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Quick introduction. Hi there. I'm new. Never done this before. Just set up a deviant art page where I wrote and posted my first story. It was nice and quiet over there and I was having a lot of fun but wanted to share it around a couple other places to see what people thought. So yeah. Advice, critique more than welcome. Literally have never... ever... written anything at all about anything ever before.... sooo..... 

Special thanks to Flaming-Hades for "What does a Champion Feel Like", Woodsmont for the "Sculpting of Kate", and Enumerated_Bob for, well everything he ever posts. All three have been huge inspirations. The main reason I started writing was an inability to find enough stories that were up to the standard I felt was set by them and a very few others. 

http://avacadodo.deviantart.com/

So on to the story. I hope you like it, but don't spare your real feelings. 

 

Chapter 1. A Spring Homecoming

Home. Vestiges of the season’s final crisp shower pattered a happy rhythm on the windshield of the moving van as it drove into the small rural town. It had been more than 4 years since Jim Butler had been here, but it was hard not to feel as if the town itself was happy to welcome him back. It was not just the nostalgia of old haunts and good times that made him smile, but a sense that something was coming that filled him with a breathless anticipation. The sun herself broke from behind cloud cover just as they pulled onto the drive of his new street, shining her exuberant round face upon the houses below. Her warm rays cut through the misty spring air like butter, dispersing the damp precipitation and promising a sweet summer to come. No one was out yet and in the stillness of the early summer sun it felt as if the whole world was holding its breath. By the time the movers had begun unloading, not a puddle was in sight. Only the flowers, planted in abundance at the Victorian house next door remembered the rainfall that had brushed their faces as the world came alive and rose to wakefulness. They reached for their round mistress in the sky with a yearning hunger, soaking up her vast munificence, as Jim and the movers heaved brown cardboard boxes full of his memories into the house. 

Jim was from here and though he had been gone pursuing his dreams for nearly a half decade now, he was happy to be back. Average of height and face with a rather rigid nose and mussed brown hair, he was of passable looks. Despite this, and the various dates, dinner parties, and acquaintances made in his time abroad, he was not romantically involved. After each failed date, he would tell the other person that he was just too busy for a relationship. Later, alone at home, he would find comfort in repeating the same thing to himself. The lack of romantic success however, was alleviated somewhat by a profound success in his profession. After helming a few successful projects at work, he had decided it was time to try something new and used his earnings to form his own company. It was a risky move, but the status quo was boring. Besides, the risk came with its own benefits. It had allowed him to move home and put a deposit down on a house of his own. He had picked out a simple little one story place with a lot of windows and a small yard situated in an upscale neighborhood. Humble, but sturdy and clean, the enclosed space and basement provided him with all the room he needed to work and live in.

They were unpacking his van and moving things inside when he heard a feminine voice called out, “Jim? Jim Butler, is that you?” 

He stood up from the box he was bent over, eyebrows arched in surprise at hearing his name. “Yes?” he asked dumbly. And then he saw her, and the still anticipation of the world broke around him. 
“Jim, it’s Caroline.” And yes it was her. Caroline Goodwin, an old friend and sometimes crush from summers past. They’d worked the mall food court every summer during their college years. Though they had attended different universities entirely, they always somehow found themselves returning home to live rent free with the parents while working and talking about the future. They had made a pretty good pair. He was 5’6” and she was 5’ 4”, he an introverted thinker and she an extroverted gym addict but both dreamers with grandiose idea about the world that they enjoyed sharing with each other while they shared one another’s time and company. 

She had been a petite little thing; a dancer and it showed when she moved. She was always so graceful wherever she went, with a bounce to her step and an almost unconscious shimmy to and fro, even when she was standing still. Though, as a previously mentioned gym addict, she was also an unabashed foodie, taking full advantage of her job at the food court to sample any and everything. He vividly recalled her bare midriff from those summer days, tight and tan from dancing and sun. After the first summer working together they were inseparable when together. There was certainly a mutual attraction, but there was work and then college separated them and neither wanted to mess up what they had in the short amount of time they had together. Besides that, they both openly and animatedly discussed their individual dreams and plans for the future and those plans very clearly diverged once college was done and these summer jobs were finished. 

She had wanted to join a famous dance company like the New York Ballet and travel the world. He wanted to run off and join an engineering firm and build large amazing things. So they flirted, they teased, they held hands, but that was it. Their own fierce respect for the other’s friendship and knowledge that they couldn’t start a relationship without ruining the others dream or giving up their own stopped it from ever going beyond that. 

When he had received his job offer, she congratulated him, they had celebrated over some cheap champagne. A few weeks later he left town and that was that. He promised her he’d look her up on Broadway one day and she rolled her eyes and said she would be sure to send him tickets to the Ballet when she made it, since he obviously needed some schooling on the differences in the fine arts and would probably never find it himself if he couldn’t tell the difference between ballet and show dancing. It was a chapter in his life he thought was over.

Yet here she was, leaning against the fence of the big Victorian next door holding a large watering can and sporting a huge crooked grin, apparently unaware of the rain that morning. Leaning over the fence between their yards, her face the same pixie fine features and blue eyes he remembered. She waved and called out again. “Jim, what are you doing here?” 

“Caroline!?” Jim hollered in joyful surprise. His face lit up as he recognized her, and he stepped over to talk. “Caroline! Wow, it’s great to see you. What are you doing here? Don’t tell me.” He motioned to the large house behind her with a questioning look in his eyes.

“I live here.” She said with a shrug and a smile “I work for the owner and take care of things for her. It’s a big house and has its own dance studio. Besides, you know me, I love the old architecture.” She leaned back, holding onto the fence with one hand and shook her head in wonder. “But my question stands, what are you doing in this area Mr. Butler?” she raised a plucky eyebrow. “I thought you had moved on from your humble beginnings never to lay eye on suburbia again. When did you get back in town?”

“Today actually.” Jim admitted. “Believe it or not, this is my new place.” He motioned to the smaller, more compact house to the left of hers. “I believe that makes us neighbors.” 
Caroline widened her eyes in earnest surprise. “Wow, really?” Her face relaxed into a bemused smirk as Jim scratched his head and offered a sheepish apologetic face.” 
“I swear I had no idea you lived here.” He said. 

Caroline laughed at that. “Well you can’t fight serendipity I guess.” She said, and looking over to his truck of things, carried on with “Well I can see you’ve got your hands full right now, and though I’d love to catch up I have to get to work myself. Want to come over for dinner and drinks tonight? You can return the favor once you’ve had time to get settled in.”  
“Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He replied, nodding and scratching his head. “I’m sure I’ll need a break from unpacking by this evening.”   

Caroline turned to walk away and Jim did as well, but not before he noticed a few differences in his old friend’s figure as she moved out from the cover of the fence. Caroline had always been partial to crop tops, and for a moment he thought that’s what she was wearing. After a moment he realized it was not a crop top but a regular tee, and the cotton must have caught on the fence. The sheer size of her abdomen caused the shirt to catch most of the way up, revealing a monster pot belly exposed for all to see, where her old washboard abs used to be. Jim was lucky Caroline wasn’t looking his way anymore. Her attention on the flowers, still basking in the glow of the radiant sun, which prevented her from seeing his jaw drop at the revelation of the unexpected change in girth of his friend. Was she pregnant? No, it couldn’t be. Her belly bounced, jiggled, and danced just like her feet as she moved gracefully through the garden tending to the hungry plants. Pregnant bellies aren’t pliable like that at all. He’d seen enough to know what they looked like. It was definitely not a baby in there, it was just an astonishing amount of concentrated lard. Jim couldn’t move for the next 30 seconds as he took in the foreign sight before him. It was strange. She was completely as he remembered her; thin, delicate, and pixie like in every way except now, beneath her breasts a big fat bouncing belly was hanging over the waistband of her pink yoga pants. She didn’t seem to realize that it was completely exposed now as she went on about her morning chores, and he stood frozen in place watching what felt entirely too much like a confused fever dream. 

Suddenly recalling the earlier spring shower, Jim jolted back to reality and moved a step back towards the fence and raised his voice, “Oh, Caroline, if you weren’t aware, there was quite a bit of rain this morning. You probably don’t need to water them all that much. I imagine the soil’s pretty wet under the top lair.” 

Hearing this, she glanced back smiling. “Well thanks for letting me know but its fine. There’s no such thing as too much of what’s good for you, right?” she asked and slapped the side of her clearly overfed gut, proof of the philosophy’s application in her own life.

“R-Right.” Jim said, a slight stutter interfering with his speech. His eyes stuck pointed downward to that thunderous slap against bare skin, drawing inexorable attention to the changes in the once self-proclaimed gym rat. If he hadn’t already been red with exertion he would probably be flushed with embarrassment right now. 

Hearing the crack of the slap much louder than it should have sounded, feeling the unexpected skin on skin contact,  and coming to the dawning realization that her t-shirt was not covering her bulging gut nearly as well as she had presumed, Caroline’s own cheeks went bright pink. “On second thought, I’m sure the rain did its job just fine and the flowers are fine. Everything is just fine and,” she trailed off. “Well uh, I had better get inside.” She squeaked finally, abandoning the watering can and beating a hasty retreat indoors. Jim could do nothing but stare in consternation at her exposed pot belly as it jiggled madly during the scramble back into the safety of her house. 
What had he just seen? Shaking his head to clear it, Jim got back to work. Her shimmying belly bounced and jiggled on repeat in his head the rest of the day.

                                                                                                                                                                                  

Chapter 2 First Summer’s Night

With a last languorous blink across the town, the sun slipped beyond the edge of the horizon allowing evening to flex her waiting arms and embrace the land like a lover. As she departed the sun breathed a parting kiss upon the west wind. The effect was small but profound as the last of spring’s briskness evaporated into memory, melted by the sun-kissed wind as it rustled quietly through the streets. Summer was here in full and you could practically feel the whole world humming in hungry anticipation with the changing of the guard. The moon was full and the memory of day was strong even in the night. The summer breeze carried the memory of the sun in through the window and caressed

“Oh wow, what time is it? I was supposed to meet Caroline for dinner.” Jim exclaimed patting his pockets down feeling around for his phone frantically. He had become cognizant of the time for the first time since the movers had left, only just as the light winked away for the last time through the window. Deprived of reason to keep working, his brain cued up the recent memory of this morning’s close encounter of the chubby kind, while he hunted for his time piece. The vision of the mad jiggling mass he had witnessed bouncing above the belt around his neighbor’s waistline continued to dance through his head much longer than it had in reality. After a long moment of vivid memory playback, he shook himself from his reverie and pulled his phone from his pocket. “8:30!?” He shouted, in shock.

Swearing under his breath, Jim collapsed onto the sole clutter free chair in the house. He ran his hand through his hair as he considered his rather limited options. He could probably order pizza since Caroline had almost definitely eaten without him by this late hour. “She probably thinks I stood her up on purpose after this morning.” He mourned. That was really unfortunate, as he was really looking forward to catching up with her again. Massive weight gain notwithstanding, he had been thrilled to see her and if they were going to be neighbors he had better at least try to recall their friendship.

Did he want to go? That was the real question. He thought of her grossly jiggling bulging stomach and winced. Then he thought of laying in fields three years in a row, watching fire works together and talking about future aspirations. Moments shared, that were precious to him. Especially now after all these years. What had happened to that girl? She must have gained 50 pounds and on her tiny frame and it really showed, especially considering it apparently wasn’t going anywhere but to hide her formerly perfectly toned abs. Whether it made him uncomfortable or not, he couldn’t stand her up or make excuses. She knew him too well for that and whatever was going on, she was still his friend, even if they hadn’t spoken in more than 4 years. Decision made, he stood up and walked next door. The night was cool but comfortable as summer’s first warm breeze drifted lazily through the air. The flowers outside the Victorian house were still. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. He stood staring up at the house for a few more minutes, then walked up to the door and knocked.

At first he thought she might not be home, but finally he heard the sound of feet running towards the front of the house, and the door opened. It was Caroline. This time she was wearing something far less revealing than the too-small t-shirt from this morning. He noted it was a black hopelessly tried to accent her boobs in a more traditional fashion. It was unsuccessful. The black was not slimming and that pot belly was just too vast to disguise.

“Jim!” she gushed. “I was afraid you weren’t going to be able to make it after.” She didn’t finish the sentence but the memory of a hand slapping an exposed fat belly went through both their minds at the same time. “Well, I thought you might be too busy.” She finished lamely. “I’m so happy you came though!” she said, bouncing back with a smile before giving a sheepish grin and in an apologetic tone said “I’m afraid I got started without you.” It was dark but even in the dim light, it was easy to see her cheeks were flushed from alcohol.

“Ah, yeah it’s been more work than I realized getting moved in.” he laughed “I haven’t even gotten much unpacked yet, and I completely lost track of time. I hope you saved me some dinner though. I’m famished after all the work!”

“Yes, of course. Come in! I didn’t have much appetite tonight so there’s still half of the lasagna left. Let me show you to the kitchen. I have a table set up in there.” Jim’s eyebrows climbed as she widened the door to admit him. Did that comment mean she had eaten half a lasagna as a light dinner?

The thought fled his head before he could consider it in too much detail though, as he panicked, realizing he was not going to be able to avoid contact with her protruding stomach as he stepped into the house.

If Caroline’s cheeks had been flushed from alcohol before, this second infraction from her intruding jelly belly set her face aflame. The two jerked apart and stood awkwardly looking away from each other fumbling for words for several seconds. Caroline violently smoothed her black camisole down, trying to hide the plump underbelly that had shown for a moment as the fabric had caught. She was praying that he hadn’t noticed. He had.

Caroline finally broke the silence with a mumble under her breath of “Sorry it, uh, gets in the way sometimes.”

“I’m not disturbing the owner by being here so late am I?” Jim interrupted desperately.

Like a drowning man being thrown a life preserver, Caroline grabbed onto the question and began reassuring her friend profusely as she broke their awkward silence and she began to usher him through the house. “No, no! Not a chance, I promise. None at all.” She took a deep breath and smiled again. She was beautiful when she smiled. “Mrs. Taylor likes her privacy and sleeps up on the third floor. She won’t be able to hear anything from us once we’re in the kitchen. You couldn’t bother her if you tried. I promise” She turned and led the way towards a large kitchen at the back of the house.

Following, Jim tried to compose himself. He had thought it would be easy to act normal, like old times, but he seemed to be hyper aware of her added thickness for some reason and the fact that it kept inserting itself in the middle of their social interactions made it even more difficult to ignore.

Coming into the kitchen itself, Caroline motioned to an old thick dark wood table, indicating he should sit down.

“Let me go ahead and pull out some food for us. I’ll have to warm up the oven to reheat the food but there’s beer in the fridge you can help yourself to.”

He grabbed a beer and then a second and a third as she fired back up the stove and practically made a new meal, chattering happily at him about the wonderfully inconsequential happenings of the town and him responding by speaking about the challenges of moving with her. It was getting late by the time everything was ready but the smell was amazing and the conversation excellent, so he didn’t mind that much.

As they dug in, an amiable silence drifted over them and they smiled goofily at one another over mouths busy with consuming food. She had served him a large plate of thick cheesy lasagna surrounded by heaping mounds of mashed potatoes and gravy, along with another beer. More than enough to satisfy the appetite he had worked up over the last seven or so hours since lunch, moving boxes, he noticed she had served herself an equally large plate despite her comment about eating while waiting for him. It was accompanied by a bottle of wine, which she had been working on since before his arrival from the looks of it.

Silent chewing went on for some time, interspersed with the occasional small burp or groan of satisfaction. Jim couldn’t get over what a good cook Caroline had become. From the way she acted, neither could Caroline.

When at last they were done eating, Jim stretched back in his chair and moaned his appreciation. “I’m stuffed! Where did you learn to cook like that Caroline? I don’t think I’ve ever had a lasagna that good. And the mashed potatoes, next time just give me the potatoes in the gravy boat.”

Caroline blushed at the compliments and buried her face in her wine glass after murmuring an embarrassed thank you. Taking the opportunity while she was distracted, Jim’s eyes drifted covertly down to catalogue the changes, or rather singular large change, in his former co-worker. In the wake of the meal, her pot belly was even more defined on her petite little body than before. The thing pooled up and lay thickly across Caroline’s lap. It didn’t just stick out a little but rolled over her waist band to cover a surprising amount of her legs. He noticed that though while she was standing the pot formed one large protruding curve, when she sat it rolled over itself to form an indentation around her belly button. Jim’s imagination involuntarily began to picture just how low her belly might hang between her legs if she were to spread them.

Realizing the last thing he wanted to be caught doing was staring at the literal elephant in the room, Jim yanked his gaze away before it could linger too long. There was something inexplicably captivating about the sheer size of her belly when compared to the rest of her pixie like form and he couldn’t yet tell if it was revulsion or attraction that fascinated him so.

“To unexpected reunions.” He said, raising his beer for a toast. “And memories of a rather fantastic friendship.” She smiled and raised her glass to the toast as well, tossing back the last of her bottle and leaning back in her chair. He couldn’t help but return the easy smile sprawled on her rouge lips, but at the same time he became keenly aware that her movements had shifted the black shirt she was wearing and it was no longer fully covering her very large and very full tummy, revealing a milky white slice of perfectly shaped blubber. As she placed her glass back down on the table, he realized he had better leave and digest not only the delicious food she had served him but his confusing feelings on the new Caroline too. He opened his mouth to say as much but she spoke first.

“You look really good Jim,” she said. Was that a note of wistfulness in her voice? He couldn’t help but notice the tone, even distracted as he was by her stomach sticking out of her over stressed shirt.

“Well thanks, I’ve kept up with the workout routine you helped me develop. You might not believe it but I’m actually sporting a six pack these days.” Distracted as he was, he had just responded on auto pilot. His six pack was actually a fairly recent development and he was still very proud of the accomplishment and liked to brag about it when he could. Calling any attention to the abdomen at this point however, was a mistake. He realized this as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Looking down at her own momentous middle, Caroline gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, “Well good for you. I’ve developed the opposite of a six pack. You can probably tell but I’ve replaced the gym habit with a crippling donut habit while you were away.” She looked quite glum as she proceeded to poke a finger into the side of her pot belly as she spoke. Jim had always found Caroline attractive but his general taste in women had never extended past the traditional Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model. As her finger disappeared up past the second knuckle, however, he felt a jolt and this time stared fascinated for a few seconds too long before jerking himself back to the present.

“I need something else to drink.” Caroline stated abruptly. By this point, the alcohol was sinking in and as she stood up to fetch a bottle of rum, her belly shifted too, bouncing out to its former shape. Recalling his plans to leave futilely, as his attention was caught by the new movement of her unconventional curves, this time he simply couldn’t look away. Caroline moved around the room, fetching a few bottles of pop to serve with the rum before sitting down and pouring them both mixed drinks.

“Yes Jim, I got fat.” She sighed.

“How are you doing? I know fitness was always such a big deal for you.” He said, demeanor changing from lighthearted to one of concern.

“I’m doing fine,’ she responded, sipping her rum and coke. “It’s hard to explain. My plans for joining a dance company didn’t work out. I got a job at a bakery. It didn’t do any favors to my figure. It’s fine.” She didn’t sound fine. She sounded resigned. 

“Caroline, you were an inspiration to me. I am not exaggerating when I say you taught me everything I know about staying in shape, and I know how passionate you were about dance. Surely you haven’t given up on that dream.”

“I was also passionate about food, if you remember.” She smirked at him ironically “It just caught up with me. And no, I didn’t give up dancing, but I couldn’t make the professional cut like I always talked about so I had to find something else to do. I make a good living at the Bakery and make up the rest by taking care of Mrs. Robin here. She even has a dance studio here on the second floor and I don’t pay rent. I thought feeding people was a good way to make a living but I ended up doing a lot of feeding myself along the way. My figure just didn’t seem as important and I was so busy that I dropped my gym habit but I didn’t drop my food habit. In fact it got worse.”

Her long tousled brown hair hung curled in ringlets around her face as she looked down into her glass, the idea of tears dancing behind her eyes. Jim’s eyes alit once more, unbidden upon her soft globular gut. Caroline’s shirt had ridden up again on one side and a slice of fair creamy skin showed, like a thickly portioned wedge of fluffy white birthday cake. He tore his gaze away, unsure of his own feelings. This was not the girl he had once known. Life had pulled this wonderful girl down from the aspiring dance professional she had envisioned with him on lazy summer nights like this half a decade ago. Confusing feelings about her unlikely curves aside, he had a responsibility to help here if he could.

“Well look, I definitely need some friends again now that I’m back in town. Why don’t we hang out more like this? You could join me at the gym just like I used to with you. You’ll be back in shape in no time.”

Caroline looked up, appreciation apparent in her gaze, any threat of tears retreating before his kindness. “Ah but it’s more serious than you think. It’s not just the lack of an exercise buddy that’s made me go to pot,” she wrinkled her nose and leaned forward conspiratorially, mood moving from sad to silly. Jim couldn’t help but notice the way her belly rolls bunched up over themselves as she drew closer, alcohol heavy breath hot on his face as he leaned forward to meet her halfway. “I have a confession to make Jim, but you have to promise not to tell.” Her face became faux serious as she looked him in the eye. A capricious wink gave the act away though.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Cross my heart and hope to die.” he swore, smiling and winking back as he made the appropriate cross over his heart.

Again she shifted, this time leaning in even closer. Jim caught an eyeful of cleavage as he moved in with her. Internally he remarked to himself in relief that her belly wasn’t the only thing to have softened. It wasn’t much, but she must have gone up at least one cup size in the breasts. It was just so disproportionate from her middle that you couldn’t tell at a glance. He was gibbering to himself. He needed to stop obsessing over her new curves and pay attention to what she was going to say.

Her voice was husky and her breath danced hot across his cheek as she whispered in his ear, “Jim, I just love to eat.” Laughing, she leaned back all drunk silliness again as she moaned. “Even if we exercised every day, I’m not sure I could stop eating. You would not believe the amount of donuts I can put away. Really, it’s my own fault I’m so fat. I just can’t say no to a cupcake or a pastry and I’m surrounded by them all day.” She lamented.

What was wrong with him? He knew nothing good could come from challenging her but he felt helpless, caught up in an intoxicating whirlwind of alcohol and pent up attraction to not only his old crush’s abrupt new curves but also to Caroline’s casually wanton attitude towards her own gluttony.

He felt himself slide over some invisible cliff and into uncharted waters as he responded to her boast, egging her on.

“Come now, you exaggerate. You have to have some self-control left.” Jim said. “There’s no way you could eat even a single donut after that dinner.”

As if she had been waiting for the challenge, Caroline’s eyes flared in response. “I am not even remotely joking. I’m fat because I can pack it away in here. I can easily drop a dozen of those little cakes a day. Believe me, the calories add up and I am addicted.” She said and stuck out her ridiculously disproportionate jelly belly and slapped it on the side, initiating a wave of jiggles that lasted for some time. Jim neither moved nor spoke until the waves she had caused stopped. This was getting decidedly out of hand, he thought. He knew she was a competitive spirit. Was he really going to push this?

“Caroline,” he scoffed. “No offense, but you are tiny. I know you like to eat but I couldn’t eat that many after a good workout and there’s no way you could do that on the daily.”

The old competitive glare shone in her eyes as she forgot her woes in light of this new challenge to her eating prowess. “Care to put your money where your mouth is, Mr. Big Shot?” She stood up, a little unsteady as her balance was now very off center and she wasn’t exactly sober, but her graceful feet carried her easily across the kitchen to her cabinets.

“I happen to have some pastries from work right here and I think you deserve to see just how serious a problem I have before you make any promises about working out at the gym with me Mr. Butler. So lay your bets.” She turned around and gave him smoldering eyes.

Looking into those challenging blue sapphire eyes, Jim realized how much he had missed her and how much he had missed times like this. Abort! Abort! He thought frantically. “No way, you’ve already had a huge meal. It wouldn’t be fair.” He asserted, but it was too late. She wasn’t about to let this go.

“I see that look,” Caroline crooned in false sweetness, “but you started this and you are not getting out of it. I’m going to give you an up close view of exactly what this belly can do.”

He met her challenging look and narrowing his eyes replied “Okay, I bet you can’t finish the dozen and if I win you have to go on a date with me.”

She looked taken aback and then suspicious, “A date? Jim, I… God I wish you’d asked before I blew up like this.”

He bit his lip, wondering if he had overstepped his welcome, not daring to mention the fact that he found her over abundant curves rather intriguing.

She had pulled out a dozen glazed donuts from her pantry. They looked to still be rather fresh and she stared at them thoughtfully. “We bake these in the morning and they never sell out by nightfall. The fact that I have an unending supply of free fluffy pastries is reflected in the fact that I am now so fluffy myself. If you want a date, Jim you had better witness the real me here tonight.” She said it with a steely determination he had not expected after his confession. “If I win, she said, you still get that date, but instead of the gym you take me out to eat every day, and I get to order as much as I want. Deal?”

His eyes widened at the prospect, but he nodded. What was she playing at here with that bet? Did she really not care about regaining her old body? Did she want to get fatter or something? But then he didn’t have time to wonder as he was taken in by her beginning to eat. It was quite the display.

She set into them as soon as soon as he nodded his agreement to the terms, eating the thick icing frosted donuts like they were air. None of it went to waste as she bit, licked, and sucked down every single piece of pastry. She wasn’t kidding, he realized. She could really pack it away.

Before he knew it all 12 were in her and she sat there licking her candy coated fingers and looking a little exhausted. He was astonished.

“Want to make it double or nothing?” Caroline asked, devilishly as she wiped white glaze frosting from the edges of her full mouth.

“What? No 2 dozen? That’s not humanly possible.” Jim said automatically. He was enamored by the sight in front of him. There she was, his old dancing crush plush and round beyond his wildest imagination, engorged on donuts and lasagna and like a playful kitten asking for more cream, insinuating that she could handle even more.

“Let me be the judge of that.” She said, pulling another box onto the table and grunting quietly as she sat back down. Her poor petite feet struggled to remain graceful under the weight of the dough-filled belly it was trying to support.

“What are we betting this time? He asked, stunned beyond any further words.

She held up two fingers in response. Around a mouthful of sugared dough she explained, “Two restaurants a day if I win. If I lose, we’ll work all this off at the gym your way. Either way it’s a date.”

“Done.” Jim said. Caroline smiled, fox like. She said nothing more as she continued to eat, steadily but at a slower pace now. Jim had nothing left to say either. He could just wait to see how their future was going to turn out.

She was on her 18th donut and Jim just sat there stunned and drunk. He could hardly believe this was happening. The night’s events had him incredibly turned on and he couldn’t for the life of himself figure out why. He just went with it.

“See,”she said pausing between bites. “There’s a reason I’m so fat. Rethinking your proposal to help me work this off yet?”

Jim stood up at the prompting and pulled the box of pastries away from her. “Stop it Caroline. Damnit, you don’t have to do this to yourself. I’m serious about the gym, I can help you through this. You don’t have to eat anymore to prove your point. I understand you have a problem but you’re hurting yourself!”

Her eyes hardened as she looked up into his eyes, her taut domed belly, stuck out like a pregnant woman’s, the shirt ridden up leaving it half exposed to the warm night air. Her eyes flashed a challenge at hearing his remarks and she jerked the box of calories back towards herself, grabbing another one defiantly from the tray. Her breathing was becoming labored as she stuffed it into her mouth and wolfed it down. She grabbed another one.


“You don’t get it Jim, I’m a fat girl now. I’m obese. I’m huge. I’m a fucking beached whale that just can’t stop eating. I’m a fat girl that can eat 2 dozen donuts in a sitting. No one normal does that. People think I’m pregnant when I go out in public. I have to shop on the maternity isle. My gut has gotten so disproportionately big that I can’t even go to try outs for lower level dance companies anymore, without making a fool of myself.” She turned away from Jim’s steady gaze, and looked back at the remaining donuts, a mad gleam in her eyes. “And I can’t stop eating. I’m not the girl you used to know.” Finishing her rant she proceeded to angrily stuff the last half dozen in her face to prove her point, choking them down in record time. Jim let her finish as they stood, holding one another while she completed her gluttonous ritual. Finally swallowing the last bite, she collapsed her weight into him, panting and flushed. She paused for a moment, before looking up into his face, looking for disgust or pity and ready to deflect that with anger. He was looking at her.

“There I won.” She said, completely out of breath. “You see what a pig I’ve become, and I’m not going to stop Jim. Do you still want that date? Do you still want me?”

He looked at her tumbling brown hair and delicate cheeks. He took in her rosy cheeks and full pouting lips, dusted with sweet frosted donut glaze. They were standing so close that she couldn’t help but lean her over abundant softness into his lean muscle. He was still holding her up. Her little unchanged pixie face looking up at him defiantly, expecting him to leave, shout, or turn away. She was a disgusting mess. A pig of a woman. But he looked down at her and saw the same girl he had always known. The passionate and adventurous dancer. The friend who loved to listen to his own silly dreams. His dates had never lasted while he was away at school because he had already fallen in love and just hadn’t known it. Here was his love, and what were a couple of pounds? Okay several dozen, and in an odd place, and she sure had an odd fixation here but damn if he didn’t love this woman and he couldn’t ignore that any longer. “I’ve missed you.” He said. And swept her up in his arms and kissed her sugary lips.

It was midnight, the dawn of summer. Their kiss seemed to last forever, each hungry with 8 years of unfulfilled appetites. Softness and strength touching and feeling the other, lust shimmering in their sweat and skin. Finally they came up for air.

“Yes, I’ll take that date.” Jim breathed out, his breathing ragged. 

"I can't promise I won't get bigger." Caroline said, slim fingers from one hand running across Jim’s firm abs while the other hand tentatively groped his crotch, confirming a stiff erection through his pants. A smile dawned across her face as she felt him up. "Just so we're crystal clear."

"I guess I'll just have to get used to it, then." Jim said, returning her smile and hefting as much of her massive stuffed gut in one hand as he could manage. 

It was going to be an interesting summer.

 

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This is an excellently-written story!  Shame on you for keeping that talent squirreled away for as long as you have!

The pacing and narrow focus really gives the two characters room to breathe and develop within the span of the short story--it feels just right.  I also enjoyed the physical descriptions of Caroline's disproportionately fattened figure.  They're evocative and tantalizing, without any unnecessary gushing or repetition.  Writing like that requires a good measure of patience and care--perhaps even more so in erotica than elsewhere.  Your effort shows!

The overall tone of the story isn't quite 100% on point for my own peculiar kinks, but that's strictly a subjective criticism, and one I make only because it is in fact so darn close.  In any event, it certainly didn't hinder my appreciation for the appealing mix of bashful insecurity and lusty, wickedly-helpless hedonism you portrayed in Caroline.  I liked how both of these sentiments remained in tension, even while swelling into ever fuller exposure as the story progressed--right along with the captivating, shamefully bulging, fattened belly that has become a literal monument of Caroline's semi-willing surrender to guilty overindulgence.  I think that sort of conflicted, dueling balance between shame and pleasure lies at the heart of what many of us find most arousing about this sort of stuff.  

On a nitpicking level, who is the owner of the house in which Caroline is staying:  "Mrs. Robin"  or "Mrs. Taylor" or both?  You reference these two names in the text, but only once each.  I wasn't sure if that was an error or not.

Again, I think you did a great job, and I guess doubly so for this being a freshman effort.  Our pervy little community can only benefit from having more writers like you, who are willing and able to put such care into making a polished product.  Much respect for your courteous tip-of-the-hat to other writers who have influenced you, too.  It's no real secret that such recognition can be a hugely important motivational reward for the tremendous effort of good creative writing.  I wish more folks did the same.      

If you've got more stories in you like this one, I say bring 'em on!

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I'm absolutely blown away by your amazing response riptoryx. :) I'll keep my response here light since I responded in depth over on DeviantArt but again, Thank you. Thank you Thank you Thank you. 

And you too Hallster. It's an amazing feeling to have people take their time to read what you wrote. You guys are the MVPs

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I immensely enjoyed this story! I love the way you wrote how Jim and Caroline feel about her big belly and her eating habits. Wonderful! Your descriptions are spot on as well, really like that. Please continue writing!

And holy cow! You mentioned me in your special thanks! I'm swelling with joy and utter shyness. Thank you! Me right now:

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*faints dead away*

You're swelling with joy and utter shyness? Consider me a having died of happiness.

In all seriousness, I'm a huge fan of The Sculpting of Kate. You did something special there, that continues to influence the way I think about weight gain fiction. A story about a girl that likes food is nothing new. A girl that likes food and exercise? Didn't know that could work. 

Regarding your hopeful comment towards future installments patcleburne, I had not thought about doing a second summer but that seems like a good idea. Everyone's been so encouraging that I can confirm I have started working on a follow up piece though, currently set in the fall. Not sure when I'll finish it though. I'm writing at about 100x the speed I ever managed in the past and but it still takes time.

Any other writers care to comment on their process for churning these things out? I'll say the weirdest thing I've discovered yet is that I seem to work best with no music. None! It's the strangest thing as I generally listen to music with everything I do, but it seems to hinder the creative process here. I even tried instrumental and classical and it still seems to slow me down. 

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