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Each day starts out with a simple goal, today I will not overindulge. Simple. Right? I won't stuff myself until my clothes are too tight. I won't drink until I'm bloated and sloshing. I won't order or buy family size meals just for me. I won't eat an "entire" anything. I won't let my drinking cloud my judgment so that I continue to pig out until I can't move. I won't outgrow my clothes again. Not today. And then, innocently I go through my day. I do my best to complete my tasks for the day without distraction. But inevitably something will catch my attention. Maybe my big belly will bump into something by accident. Maybe my boob might pop out of a tight bra. Maybe I'll see a picture of someone's belly. Maybe I'll see a video of someone eating. Maybe I'll hear someone mention food, or drinking, or getting fat, or sex. Maybe someone will call and mention food, or dieting, or weight gain. Maybe I'll see my reflection and be amazed how fat I have gotten. Or...well you get the picture. Today was no different. It happened again. Just the way it always does. I lose control. It starts slowly. Gently. A little at a time. I eat something. I drink something. I eat again. I get horny. I start looking at pictures. Videos. I eat more. And drink more. I get so horny I make poor choices. I keep eating and drinking. I start chatting. Watch more videos. Eat more. And more. And more. And then, before I know it, I'm stuffed again. Stuffed and round and big as a house. My head is swimming, my thinking foggy. My belly aches and my skin stretched tight. My tits laying on top of my ball belly, nipples hard and aching. My clothes barely able to contain me. And then, what else is there to do? I eat more. I order food. Too much food. And eat it. As much of it as I can. I open my pants and take off my bra to make more room. My gut swollen and full I'm burping and grunting as I drink more. And eat more. So horny now I can't contain it any longer. Bam! Sweet release. My mind clears a bit. I try to focus. By then I'm stuffed and not thinking too clearly. My body bulging and enormous I move slowly trying to cover my tracks. I clean dishes, toss out empty food containers, recycle empty cans and bottles. I relieve myself as much as I can. I get cleaned up and try to find something to wear that might conceal my engorged stomach. I try to cover my shame. By then it's late. He'll be there soon. I check the kitchen again. Maybe some crumbled paper in the trash bin will hide it's contents. My belly sloshes as I try to hurry about. It hurts. More burping. More relieving myself. My loosest fitting clothes are so tight the seams are stretched. My feet and hands swollen. My panties rolled down beneath my engorged stomach. I want to lie down. He comes home. He notices nothing. Not the trash. Not the empty bottles. Not the giant blimp I've become. He's hungry, what's for dinner? There's nothing in the house to eat I'll have to admit. He won't suspect anything. He won't wonder where all the groceries went. Eating out it is he'll decide. Maybe delivery I'll suggest, not sure I can manage walking to the car much less eating again. And in public. No let's go out, he'll say. I down a quick drink for courage. Okay. I'll get ready. He's starved. Hasn't eaten all day. I lie, I just had a nibble or two. I'll cram myself into something nice. It won't fit. It will have to do. A little more courage. I'll hope the restaurant is dimly lit. And that we don't see any one we know. And that zipper on my dress holds. Even my shoes are tight. I look like a sausage stuffed in it's casing. I feel enormous. And ridiculous. And barely able to breathe. I stand in front of him holding my sides. We walk to the car. I burp loudly. I grunt and groan trying to get in. I can't bend, my belly is too big. I think I hear my dress tear. I tug at it to try and make room. Another burp. He ignores me. I adjust the seat belt around my gut and adjust my tits to a more comfortable position so they don't press down on my stomach. Chinese or pizza, he asks. Ooohhhhh, Chinese please! I'm famished.