>Put an ad in the local paper that you're looking for a roommate since your last one, a falling-down-drunk skips another payment and you have him booted
>A bunch of weirdos show up, same as always, rarely with proof of income and those that do are usually weird and likely to be rapists or octopi in disguise
>The usual "Thank you for your time. I'll call you up if you got the room."
>The day is winding down, you've seen at least forty people judging by your note-pad
>Gonna lock the door for the day when you get one last knock, a simple double-tap
>Open the door with the cut and dry plastered-smiled "Hello, I'm Anon, nice to me-"
>Standing in the doorway is a woman of such comically extreme proportions and size, her titanic tits fill the upper portion of the doorway, her obscenely oversized body filling the rest of your view
>Her outfit is a cow-print bikini plus arm sleeves and leggings + Cow bell, ears and.. tail?, showing off a fucking ton of pale-green flesh all over
>"M-moo?"
>You respond in a moderate stutter to come in
>Sit down, she takes a seat in the kitchen chair you set across from the couch
>The chair just utterly explodes under her titanic bum
>Doesn't even flinch as her fat ass flops onto the floor
>Just sits there staring at you for a while until you ask if she has a job
>She produces an entire resume from between here titanic tits and hands it to you, holding this genuine, gentle smile as she settles back in
>She's a lab technician at some genetics plant just outside of town with four + years of experience and a whole list of other things and skills
>Single, 22 years old
>"Okay, so, I just have one question: Can you say anything besides moo?"
>"M-m-moo-o~.."
>A sad, drawn-out noise emits from her mouth, now turned in a slight frown
>You set the portfolio down, stand up, walk around the coffee table, pat this titan on the head, her face eye-level with yours while sitting on here overblown ass
>And say "That's fine. You got the room."
>A look of pure joy fills here face as she grabs you with both arms about the waist and drags you into a bear hug, smooshing you thoroughly between her extreme assets

>The day after meeting Anonymoo and taking her on as a roommate
>She brought all her stuff, which was mostly spare outfits and a few (too many xs to properly count) sweaters and the like
>That's excluding the last four boxes which was all vidya consoles, games, and a damn good PC (taking up the last cardboard crate on its own)
>While she doesn't exactly travel light, she has her priorities straight and knows how to pack
>After helping her unpack, which repeatedly ended up with her mashing those absurd mammaries of hers against your back to put something on the wall or into the closet almost like you weren't even there
>That is to say, she just got focused on whatever she was doing, oblivious to what was around her, probably due to those view-obscuring mountains
>Her new room, whose door-frame was also far too small for her (how she manages to force her bulk through it without bursting the frame is a sight to behold, like that of a master contortionist moving through it in a single, fluid motion) was across the way from your room, separated by the joint kitchenette and living room in a relatively spacious area with a grand view of the city out the front window
>Anyway, after unpacking all her crap, you offer to make lunch for the two of you, which is met with a moo that borders on a gentle, happy trill
>So you make breakfast instead while she chills on the couch, her gallons of ass filling out ~2/3s of the poor old sofa, the sounds of Dead Space 1 echo from the TV as she is busy blowing apart Necromorphs and the like
>Before calling that lunch is ready, you consider that she'd probably obliterate two seats at the dining island that separates the kitchenette and the living room in the process and instead just bring her a plate heaped fully with eggs, strips of bacon and sausage-links stuck into it
>You set it on the coffee table along with a fork and knife
>Setting the controller down next to her plate, she heaves it up, lets out another pleasant moo and begins chowing down
>You meander back and pile up a bit for yourself
>By the time you return, however, she's cleaned her plate and is holding it out, presumably for seconds since the silverware is lodged firmly between her two canyonous orbs
>A little pale, you hand her yours and head back to make proper seconds
>You watch her devour the meager portion, by comparison to hers, in no time at all, horfing entire links in that modest little maw of hers
>Finally, you return with a proper plate to feed her ravenous tummy, to which she moos, more gentle, almost sultry, this time
>When you finally sit down with her to have your portion, she's only about halfway through, seeming to take her time with this set
>By the time you finish your plateful, so has she, letting out a little burp as her plate hits the coffee table
>Drawing herself backwards, she settles into a very relaxed position, "modest" belly poking out for all the world to see that it's full, modest solely by comparison to the absurdity of her other curves, cause it is definitely a gut by normal standards
>Before you know what's happening, she's passed out and slumped over you, huge honkers pressing down on you awkwardly
>You'd try to escape from this flesh prison, but before you can do so, she rolls over and you are properly engulfed in her meaty form, pinned between a couch and a soft place
>As expected, your manhood is also at full attention, somewhere just under her navel, but you have no hope of doing anything about it
>The rest of the day is spent with your face against a gentle snoring green-skinned cow-girl who is more akin to a behemoth of jiggling flesh
>At least it's warm, cause the landlord is very stingy with heating in this chilly December weather
Apartment Layout: http://i.imgur.com/icOJxk0.png

>Let's fast-forward 6 days
>It's laundry day
>Over the past few days, you've learned some.. interesting things
>Moo spends a LONG time in the bathroom 1-2 times a day, releasing an ungodly amount of forcibly held-back moos for some unknowable reason
>Neighbor has complained a few times, but they're cowed into silence when a hulking titan of soft-green looms behind me
>Moo spends an ~8 hour shift from noon until 8 at night working wherever the hell
>You know this because she leaves you notes on the kitchenette's island about what happened after you left for the office and before she left, always signed at noon with time-stamp
>Turns out she's quite eloquent in her written verse as well
>Of course, when she walks through the door in that weird way of hers, it's always with a happy or a worn-out moo before collapsing on the poor sofa, which has rapidly begun to fall apart under her colossal bulk
>Back on topic, Saturday in December, laundry day
>Moo walks out like she does every morning, around 10 in the morning with a tired, drawn out mooo~
>Today, however, she's not wearing a top
>And her usual cow-print panties have been replaced with a pair of super-jumbo plaid boxers that are bursting at the seams, the front flap showing off a decent window of her hairless pubic-bone
>You tell her it's laundry day, to which she groggily responds with another moo as she wanders into the kitchen looking for her coffee cup, which is actually more of an ale tankard in size
>She pours out the entire coffee pot into her jug before power-chugging the whole damn thing
>When it comes down, she looks energized, that question mark on her face, going from droopy to a perfect shape once more in a single instant
>Moo~~, she seems ready to start the day
>"Gather up all your dirty clothes, we're heading down to the laundromat"
>A few minutes later, she's amassed her pile of cow-print bikinis in a little basket, hefting her titanic tits up with it
>You ask if she has any other tops to wear, to which she blinks a few times before realizing she is topless, dropping her basket and trying desperately to hide her engorged mountains, blushing profusely
>She ducks into her room and in mere moments, returns, having donned an exceptionally large sweater that managers to cover up her tits and ass in a single garment, but just barely, her meat-flanks poking out while she's standing tall
>You're salivating a little just looking at her, but suppress that for now
>The two of you make your way down to the laundry room, via the stairs, cause the last time Moo took the elevator, it buckled and almost gave-way beneath her weight
>The place is almost empty, save the land-lady (a 50-some-odd crone), her kids (all in their 20s and 30s except for little Jasminka, who is only 10), and Machu Picchu, the local crack dealer whom everyone mostly ignores since he always donates a sizable sum to any fundraisers in the area
>There's also that creepy girl whose eyes follow you around the room even when you're behind her, you can just feel them watching, but she's on her way out, waiting for the titanic bulk of Moo to get out of the way, and squeezing by her right bum-cheek at the first opportunity
>Tossing all your whites into the last washer, you settle against the wall, watching Moo try and fail at stuffing her clothes in until she gets on her hands and knees, ass mashing against the poor landlady in full-force, placing the garments within and shutting the lid
>You can't help but chuckle at the comedy of it as Marie (the landlady) goes stock-still, rammed between two titanic ass-cheeks that are liable to suffocate her
>Her kids are looking on and laughing their asses off at the spectacle
>Moo finally rights herself before planting her butt on top of both your machine and hers with a triumphant smirk on her face
>Miraculously, the washing machines don't even flinch at the added bulk atop them
>Time passes, the landlady and her kids finish their loads and meander out, mixed looks of abject horror and gleeful laughter at the audacity of it all
>Moo's been playing with her phone for a while with the sound off and you haven't bothered to check what (It's Battle Cats if you're curious)
>Your laundry bleeps, followed by hers
>Trade out whites for colors and toss your socks and that one hideous sweater with the reindeer on it in the dryer
>Similar to before, Anonymoo gets on all fours, picks up her sopping-wet bikinis, shuffles around, and tosses them in the dryer adjacent to mine
>Before hauling herself back onto the washing machines
>The white noise is relaxing
>Not long after, a cacophony of beeps erupt from the machines, you pack up your whites, dry your colors, while Moo chucks all her bikinis back into her little basket
>She sits around patiently, waiting for your last load to finish up, the laundromat is empty, so you decide to be a little brazen and sit up on your washing machine, crammed slightly between her hip and the wall, eliciting a gentle moo
>Anonymoo holds up her phone to you all of a sudden and you read off on her note-pad, "Can we go have lunch after this?"
>To which you respond "Of course!"
>Back to her and back to you, the phone goes "Chick-Fil-A?"
>You nod happily as your clothes finish
>The two of you wander back up to the apartment and put away all your stuff
Laundry Room Layout: http://i.imgur.com/ASiRwuI.png

Anyway, it's lunch time, Saturday in December!
>Back in her usual bikini garb, Moo seems raring to go feast
>The idea that this is basically a date hits you at this point, but you suppress it since Moo is hopping about, giddy as a newborn calf, but several times larger and causing floor tremors
>You lead the way, taking time to ensure she manages to fit through the poor door-frames, out into the hall, down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the chilly slightly-after-mid-day weather
>While she may be walking down the street happily, it's clear she's damn cold judging by the way her bikini top is tenting so fervently
>Either way, it's a gentle stroll down the way before squeezing her titanic tush into a little Chick-Fil-A tucked into the bank of shops, stores, and eateries, perverted and jealous looks flying Moo's way constantly, while she remains blissfully ignorant
>You follow in after your cowtanic roommate and find she's just standing by the counter while the guy behind it is rattling off a massive list of stuff
>Listening in as you get close by your Moo, "a half dozen large fries, two chicken salads, 2 large drinks, and a double bacon chicken burger with onion?"
>You finally realize the list is Moo's phone
>"Moo." She says in a super-serious tone, handing him a credit card that seemed to materialize from betwixt her titanic titties
>To which the dude behind the counter grins, returns the phone and card, and says "Coming right up, Anonymoo! I don't know how you always eat this much junk!"
>"And how may I help you, sir?"
>You respond, asking for a double bacon chicken burger plain with extra cheese, you hand him exact payment in cash
>He grins and tells you it'll be right out
>Moo has settled herself into a few spots at the back where they have an exceptionally long booth-seat spanning the width of the place and is faffing about on her phone
>You settle into one of the regular chairs across from her and ask just how much she ordered
>She looks up, sets her phone down, and lets out a drawn-out moo as she holds her hands out as wide as the table and the one to your left, approximately
>You have a feeling you may be here a while
>Not long after that, a young women in uniform starts bringing platters of food on back
>You are boggled by the sheer volume of food being laid out, especially when compared to your meager burg
>And Moo just starts shoveling, tits heaving to and fro in her poor top as she reaches for this and that, long swigs of soda, piles of fries, gingerly plucking chunks of salad and chicken with a fork..er
>4 forks at once in different piles of stuff, 1 between each set of fingers in her right hand
>Looking around, people have actually stopped eating to watch the spectacle of this towering colossus of green meat gorge herself
>You haven't even touched your burger yet now that you think about it, absently picking it up and taking a tender bite
>Her stomach is starting to make its presence known, pushing up against the table gently, visible when her tits heave too far to the side and/or upwards
>And still more edibles are pouring out of the kitchen
>She's starting to slow down just a little, savoring the medley of shit she's forcing into her plump maw
>By the time you finish your snack, which is quite filling, honestly, she's starting on the last of her bottomless feast as the loads have stopped coming in and only dishes are going back now
>Before long, she's done too and lets out a contented "moo~" having left only a couple fries on her platter, which you scoop up with a dab of ketchup, she doesn't object
>At any rate, as she leans back, it's clear she's full by the fact her stomach is pushing quite roughly into the table, to the point that said table scoots back from the pressure
>Heaving her bulk up awkwardly, Moo leads the way out
>You spy the guy at the counter, Jeff, filling out an emergency supplies request form
>You expect she'll pass out on the couch at home

>As expected, when you managed to finally get her home, she passed out on the sofa, without you under her this time
>And also as expected, the sofa is unhappy bearing the weight of this green meat maiden, letting out creaks with every breath she takes, back bowing at an awkward angle beneath her right tit
>You're also feeling a bit drowsy to be totally honest and decide to join dear Moo, hefting up each of her legs and nestling under at the far left end of the couch, they make great insulators
>Before you know it, the allure of sleep has taken you at only 2 in the afternoon
>When next you awake, the moon has taken residence out your front window and Moo is nowhere to be seen, the lights are all off
>Except for her bathroom, both doors are a touch ajar, muffled "Moo" noises are echoing from the room
>Being only half-awake, you forget that "privacy" is a concept and wander into her room, peeking into the wash-closet to one helluvah sight
>Moo is kneeling over the bath-tub/shower combo and forcing huge streams of milk out of her massively over-blown tits, which look a good bit bigger than usual at present, a pained "moo.." exiting her mouth with every squeeze
>Without even really thinking, you push the door open a bit and step in, coming up behind poor Moo, who is approximately eye-level with you while on her knees like this (if she were not also bending over the tub)
>She's totally oblivious to the pervert (you) coming up behind her
>Even as you stand, shins pressed into her rump, hands reaching down, she remains unaware
>Only when you finally grab hold of the underside of her heaving tits, a kiss planted between her shoulder blades does she realize you're there, jumping up with a moo of surprise and bowling you down onto the floor in the process, milk flying everywhere
>More than a little dazed, you are vaguely aware of being pushed into her bedroom and more moos echoing through the now shut and locked door
>Soon after, or was it a while?, you recognize a door opening, being picked up and smooshed against the underside of a pair of huge green orbs, and being set on the couch
>The next thing you know, it's morning and your phone is absolutely-fucking-exploding with messages in your pocket
>Whipping it out, you see they are all from a contact labelled "Moo" (You suppose that because you invaded her privacy, she invaded yours and put her contact in there)
>You respond as best you can, getting up and looking over at her shut door
>But she doesn't come out
Text 1: http://i.imgur.com/HdlY5wn.png
>So you go and knock
>A moo, more annoyed than angry, echoes out, so you assume that means "come in"
>You open the door and she's just sitting on her bed, staring at the wall, the scent of fresh milk wafts from the bathroom, indicating she's been milking herself all night
>The computer chair is positioned in front of her and she gestures for you to take it
>You settle in, unsure of what to say and just stare at her awkwardly
>In response, she whips out her phone and begins typing out what she wants to say instead of playing Moos and Charades
>While it may not be the best time, you find it quite arousing the way her hands compress those titanic orbs while she's texting angrily
>Having gotten her message, you calmly say "I am sorry. I didn't know what I was really doing, having just woken up and I meant no harm. I will stay out unless you invite me from now on."
>And just like that, Moo puts on her happy face, hops up, and wraps you in a huge bear-hug of bone-crushing potential
>And then you're seated at the island while Moo is cooking up.. something
>Turns out it's breakfast with eggs, sausage, bacon, and a glass of.. milk?
>"Wait, aren't we out of milk?"
>Moo, standing next to you while she eats her egg mountain, looks over with a deep blush, soft smile, and a gentle "Moo..."
>You down the glass and tell her, "Well, your milk is delicious cow-gal"
>She just holds the blush and soft smile, it's hard to tell what she's thinking
>You return to your modest pile of eggs and so does she
>It's hard to tell where things are going, but you think you'll like it
Texts 2: http://i.imgur.com/IIZBgdF.png

>It's Monday, time for another week of slaving away for a pay-check
>Enjoy a cup of dark-roast and get ready for the day
>You're just about ready when you hear Moo trouncing about
>Peek around the corner of your bedroom door just in case there's a pair of war-balloons coming around the corner to mow you down
>She's already in the kitchen having her morning chug of liquid energy
>You call out and let Moo know you'll be back later today
>A muffled moo followed by a light howl of discomfort from trying to talk through hot coffee echos behind you as you shut the door, pushing it back open to ensure she's alright like you did every day last week
>Sure enough, she's panting and mooing while guzzling water from the gallon jug in the fridge
>And you're off to work
>We'll skip another uneventful day and pick up back at the apartment
>Waltzing in, the home is dead as always with one of Moo's notes on the counter
>There's just a generic sad face emote on it ":(" and "Sorry."
>You wonder what she's sorry about, wandering over to the fridge to start prepping something to feast on later with Anonymoo and her ever-insatiable appetite
>With the pots on the stove boiling and the pasta added, you sit down for a few minutes on the couch in your usual spot
>Looking over at the massive, permanent indentation in it, however, you spy something.. very unexpected
>Your old DS and your custom-paint N64 controller
>But they're flat as a pancake
>You know the DS is yours too because it's the same classic blue with that weird scratch on the side
>To say you are mad is an understatement
>That shit had deep sentimental value from your childhood and early adulthood
>And the DS was in your room, so how the fuck did it get under a giant cow-girl's ass!?
>You text the heifer who won't be off for another 2 hours "WHAT. THE. FUCK."
>Within 5 minutes, you get a response of "I'll explain when I get home..."
>The next couple hours are spent steaming while preparing a jumbo bucket of pasta and meat-sauce, sprinkled with some fresh peppers you got on the way home, probably more than you rightfully should use, if the taste-test is any indication
>The front door makes an unlocking noise, right at 8:45 as you put the dishes on the table and ladle out a heaping pile for Moo topped with a huge mess of sauce, a meager helping with just a touch of sauce for you
>Moo's face is down-turned, clearly upset as her jiggling mass makes its way to the island
>She sets her phone down in front of you and starts eating her spaghetti whilst you read, seemingly unaware of the spiciness of the dish
>Reading it out in your head, "After you left, I had a few hours to myself and decided I'd pay you back for sneaking around in my room the other night, so I slipped into your room. I found your old DS and a pile of games and decided I could go for some Spectrobes. ;_; Partway through the first planet, I decided to play some Banjo-Kazooie and was enjoying that for a while. Being the horrible glutton I am, I got up for a snack around 11:10 and set the controller down with the DS on your seat and I guess they slipped into the gigantic couch canyon my butt made.. When I sat back down... ;_; I am genuinely sorry and I'd do anything to make up for it. Please forgive me.."
>Moo is still quietly guzzling down pasta and sauce, so you ask her if the sauce is too hot
>Like snapping out of a trance, Moo looks up, then down again, then dashes around the island for the fridge
>You didn't know a walking flesh balloon could move quite that fast, honestly, her ass still bouncing about like a mass of gelatin long after she got to the water jug and began greedily chugging the poor plastic container
>You can't help but laugh at the sight
>When she finally settles down, she turns about on her right heel, ass mashing the fridge shut and looks on with a sad, gentle smile and a "Moo?"
>She wants to know if you forgive her, you think..
>You decide she can pay you back by getting roaring drunk with you next Saturday and tell her as much, that old stuff was just gathering dust
>She let's out a moo of acceptance as she returns to her extra-hot Pasta, careful to pick out the spicy bits while you clean up all the bits of tech out of the sofa's eternal right-ass-cheek indentation, acceptable losses for the Moo
>At least you still have that other N64 controller... for now
>Sitting down to join Moo, you finish off your meager helping and serve Anonymoo her second, with far less sauce this time, her gratefulness evident in the grin she gives you with a harping mooing warble of thanks
>After that, the events of the first night with her replayed themselves of chilling on the couch and then getting engulfed in cowgirl meat, albeit this time her belly was a decent bit pudgier
>Seems these huge meals are catching up with her
>The rest of the week flows on by as usual until Saturday finally comes around
>When you've awoken at the late hour of 11:00 A.M., it's clear Moo has been busy
>Several kegs of beer and a few dozen cases on top of those are all stacked on her side of the ailing sofa and the island is utterly loaded with Breakfast foods, although most of it is in front of her as she's shoveling it all in
>You help yourself, commenting on her planning skills to be able to do all this before you got up
>All you get back, between huge forkfuls of Egg and hashbrown (Did I mention she's using a fork in each hand?), is a muffled "Moo~"
>Just watching her glut herself is a sight, noting it's so miraculous the way her tits manage to get so comically close to the food, but never touch, deftly (or luckily?) shifting backwards slightly as a bit of egg tumbles past to the floor to join a few of its fallen brethren at her feet
>You'll clean it up later
>Fast-forwarding through the gorging of the fatted calf, you and Moo settle down on the couch, she passes you a cold one from the cooler next to the leaning tower of liquor and replacing it
>A thought seems to pass over her and she waves her phone in your face, it reads: "We should order pizza!"
>You agree happily, but wonder how many..
>Moo starts counting off on her fingers, letting out a moo with each one and you count along...
>By the time she's done, she's counted like.. 6 baker's dozens
>"Well, alright. Your treat? (You wink at her)"
>She waves her hand and moos gently, producing that Credit Card from betwixt her mythical mounds, seems she's happy to do so, which isn't surprising given she's paid for most of the food in the house these few weeks since she moved in
>And after ordering a variety of pizzas that would make a man's head spin, you settle in a crack a cold one
>Moo just chugs through a tube from one of the aluminum kegs, producing more cold beers whenever you desire
>After binging on some anime, the two of you end up competing at a variety of vidya 4fun
>You queued the pizza guy to be here around 5 and right on cue, she arrived with a literal trolley of pizza
>Moo answers the door, much to the poor girl's dismay
>And after paying, hauls in all the pizzas, stacking them by my side, shaded in the shadow of the flesh colossus that is Moo
>Before long, she was gone and it was back to vidya+pizza
>You had a slice here and there while Moo scarfed down entire boxes
>And the day turned to night before your very eyes
>Eventually, you two start watching nature documentaries, including, but not limited to giraffes, lions, bears, cows, dogs, a dozen fish variations, and more
>You aren't even entirely here anymore, just lost in your hedonism
>You vaguely recognize turning to Moo and nestling against her rotund side, just listening to the sounds of liver failure and pizza sloshing about in her
>Eventually, you ended up atop the Anonymoo with no pants, every inch of her about you rippling with jiggly green flesh
>She's blushing from what you can tell and she has no top
>Another beer and the rest turns into a blur of squishing, mooing, squirming, smishing, nipple nibbling, "I love you's," something about a dragon, a bear, a cow, and a man, and then blackness eternal
>Your dreams repeat these messy events over and over in your head, you can make neither heads nor tails of it, but at last, it all fades away and you sleep soundly between two giant pillows fit for the gods