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Gayle approached the door tentatively, the two years of separation between her and what was beyond the threshold eating away at her fragile confidence. 'Two years,' she thought, 'hasn't seen me, hasn't seen anyone outside of her staff.'
Gayle tapped the door lightly; “Oprah?” she called out, “It's Gayle.”
“No Gayle,” that familiar voice replied, “it's not going to happen.” Gayle predicted this would occur and was prepared for it.
“Don't be like that, O. Come on, we've known each other for over half our lives, doesn't that count for anything?”
“I...I just can't Gayle; not now, not ever.”
“Dammit Oprah, it's been far too long, now you let me into that room or I'll force myself in. I don't care what's happened to you, I just want to hang out and chat like old times.”
Silence followed. Gayle was unsure how to proceed, but, even if it was only an act, she needed to be the assertive one or else O would never get better.
She entered the room. Their time spent apart had prepared Gayle for what she thought she would see, but still she couldn't have expected this. There, lying on a King-size bed, was Oprah, now over 210 – no, 220 – pounds. She had given up the show that made her a star years ago to try and finally conquer her eating problems. Clearly, it was a battle she did not win.
“Oh Oprah, Oprah honey.” Gayle whispered upon seeing her best friend in tears, “It doesn't matter how you look, you're still the same amazing person.”
“No!” Oprah cried, “It's not the same! How can I be the same person when I've become a hideous beast? I can't look in the mirror, I detest myself.”
Gayle knew it would come to this, she was prepared to do anything to help her friend. She approached the bedside, looking Oprah directly in her tear-enlargened eyes.
“Oprah Gall Winfrey, you are the most beautiful human being I know.”
Gayle thrust her tongue into Oprah's mouth, massaging every nook and cranny of her mouth. Oprah put up surprisingly little resistance, and returned her kiss soon enough. The moistness of each others mouths fuelling the other, making them all the more energetic. Gayle began massaging O under her shirt, there were so many layers of skin and fat, 'all the more to explore' she thought. Skilfully, Gayle unhooked Oprah's bra and began working her nipple, her breasts were so much bigger now. Oprah finally broke free of the kiss and was moaning uncontrollably.
“Holy shit Gayle...” was all that she could say, the ecstasy of her friends touch paralysing her speech. Gayle removed Oprah's top and buried her face in O's chest. Each skin fold, each cellulite ridden lump, each fatty corpuscle, it was all there to be explored – no, worshipped. Gayle didn't expect to get so excited by Oprah's body, but now that it was in front of her, she found it impossible to control herself. Eagerly, she bit, licked, sucked every piece of flesh that she could find, and there was certainly no shortage of it. All Oprah could do during this time was lie there and bathe in pleasure. She hadn't climaxed in almost 2 and a half years, but juices long absent were flowing freely.
Gayle moved on to the lower part of O's body, expertly pulling down her pants and underwear. She was met with more pubic hair than she had ever seen, male or female. Obviously Oprah hadn't payed much attention to this part of her body for quite some time. It was also abundantly clear that Oprah had not bathed in quite a few days at least, with an unidentifiable smell consuming her. This did not phase Gayle in the slightest; instead, 'the musk of O', she thought to herself, 'it's gorgeous.' Without hesitation, she dived into the fetid pubic forest head first. After searching through various skin folds and fatty over-hangings, she found the holy grail; eagerly, she gave it the attention of which it had lacked for so long. Gayle had expected things to be a bit drier down there, but the sudden onslaught of sexuality must have unleashed a previously untapped water supply within Oprah as it was just as moist, if not more, than her own.
Oprah was at breaking point. She tried arching her back, but found herself unable to lift her sizable figure. But it didn't matter, for the first time in many years, she was attaining a joy thought long dead.
But, of course, this was not the end. Over the next few hours, the two best friends continued to explore each other. Gayle found Oprah's new body to be utterly incredible; every lump, fold, dimple, it all amazed her, and Oprah, for the first time in her life, was beginning to see Gayle as not only beautiful person, but as a beautiful body.
“Thank you so much Gayle. I'm not a beast, I'm a woman.”
“A foxy woman at that.”
The two would reunite on a regular basis until, eventually, Oprah re-emerged in the public eye, where she showed to the world that, yes, she was large, but also a satisfied woman.