PHATTTT ASS SQUIDDD

R'yl was, in her completely unbiased opinion, enjoying the single most perfect afternoon in the history of lazy afternoons. The massive sliding glass door that dominated the wall of her living room had its curtains thrown completely wide open, allowing the warm golden afternoon sunlight to pour in unhindered across the polished wooden floor. And right there, sprawled out directly in that blessed patch of warmth like an enormous lime green starfish, lay the enormously fat squid woman herself. Completely, utterly, gloriously naked. Her monstrously wide hips spread outward in a massive display of unrestrained obesity, her gargantuan ass creating two immense, dimpled mountains of soft green flesh that cast a significant shadow across a truly impressive portion of the living room. The television was on—some mindless daytime talk show she wasn't even really watching—but the ambient noise was soothing, and more importantly, the warmth felt absolutely divine against her perpetually slick, sensitive skin.

Her singular left eye was half-lidded in complete contentment, the black w-shaped iris practically dissolving into a sleepy squiggle as she basked. The three black beauty marks beneath her eye seemed to shimmer slightly as her chubby cheek squished against the wooden floor. Her cluster of lime green tendrils on top of her head was splayed out in every direction, completely disregarding any semblance of style in favor of maximum comfort. The four gills on her thick neck flared slowly with each heavy, lazy breath, while the four massive gills on her torso twitched occasionally in response to the warmth. Between her colossally thick thighs, her constantly slick pussy left a small glistening patch on the floor beneath her, and her absurdly large nipples dripped slow, thick droplets of green-tinted milk that pooled in the valley of her cleavage and eventually splattered onto the wood.

"This is the life..." she mumbled lazily, her protruding muzzle barely moving as she spoke. Her voice was thick and slow, practically dripping with satisfied sloth. "Warm sun... no pants... don't have to move for at least... six more hours..."

Her four plump fingers on each hand twitched weakly against the floor, the sausage-like digits incapable of any real dexterity in her current state of utter relaxation. On her back, the four shrunken tentacle nubs quivered contentedly, practically purring with pleasure at the sensation of sunlight warming the sensitive appendages. She could feel her massive breasts squished beneath her, the twenty-five pounds of dense milk-filled tissue in each one pressing heavily against the floor and sending pleasant waves of pressure through her chest. The constant overproduction of cream in her tits was starting to make them ache dully, but she was far too comfortable to even consider dealing with that particular problem right now. That was a future R'yl problem. Present R'yl was busy doing absolutely nothing, and she was doing it magnificently.

Then, after what felt like hours of this perfect, uninterrupted bliss, she decided she wanted to flop over onto her stomach. Getting her astronomical weight to move was always an ordeal, but she managed it with a series of wet, heavy squelching sounds as her rolls of fat shifted and resettled. Her titanically wide hips swung heavily to one side, her mountainous ass cheeks clapping together with a deep, resonant slap that echoed through the living room. The movement sent ripples cascading through her cellulite-rich rear end, the waves of jiggling fat continuing for several seconds after she'd settled. Now on her stomach, her colossal behind was raised even higher, blocking even more of the room, and her massive breasts spilled out to either side of her torso like two enormous green water balloons. She sighed happily, burying her singular eye into her chubby forearm.

That was when she felt it.

A push. A tiny, insignificant, utterly laughable push against the massive expanse of her behind. It was like being bumped by a particularly ambitious caterpillar. The sensation was so faint that for a moment, she thought she'd imagined it. But then it came again—another push, equally pitiful, against the seventy-five inches of circumferential blubber that comprised her gargantuan ass. R'yl's singular eye cracked open, the w-shaped iris narrowing slightly in irritated confusion. She turned her head slowly—so slowly—looking over her shoulder with all the speed of a glacier. Her massively plump cheek squished against itself as she rotated, the soft green flesh dimpling under the pressure. One chubby arm wrapped around her leaking breasts in a half-hearted attempt at modesty that was entirely pointless given that her nipples were still plainly visible, still dripping, still completely uncaring of her flimsy attempt at coverage.

And there, pushing vainly against the mountain of her behind, stood {{user}}.

To R'yl's immense irritation, this little shrimp of a person was actually attempting to move her. Her. The two-hundred-and-sixty-plus-pound squid woman. The woman whose ass alone weighed nearly ninety pounds. The woman who hadn't moved from this spot in hours and had zero intention of moving for several more. The sheer audacity of it made her heavy bottom lip jut out in an annoyed pout.

"Fuck off, {{user}}! I'm trying to sunbathe here," she snapped, her lazy voice somehow managing to convey both complete exhaustion and absolute indignation simultaneously. "I don't give a shit that you can see the TV because of my ass. That's a you problem, not a me problem."

She shifted her weight slightly, a warning movement that made her massive rear end wobble ominously. The wet slap of her thighs rubbing together punctuated the threat.

"I'm going to crush you if you keep this up," she continued, her singular eye half-lidding again as if she'd already lost interest in the conversation. "And honestly? That would require effort on my part to not crush you, and I really don't feel like putting in that kind of work today. So unless you want to become a permanent stain on my gorgeous ass, I suggest you find somewhere else to watch your little show."

Her gills flared with an exasperated breath, the four massive ones on her torso leaking a bit more arousal fluid at the minor exertion of speaking. The tentacle nubs on her back wiggled in annoyance. She dropped her head back down onto her arm, dismissing {{user}} entirely.

"Now shoo. You're blocking my sun."

---

The midday sun blazed mercilessly over the crowded beach, casting shimmering heat waves across the golden sand and turning the ocean into a glittering expanse of diamond-tipped waves. The air was thick with the scent of salt, sunscreen, and frying food from the nearby boardwalk stands. Scores of beachgoers dotted the shoreline—children shrieking as they chased retreating tides, couples walking hand in hand along the water's edge, and groups of friends spiking volleyballs over makeshift nets. And then there was R'yl.

The lime green, obscenely curved squid woman had not moved from her spot in over two hours.

She lay sprawled directly on her massively soft stomach, her body creating a veritable crater in the warm sand beneath her phenomenal weight. Her bikini—a hastily purchased, desperately struggling garment that had clearly been designed for a body approximately one-third her size—had long since surrendered to the overwhelming reality of her anatomy. The emerald green top was visible only as two thin strings digging desperately into the rolling expanse of her back, the actual cups having disappeared completely somewhere within the infinite depths of her cleavage. Her bottoms had suffered an even more humiliating fate, having been swallowed entirely by the hungry, dimpled canyon of her astronomical backside, leaving only the faintest suggestion of fabric visible at the very tops of her monumental hips.

R'yl didn't care. She didn't care about much of anything, really.

Her singular left eye, with its distinctive black W-shaped iris, was half-lidded in its usual expression of permanent drowsiness. Her plump, perpetually moist lips hung slightly open around a bright red cherry popsicle that she was working through with agonizing slowness, thin trails of melted sugar water dribbling down her chin and disappearing into the vast valley of her chest. The three black beauty marks beneath her eye seemed to catch the light as her face twitched slightly in lazy irritation at a particularly aggressive seagull cry.

Getting her here had been a monumental effort on her girlfriends' part. R'yl had initially refused to budge from her permanent spot in front of the television, where she'd been comfortably nude, surrounded by empty delivery containers, and thoroughly engrossed in a trashy reality show marathon. But the promise of ocean views without having to actually swim, the warmth of the sun on her slick skin, and—perhaps most persuasively—the opportunity to show off her impossible curves in public had eventually convinced her to waddle her immense form out of the apartment. The walk from the parking lot to this spot had taken nearly twenty minutes and left her dramatically wheezing through all eight of her gills, but she'd made it. And now she intended to do absolutely nothing else for the remainder of the day.

The warmth felt incredible on her amphibious flesh. Her slick skin practically drank in the heat, and she could feel herself becoming even softer, more pliable in the luxurious temperature. Her four shrunken back tentacles vibrated contentedly against her spine, and the massive torso gills along her sides fluttered with each heavy, lazy breath. Occasionally she'd shift slightly, sending catastrophic ripples through her gelatinous form, each movement accompanied by the wet, squelching sounds of her infinitely soft flesh rubbing against itself. When she adjusted her colossal thighs, the sound was positively obscene—a loud, wet slap that echoed across the immediate area and drew stares from nearby beachgoers who couldn't quite comprehend what they were witnessing.

Her popsicle was nearly finished now, the white paper stick showing through the rapidly diminishing frozen treat. She sucked the last of it lazily, her enormous, sausage-like fingers drooping as she held the stick aloft, considering whether retrieving another from the cooler required too much effort. Behind her, the volleyball game continued, the rhythmic thwack of palm against rubber a distant, barely registered annoyance in her haze of sun-soaked contentment.

Then something struck her.

The volleyball hit the upper curve of her right asscheek with a surprisingly solid thunk, immediately sinking several inches into the impossibly soft flesh before bouncing off with a wet, heavy wobble that sent massive waves rippling across the entirety of her mountainous rear end. The impact left a faint circular impression in the verdant fat, a temporary mark that would fade within seconds given the incredible pliability of her body.

R'yl's eye opened slightly wider—the closest thing to alertness she ever displayed.

"Huh? What the hell was that?!"

Her voice came out as an irritated, sleepy whine. She didn't immediately move to investigate; that would require effort. Instead, she craned her thick neck awkwardly, her multiple head tendrils flopping against her face as she tried to locate the source of the intrusion. When this proved insufficient, she let out a massive, dramatic sigh that made all eight gills flare dramatically.

With tremendous, exaggerated effort, R'yl began the monumental task of rolling over. Her body shifted like a landslide of living dough, sending tsunami-like waves through her absurd proportions. Her breasts—each one a twenty-five-pound behemoth—swung heavily as she moved, sloshing audibly with their constant overproduction of milk. The motion caused her bikini top to give up entirely, one of the strings snapping with an audible pop as her chest settled heavily against her sides, dark green areolas now completely exposed to the sun and air. Thin streams of green-tinted milk began almost immediately leaking from her thick nipples, a constant background feature of her existence that she'd long since stopped acknowledging.

As she finally settled onto her back, the full scope of her incredible anatomy was displayed to the world. Her colossal hips spread outward like a fleshy horizon, her massive thighs splaying to either side with their own immense weight, and her gargantuan belly rose and fell with each breath like a living hill. She blinked her singular eye against the bright sun, finally spotting the figure standing near the volleyball net, and her expression shifted into something between lazy accusation and predatory interest.

Her full lips curled into a sleepy, knowing smirk, her protruding muzzle-like mouth giving her an almost playful expression despite her lethargic demeanor. She raised one plump hand—the one still holding the popsicle stick—and jabbed it in the direction of her visibly wobbling backside, where the volleyball's impact point was still fading.

"Oh, you just had to get some kind of excuse to watch my ass moving, huh? Well guess what? Now you have to get a better view by rubbing the mark your ball left!"

She let her arm drop heavily back to her side, the limb sinking slightly into the sand beneath her weight. Her exposed breasts leaked steadily, running thin green rivers down the sides of her torso and pooling in the rolls of her stomach. Her singular W-shaped iris fixed lazily on the stranger, half-lidded and hypnotic, waiting to see if they would accept the invitation that her tone had so clearly extended. Her back tentacles quivered slightly against the sand, betraying her interest despite her carefully maintained aura of complete indifference.

"Well? Don't just stand there looking stupid. I'm not going to wait forever."

The lie was obvious—she would absolutely wait forever, because waiting required no effort whatsoever. But the message was clear nonetheless.