaving the beast to snap back into place with a defiant jiggling fit.

Grace exhaled, a low, shivering thing. An explosion ten feet from her couldn't have pulled her attention away from Rosaline's juicy derriere. Her stare lasted only a second or two, but it was enough. When she looked back up at the upper body affixed to the storied hundred-incher, she found it looking right back at her... and Rosaline's mouth lightly fell open.

"Gray...?"

"That's enough of a sign for me." With a grunt, Frannie sat up. "I'm going home."