Deedee’s Holiday
V
After two weeks in Barcelona, we flew to Venice, then Rome. We worked our way north as the weather got warmer. I wanted to try to make it to Munich for Oktoberfest, but that was still months away, and things were going so well, I didn’t want to jinx it. When neither of us was working, we went on guided tours, visited museums, and saw live music. The Trevi Fountain and St. Mark’s Basilica were incredible—sights so impressive I almost forgot I was sharing them with a walking, talking work of art.
Every place we went had great food, of course, and Delia relished every bite. Being with her nearly all the time, it was easy to miss the changes. But every so often, when she was down by the pool and I had a few moments to spare, I’d pull out my phone and scroll through Deedee’s posts. If I opened her Insta and swiped through the last few months of photos, I could see her getting smaller as I went further back in time.
Delia seemed oblivious to it, but I guessed she’d put on at least ten to fifteen pounds since we met. Most of it went to her chest, but her hips had gotten a little wider, and her ass a little fuller. Still, whenever we went out to eat or got delivery to our room, she ordered a full, hearty entree. I didn’t comment on it, and neither did she. Without so much as an “I shouldn’t have ordered so much” or an “I really need to cut back,” she simply dug into every dish, humming and chewing, sometimes even doing a wiggly little dance.
I kept waiting for her to notice. To get dressed for a photoshoot and discover that a bra or top wouldn’t fit. To go through her photos or videos from the day’s session and realize she was spilling out of her bikini. It was like that eerie, green-skied calm before a thunderstorm. I felt certain that one of these days, she’d find out she was gaining weight and freak out. She’d blame me, for sure. This whole “endless vacation” thing had been my idea, after all.
I could see the whole argument play out in my head. Deedee would get upset, naturally. She’d find out I’d been a fan before we met. That we’d only met because I’d been lowkey stalking her. Hell, I don’t know if it even was lowkey. She’d probably think I’d only picked that hotel in Ibiza because I knew she was there. I wasn’t, I’d tell her; it was a total coincidence. And I suggested the vacation thing because I liked her, because we got along so well and had so much fun together. It wasn’t like I was picking where we ate or ordering food for her. How could any of that be my fault?
When I was with her, though, I forgot about all that. It was more than just Delia’s incredibly sexy—and getting sexier by the day—body, but her seemingly boundless energy, her ability to pull me out of my deepest doom-spirals with a few words and a smile. If our flight got delayed, she’d grin and say that just meant we could have lunch at the airport bar. If a hotel pool was closed for cleaning, she’d find a park we could go to instead. It was simply impossible for me to be frustrated or upset or annoyed for more than a few minutes when she was around. Which is to say nothing about how much better my nights had gotten.
Delia straddled my hips, rocking her body slowly as she slid a big pink strap in and out of me. I loved this position. When she slid back, her thighs rubbed against my hips and her ass bumped my knees, and I got to watch all the self-satisfied faces she made as her eyes watched me get closer. When she drove into me, her back arched, that softening tummy flattened out and her face disappeared behind those massive tits. All of that would have been enough to get me off, but I couldn’t just lie there with all that thrusting and jiggling and wobbling happening right on top of me. Delia held my waist for leverage, while my hands explored. Every line and curve, every hill and valley, I wanted to memorize every part of her, every inch, every detail. Especially because I knew it would change. In another month, those thighs would be thicker, that tummy would be softer, and those perfectly huge twins that bounced and jostled and tried to escape my grip would be even huger. Yeah, that’s not a word; shut up.
“Dee…” I gasped.
Delia increased her rhythm, ever so slightly, leaning into my grip. It was as if her breasts were trying to squeeze further into my hands. I found her nipples, stiff and engorged. I grabbed both between thumb and index finger, and she gasped. With the next thrust, they tried to slide out of my hold, but I pinched tighter, making Delia’s gasps rise in pitch.
“Nik—Nikki…”
The sound of my name coming from the lips of this goddess was almost more than I could take. She reached a hand between us and thumbed my clit, and stars swam in my vision as I came.
As I ran down, Delia collapsed onto me, making it harder to breathe as her hips and belly and all that boob crushed me further into the mattress. She moved to roll off, but I wrapped my arms around her, pinning her on top of me. I lifted my head to nibble her lower lip, tasting the sweet traces of Penne alla Vodka. Our kisses got faster, deeper, and when her tongue started hungrily exploring mine, I rolled us over until she was on her back.
“Your turn,” I whispered.
I melded my body to her side, trailing kisses down her neck and collarbone, slowly rising up the mound of one breast. With my mouth distracting her, I slid my leg languidly across hers, up and down. I stretched to reach her left nipple with my mouth and teased the other with my left hand, leaving my right free to trail down her stomach and between her legs. Every touch brought a different gasp and whimper from Delia’s lips, and I loved trying to get as many of them going as I could. When my fingers slipped inside her, Delia’s body started to twitch and shudder. She might have raised her ass off the bed if I weren’t pinning her down. Her hips shuddered, aching to press herself harder against my hand, forcing my fingers deeper. Instead, I teased, pinching and sucking and stroking and tickling, keeping her right at the edge of release. Delia made a beautiful symphony of sounds—pleasure and surprise and longing and need—and I played her body like an instrument.
“Nikki… please…” She whimpered.
She’d had enough, and I was too spent from my own release to egg her on for much longer anyway. I stroked inside her in the way I knew she wanted, while circling one areola with the edge of my short nails and using my teeth on the other nipple. Delia’s gasps and whimpers stopped as her whole body clenched. She made no sound except for the ghost of a cry from deep in her throat. I carried her through the climax until it started to subside, then rolled off of her onto my back.
After catching her breath, Delia asked, “How are you so fuckin’ good at that?”
I rolled back into her, resting my head on her shoulder and cupping her breasts under my arm. “You’re very… motivating.”
“Is this that ‘giving a hundred and ten percent’ you Americans are always going on about?”
A snorting laugh slipped out of me, and I kissed her cheek. “With a little more practice, I bet I could get it to one-fifteen.”
She turned her head to return my kiss. “You can practice on me as much as you want.”
We cuddled together as our bodies relaxed, then I said, “I think I want something sweet before movie time. Gelato?”
“God, it’s like you’re inside my head.”
Okay, fine. I wasn’t not encouraging her to indulge.
***
Over the next month, I started helping Deedee with her content.
“You attach the file here, the caption goes here, and you can check which apps you want to post it to.”
“Nice!”
“One thing it can’t do is autocomplete ats from your accounts, but it has a favorites list where you can add accounts you at a lot, like Sapphire.”
For a split second, I worried I’d given myself away by naming her most frequent sponsor, but Delia said, “Oh, I didn’t think of that. Good catch.”
What was I thinking? I’ve seen her unbox packages from Sapphire at least half a dozen times since we started traveling together. “There are even tag sets if you have any hashtags you use a lot.”
That comment was a little more strategic; I knew full well which hashtags she frequently used.
“Smart.”
“That’s not even the best part,” I said with a smirk. “There are date pickers here, so you can schedule when you want it to actually post. As long as you keep the app running, it’ll post things on that schedule.”
Delia leaned down to peer at her laptop on the desk in front of me. The move pressed her incredible breasts into my shoulders. They were truly huge by then—the last time I peeked at one of her bra tags, it read 34L. “Hold up. So I can schedule stuff all at once instead of getting on to post every day?”
“Yup.”
She hugged me, and I reflexively grabbed her forearms over my chest. They were definitely softer than they’d been a few months ago. “Oh my god, Nikki, you’re amazing!”
A little short of breath from her crushing embrace, I said, “I thought you might like that. Now we’ll have more time to explore and do shoots.”
Her hands traveled along my sides, and she pressed a kiss to my jaw. “You’re the best! I should just hire you as my manager.”
“I’m not sure –ha– you can afford me…”
Her breath hot in my ear, Delia whispered, “How about an exchange of… services?”
I spun the office chair around, making her crash into me front-to-front. Delia stumbled off her feet, but I grabbed her meaty thighs and pulled her into my lap. Her rump overflowed my lap and her soft tummy pressed against mine, but all I saw in the space between us were mind-blowingly fat tits.
“Deal.”
***
“Where do you wanna go after Munich?”
I opened my eyes, squinting against the French Riviera sun, and looked at her. Like me, Delia lounged in a deck chair. She had her phone in one hand and an Eden-Roc Splash in the other. Her breasts sat so full and round on her chest that they cast a shadow on the bottom half of her face. There was so much lightly tanned skin on display that I had to look away. The last thing I needed was to get my own bikini bottoms damp.
“Maybe Dublin? Keep the beer theme going.”
“Hmm… That’ll be getting into the low season up there; might be cold.”
“We can check the forecast,” I said. “It’s not like it’ll be winter. What if we just do a week, then start heading back south?”
“Good call. If we like it, we can always go back for St Paddy’s next year.”
Next year. I hadn’t dared to think that far ahead. I mean, sure, I kept waiting for my dream life to come crashing down, but if Delia was already thinking about plans for seven months from now…
“Hey, are you nik95?”
I couldn’t lie. There was at least one selfie on my Instagram. “Yeah… why?”
“I saw you in my likes. I can’t believe I’m not following you back yet.”
My blood ran cold. Delia brought the phone closer to her face, squinting in the sun. “Wait…”