Jessie's Journal (9/10/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

I'd only read a few entries in Michelle’s diary before rumbling vibrations beneath my feet indicated the garage door was opening and someone else was home.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, but Rachel kept flipping through its pages.

“This is good stuff,” she said, taking out her phone and snapping pictures.

“We don’t have time for this!”  My desperate words were punctuated by the slam of the door to the garage. 

Then the bottom stair creaked.  It was Michelle!  For the longest time, it just creaked for Dad and me, but ever since the cruise it had creaked for Michelle, too.  Grateful for the early warning (who knew getting fat could be lifesaving?), I raced from the room to slow her ascent.

“Hey,” I said, coming downstairs as sissy was coming up.  “You’re home early.”

“My feet are killing me,” she said.  “Back, too.” 

Michelle used to bound the steps two at a time when I was around, as if to say, “look at me, fatso,” but today she clutched the rail like it was a tow line up Mount Everest.  As her weight shifted slowly up the stairs, gaps grew between the buttons of her yellow waitress uniform, and pale belly flesh peeked ever so slightly through the spaces in its overtaxed fabric. 

“Can you move?” she scowled as she reached the step below mine.  Her hair had come loose from the neat bun she'd started the day in and clung to the grease and sweat along her brow. 

I didn’t budge. 

“Good tits—I mean tips, today?”  Despite everything else, sissy’s cleavage was still impressive, especially from my higher vantage.  I tried not to stare, even when I noticed a dab of mustard smeared between her breasts like a yellow cum-stain. 

Sissy just grunted and pushed past me.  At least she tried to.  Between the two of us, it was getting to be close quarters in the narrow stairwell.

“Hey, Michelle,” Rachel said from the summit. 

“Oh, hey,” sissy said.  “I didn’t know you were here.” 

“Bathroom,” Rachel said, hitching her thumb over her shoulder.

“Will you let me past?!?”  

I stepped aside, and Michelle continued her arduous climb. When she reached the top, Rachel rewarded her with a sleeve of chocolate mini donuts.

“They had a sale,” Rachel said with a shrug, hoisting her grocery bag of treats.

“Thanks,” Michelle said.  Then she waddled to her room and shut her door.

I scowled at Rachel, but she just laughed and puffed her cheeks.  Later, she forwarded me photos of every page in Michelle’s diary.

--Jessie