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The wind blowing briskly inland from the west tasted lightly of salt from passing over the San Francisco Bay. The patio built snuggly into the hills overlooking the city of Oakland below would become festooned with drifting leaves over the course of the coming night, but then it was hardly Pricilla's concern.

The sun warmed her face and shoulders while the rest of her floated languidly below the surface of the pool. The afternoon heat was well welcome with the chilly wind blowing in off the ocean. It was late in the year for swimming - her brown coat already fluffing off copiously to reveal her new, luxurious white coat underneath - but to Pricilla, the water was too much of a luxury to do without. She breathed a sigh, relishing the salty tang in the air and stoking past memories of the beach she never visited anymore. Then she tip-toed across the length of the pool. Every step was easy, a precious gift nowadays with her landbound mobility what it was. With the water supporting her bulk, it was the only time that she could forget. In fact, as Pricilla moved lazily around the pool, she imagined herself some sort of marine mammal, graceful in her natural element of the sea; despite the fact that she was far too buoyant to dive.

Really, however, the only resemblance to a marine mammal that Pricilla had was the thick layering of blubber coating her body. She'd spent a lifetime growing it, and it showed. Pricilla Ruthering Blacklake weighed many times over her proper weight; so much, in fact that it was difficult to walk on land without assistance. In the water, her thighs still touched all the way down to the knee and glided smoothly over each other's roundness. The vast belly which normally rested heavily below her knees floated freely below the water's surface, a vast dome projecting a fair distance in front of her. The relief of having the massive weight of her paunch lifted free of her thighs, cool water flowing freely over normally cloistered skin, alone was worth entering the water. Not only Pricilla's head and shoulders were supported above the water. A massive pair of breasts, each larger and much heavier than her head, continually schemed to float before her, a loose red cloth top providing no support to the massive mammaries. Every so often, Pricilla pushed them down under the water as the fur on her chest dried in the open, breezy air. All over her body, creases and folds in her flesh normally stagnant and airless were aerated by the perfectly conditioned water. Despite the chill in the air, it was not a pastime that Pricilla could see herself doing without. Even in the dead of winter, she would be down here, floating to escape the weight of her own body. She was out here more and more often it seemed.

Pricilla rested her broad, fatty back against the side of the pool. She threw an arm over the side to rest; two would have been impossible given the depth of the fat padding behind her. She took a few deep breaths and contemplated the fact that her physician told her repeatedly that she should exercise while she was in the pool. And also that 'floating around' did not qualify as real exercise. Of course, Pricilla had little but contempt for the family doctor and his now quarterly visits. He'd done nothing but harangue her about her weight since she was a teenager. It was annoying in the extreme, though it wasn't like she could exactly hide around the manor house each time he came around like she once did.

As she floated, her head at about knee-height about the ground, Pricilla took the opportunity to spy on a man who was currently tending to one of the many shrubs around the well landscaped backyard. He was not one of her personal assistants, but that was exactly the point. Pricilla found most of the people around the house who helped her with her day to day affairs (mostly just getting around the house nowadays) to be deathly boring. The young man holding the shears did not seem boring at all just at this moment.

He was coyote for one thing, shirtless for two. The muscles in his back rippled under his scrabbly unkempt fur as he worked. Pricilla could almost smell the tang of his sweat. His young, well sculpted body was certainly appreciative, from the emphasize shoulder blades to the trim waist where a tattered set of blue jeans was held up by a worn leather belt. Pricilla wasn't sure, but she didn't think he spoke english. After a few minutes of staring at his back, however, Pricilla grew bored when he didn't turn.

With the side of her bloated body pressing the wall of the pool, Pricilla stepped out with a foot and floated back towards the middle. As good as it felt, floating in the pool inevitably grew boring as well, as it was now. She yawned and backpedalled until her toes brushed against the bottom of the pool again. Besides the fact that the water was not enough in itself to hold her scant, haughty interests, it also made her hungry. And Pricilla found hunger, of all other urges to be nigh irresistible.

Pricilla waded into the shallows, trying to keep the majority of her bulk under the water for as long as possible. There used to be a time when she could walk with her knees near her chest all the way to the wide stairs leading out of the pool. Now, however, the girth of her torso got in the way of many of her past contortions. As a stoat, her torso was long, but weighing in excess of half a ton, it was now rendered little more flexible than a rhino's. When her knees began pushing into the underside of her massively protruding gut, Pricilla lurched forward, her legs floating up behind her. A wide back of molting brown fur was exposed like a rising island to the chilly air. Her longish tail waved and dripped over her thighs, its base holding up her mostly invisible bottom whose long cords were buried in the crease under her love handles. The elongated triangle of red fabric covered her extremely generous crack to an ambiguous point where ass became pressed-together thighs.

She drifted forward until her belly began to rub against the bottom of the pool. Pricilla was still a fair distance away from the stairs and this point grew more distant year after year. Now things got difficult. The water was two feet deep at the base of the stairs, a design flaw that Pricilla criticized more and more over the last two years. Her body had grown so thick that the length of her arms was just adequate to reach the bottom where her bare tummy was grinding against the rough floor of the pool. She lifted herself a few inches and pushed herself forward. The amount of belly in contact with the floor increased. She did this several more times until her gut rested pretty heavily against the bottom of the pool; more back flesh was exposed to the increasing wind, much to the stoat's chagrin. When her breasts pressed against the bottom of the pool, Pricilla had to call it quits. Her upper arm strength was feeble at best, not nearly adequate for the punishing task of lifting even a portion of her bulk out of the water. She rolled and floundered a bit until she was kneeling on the floor; the fact that her belly still touched the ground in front of her did not escape her attention.