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“Shit… Tam?! Tam!!” Tamara craned her neck up toward the source of the noise, shouting from where she was on the living room couch without getting up. “WHAT?!” she hollered back, somewhat irritated. Netflix had just dropped a new season of her favorite dating reality show, Love Stinks, and, while it was absolute trash, she admitted, bad dating shows had always been a bit of a guilty pleasure for her. “Can you come here, please!” the voice more ordered than asked. Tamara sighed, fumbling for the television remote as she slumped out of her comfort spot on the couch. “So Danica, are YOU ready to smell love-” the D-list celebrity host on the television screen went quiet as Tamara paused her program and tossed the remote onto the small coffee table in front of her. Whatever her younger sister wanted, it had better have been important. Yes… Younger sister. Tamara might have only been older than her twin by four and a half minutes, but it still counted. Tamara had always been the restrained one, the responsible one, the straight A student, the… well, the dull one, honestly. There was no mincing of words about it. Shannon was the “cooler” sister, the more outgoing, sociable one, the one that still got invited to parties by old friends looking to catch up, the one who had a list of guys sliding into her DMs longer than Tam’s entire friends list on the Gram… Tam just honestly didn’t know how her sister did it. It seemed at times like Shannon had the entire world on a string, the epitome of the typical “hot girl life” that was capitulated by frequent social excursions, attractive men with considerable bank accounts buying overpriced drinks and offering rides in overpriced cars, and lavish excursions paid for by desperately horny playthings. Shannon was the very definition of a socialite, and shy and introverted Tamara had had to spend the entirety of her life in her sister’s shadow. The one “kinda cool” thing that Tamara had that was hers alone was her four-year stint on the high school soccer team. Tamara had always held herself to a high standard when it came to fitness; although she didn’t really play too often anymore as a young adult, the toned, lithe physique that she had managed to maintain well into the cusp of her mid-twenties was evidence, again, of the discipline that she allowed to shape her lifestyle, and subsequently her appearance. But Tamara only had so much time to reflect on her status as the “uncool one” before her sister barked again. “NOW please!?” she heard shouted from around the corner. “I’m coming!” Tamara angrily brushed a strand of vivid, unkempt red hair from her eyes as her lean and long legs carried her quickly across the carpet and towards the hallway that led to the kitchen. Because of course Shannon was in the kitchen. The two twin twenty-somethings were home by themselves that weekend; their parents were at one of their little brother’s college football games that afternoon, and both sisters had opted out of attendance. Tamara because she simply had no interest in American football, and Shannon because, as she put it, “the concession food sucks”. Nobody had tried to argue with her there. If there was anything that nobody questioned Shannon’s expertise on, it was food. That was not to say that Shannon was particularly skilled at food preparation; outside of mastery of the microwave, the robust redhead hardly knew her place around the kitchen. No, Shannon’s expertise with food clearly came to its consumption, and that had been becoming more and more evident over recent years, especially now that the girls were both back from university. By all accounts, Tamara and Shannon could have been identical. Sure, they wore their hair differently, with Shannon’s straightened and sumptuously flowing red mane coming down to about mid-back level while Tamara’s was usually cut short, unkempt and rarely past her shoulders. And they didn’t necessarily wear their makeup the same; Tamara hardly ever bothered wearing any at all, while Shannon’s was so expertly done up one would have thought that she had majored in cosmetics at uni. But, outside of that, there was one specific reason that the two girls were impossible to confuse for one another, even if they ever did decide to try to pull a Parent Trap one day. Tamara, true to her diet and fitness regimen, was lanky and lean, trim and toned with hardly a trace of excess fat about her. Shannon, for all of her efforts at remaining the pretty and popular twin, had for a while kept herself up to the same type of dietary restrictions as her older sibling, if not the physical ones. Tamara, ever the “wise older sister”, had always been around to keep Shannon’s cravings in check, to chastise the more outgoing redhead whenever she reached for that extra helping at dinner or tried to sneak that extra snack into her bedroom. But college had been a huge change for the two girls; it had been the first time that the two had ever been separated. Tamara had gone to Meddlewith on a full scholarship to pursue a degree in marine biology, a degree that she could proudly say she was doing literally nothing with in the present day, her job as a sales clerk at a local retail store showing that the college credential didn’t open as many doors nowadays as it used to. Shannon had gone to Stockton University to major in, of all things, English. It was an honest-to-god do-nothing major, with Shannon having only gone because the school had offered a full ride as well, despite the slender slacker’s suspiciously subpar GPA. And that was where the… “changes” had begun. It turned out that without her much stricter sister to keep her temptations in check, Shannon had finally begun partaking in indulgence in a way that Tamara would have certainly never engaged in, her newfound independence manifesting in an appetite that bordered on the unhinged, the natural “party girl” aspect of her personality revealing itself in full gusto as Shannon began to eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, without anyone watchful to keep her in check. Shannon had elected for four long years not to come home for the summer in between semesters, which meant that Tamara had had literally no idea about the transformations, both in routine and in rotundness, that her sister had been going through, as candid as Shannon was about it. Sure, Shan and Tam still talked regularly enough over the phone, but that wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person. Tamara herself didn’t really spend too much time on social media… so despite the fact that Shannon’s own Facebook and Instagram timeline served as an obvious testament to the girthy girl’s grandiose growth, Tamara had remained completely ignorant of it. It wasn’t until Tamara and the rest of the family had flown out to Shannon’s graduation, a full four years down the road, that Shannon’s new physique had been brought to light. The Shannon that had waltzed off to university on her flighty and fully undeserved free ride had been just as slim and slender as her identical twin sister. The Shannon that had waddled across the podium, however… Mom had been shocked, Dad had been shocked, Tamara had been incredibly shocked. Shannon had grown. Not so much in height; she was still only 5’6, same as her sister, which meant that she wasn’t that tall, but in width… the change was alarming, astounding even. Shannon had done her best to maintain a semblance of normalcy as she greeted her family for the first time in years, trying and failing to act as though there wasn’t an extra 325 pounds packed on to her frame that hadn’t been there when she’d first left home. Tamara had tried her best not to say anything too offensive or jarring, instead taking comfort in the fact that she finally got to see in the flesh, significantly more so, her oldest and best friend. It had remained an elephant in the room for the entirety of Shannon’s graduation ceremony, no single member of the family wanting to be too blunt or critical in addressing the sheer, shocking, undeniable truth: Shannon had gotten really, really fat. Tamara had to marvel at the changes her sister had undergone. She was only recognizable as the same person because of how little of the weight had gone to her face; granted, Shannon’s cheeks were significantly chubbier, but it hardly stuck out compared to what had happened to the rest of her. Shannon had grown herself quite the tummy, for example. Tamara wasn’t sure if there was a literary term for the combination of a beer gut and a food baby, but Shannon certainly possessed a visual representation of one. Her monumental midsection rested repletely on hips and saddlebags so large that they surely made up the most domineering aspect of Shannon’s silhouette; yes, Shannon certainly had a ** middle to go along with an appreciably large chest as well, but both paled in notability with such a prodigiously prominent lower half, one that easily settled any debate as to where the majority of the excess pounds were accumulating on Shannon's frighteningly fattening frame. And yet… the male attention that she’d always received growing up hadn’t ceased. Shannon was an extremely pretty girl, much to the extent that it was clear that she put far more effort into her appearance than Tamara did, even if she didn’t put that same amount of effort into her diet. With her incredibly voluptuous top half and her exemplary and exaggerated lower one, there were a fair number of guys seeking her delicate hand, and Shannon had never found herself wanting for attention even as her bountiful booty had begun to swell in both width and weight. Dates were perfectly content to take her out for snacks, fancy dinners, even upscale buffets on occasion… it seemed like Shannon was never lacking of boys willing to feed her, her flawless facial features on top of her incredibly sensual proportions ensuring that she was of no loss when it came to men willing to contribute to her abundant curves. Tamara could no longer be impressed with how her sister could have managed to put on over three hundred pounds in only four years. After all, she’d gotten to witness it happen once over in the next subsequent four, only in real time. Shannon ate and ate and ate, and half of the time, she wasn’t even the one paying for her own food. As she soared through size categories, her sea of admirers might have gotten more narrow and selective over time, but they were still plentiful and paid, which meant there was no shortage of men to provide the gorgeous and glamorous glutton with all of the food, favors and, most importantly, attention that she needed. Not only were men constantly buying her chocolates and other candies, attempting to win her affection by showering her with sweets, they were also catering to her ever-increasing obesity in other ways. If Shannon needed new clothes to replace her old ones, she’d casually mention it to one of her older boy toys and a credit card with an exorbitant spending limit would appear right before her hungry green eyes. When Shannon had complained about how expensive the cellulite cream she had ordered online was, her current fling had ended up being more than happy to reimburse her for the costs as long as he got to be the one to personally apply it to her luscious, lardy legs and ample, alluring ass. Hell, when Shannon had even needed a new car, after her hips had exceeded the width of her driver’s seat, she’d managed to get one at an absolute steal because one of her side flings’s dads owned a dealership. It seemed as though any time Shannon ran into any sort of wakeup call that could have implied that she might want to get her weight in check, there were any number of men at the bovine beauty’s beck and call to quell her concerns about her ever-growing caboose and inadvertently steer her back onto the path of overindulgence. And so, with not even her many paramours to keep her upwardly spiraling weight in check, present-day Shannon had reached a frankly absurd level of obesity, her natural bottom-heaviness exaggerated to the extreme and her monumental hips spreading across more than four and a half feet in length from side to side, increasing ever steadily in inches as the days went by and Shannon’s weight soared well into the seven hundreds. Which was why Tamara was more irritated than surprised to find why Shannon had called her over to the kitchen. Or, rather, just outside the boundary of the kitchen. For, wedged into the entryway to the kitchen, was one very stuck and struggling Shannon Milligan, and Tamara could tell even though her younger twin was facing the other way that she did not look pleased. Upon hearing Tamara’s softly approaching footsteps, Shannon tried to crane her head backward, rotating as much of her tubby upper torso as possible, tears beginning to form in her bright green eyes as her fluffy face twisted into a look of contortion. “I-” she whimpered, “I’m stuck…” she shuffled on either feet impatiently as she wriggled ineffectively in place. “I forgot… oof… to turn sideways…” Shannon tried to rotate her bovine body to face her sister, but her vast, voluminous hips prevented such range of motion. She was, indeed, absolutely plugged into the kitchen entryway, the excess fat of her sturdy, surging saddlebags oozing over and around the frames on either side. The dark blue leggings that Shannon had worn that day, while certainly fashionable, did very little when it came to compression, which meant that her large, lardy lower half was free to expand to its near full size. “Can you just…” the heftier, hotter twin whimpered, “get the butter, uh- please? I… *huff* promise this is the last time.” Tamara came to a stop just feet away from Shannon’s burgeoning, billowing behind, staring downward at her sister’s bountiful, mindblowing butt cheeks in silence, contemplating. That had worked a few weeks ago, simply by lubricating Shannon along the sides and just pushing her through, but it had come at the cost of the boy shorts Shannon had been wearing. “You really want to ruin these leggings?” Tamara asked honestly, knowing that they very well might be one of her sister’s last good pairs. “Won’t you need them?” she inquired softly, patiently awaiting her sister’s response. The white tank top that Shannon had donned that day, while tight over her impressive bust and bulging tummy, still seemed up to the task to contain Shannon’s growing curves while being low cut enough to allow for quite the tantalizing view of her deep, enticing cleavage, but any pants that she wore were rarely as adequate at fitting her and when they were, they didn’t remain that way for long. Shannon went through sizes pretty quickly, and Tamara was fully aware of an ever growing list of discarded leggings, sweatpants and stretch pants that Shannon held on to because she swore that she’d fit into them again some day, although, as Shannon swelled in size seemingly by the week, that day seemed like it was still certainly yet to come. Shannon was the prime example of the perfect pear shape; she’d been told often enough in response to pictures she’d posted of herself to certain… “web forums” online. Yes, the girl was fully aware that she had a very “unique” figure, but had learned quickly who to cater it to, and the attention that she got online as well as in real life had gone to assure her that her ass was indeed the “real deal”, a marvel in and of itself that left women leaving likes and follows and men leaving comments and responses that were… far more invasive. And it was certainly easy to understand why. A bottom-heavy gainer through and through, Shannon’s fat, full ass was so astoundingly oversized that it turned heads literally anywhere the very voluminous and socially active vixen waddled to, either out of lust, admiration, or appall, and the leggings that she poured her prolific poundage into left absolutely nothing to the imagination, her flaring hips and buoyant, billowing butt always sent into a sea of motion whenever she so much as shifted where she stood. Not only did Shannon possess a bubble butt to rival anyone in the Guinness World Records, her hips stuck out to such an incredible degree that finding her stuck in a standard entryway, one that three Tamara’s could have walked through with literally no problem bore as no surprise to the twiggier twin. Shannon had more than enough up top to qualify her as obese from the waist up, but below the belt was such an extraordinary accumulation of adipose that every part of her ludicrously large lower half was completely overcome with excess, all the way down to her very chubby calves, but certainly far more noticeable at the apex of her historic hips or in the sheer volume of her always thickening thighs. "Its… I guess it's fine," Shannon shrugged, defeated. "This pair is getting too tight on me anyway…" she admitted with a bit of thinly veiled frustration. Tamara's tumultuously tubby twin certainly had a point in that regard. Tamara could remember when her swelling sister had bought those leggings… It had been a couple of months ago, long enough ago that it was understandable that Shannon was experiencing issues as far as comfort and coverage went. She was a fast grower, no doubt, and the endless stream of calories that she found herself bombarded with by prospective males was only serving to accelerate her rate of growth, on top of the considerable amount of cuisine she bought and consumed on her own… Suffice it to say, Shannon's leggings were long past the point of retirement, and Tamara could only fathom in quizzical quietness as to how her super-sized sibling had managed to squeeze them on that morning. Or how she’d managed to squeeze all 770 pounds of ponderous pudge that far into the frame of their kitchen entryway. Shannon had managed to get herself stuck but good this time around, the pudge of her surging, sloping saddlebags oozing around the matte white molding and hardly shifting as she attempted to thrust herself forward. It looked like Shannon had been struggling to stuff herself through for a good few minutes now, and had actually made a fair bit of progress… but had finally hit a wall at the very widest part of her hips, just a few inches short of five feet across and currently compressed by the ill-sized entrance in a way that just looked painful. Shannon was not only panting lightly but was noticeably red in the face, fanning herself ineffectively with well-manicured hands. Returning them to either side of the entryway, she tried with a great deal of effort to push both hands against the portion of wall on either side of the frame to try to force her way farther through, but found that she didn’t even budge. She squirmed for a few more seconds like this before letting out an exasperated sigh and stopping to catch her breath, her large bosom rising and falling in time with her heavy gasps for air. “Fucking… AGAIN!!!” she grunted irately, not even considering that her slimmer sister might have the exact same sentiment. Turning sideways in order to fit through the kitchen door had become an unfortunate necessity for Shannon in the past half a year or so, and with the round-rumped redhead’s tendency to be a bit airheaded, it had meant that this hadn’t been the first time she’d needed a family member to help squeeze her hefty hips through the space. But usually, Shannon had her father, a fairly burly man himself, or her linebacker little brother to help give her a strong push. Slight and scrawny Tamara was hardly up to the task. “Jesus, Shan,” Tamara sighed, slumping her shoulders, “you’re telling me…” “Shut-” Shannon began, cutting herself short as she realized that she wasn’t in the position to upset her other half. “Just…” she adjusted her language, “just help, please?” “Help with what,” Tamara sighed, throwing her hands up in frustration even though her sister, faced the other way, could hardly see the gesticulation. “You’re too wide for me to push through.” “I’m NOT,” Shannon huffed, clearly upset, “too wide. The doorway… just isn’t wide enough.” ‘Same difference,’ Tamara rolled her eyes again. Funny how her “little” sister was the only member of the family for whom the doorways around the house weren't wide enough for. Although, Tamara kept that rumination to herself, lest she upset or embarrass the sour and squeezed Shannon any further. Yes, despite the constant compliments and even catcalls that Shannon got from men, despite the absolute barrage of lustful comments that she took for granted from less than savvy would-be suitors, despite the proliferation of positive reinforcement the prodigiously porky partier repeatedly received over her poundage, Shannon was still very, very self-conscious about her weight. One wrong comment from her twin and the ginormous ginger might be out of sorts for days afterward, puffing and pouting every time Tamara tried to talk to her until the thinner twin brought her a peace offering in the form of something sweet or an all expenses paid outing to one of Shannon’s favorite spots to grab a bite. “Right, yea…” Tamara trailed off, hardly as invested in her sister’s tubby tumult but eager to get it over with. “Well,’ her shoulders rose and then fell again, “I don’t know what you want me to do-” “Just get the butter!” Shannon insisted again, clearly distraught. At her sister’s size, Tamara knew that staying on her feet for too long could be difficult, and Shannon was probably eager to sit back down. That was what was largely contributing to the agitation in her younger twin’s voice, she figured. “Well-” Tamara fired back, “the butter’s in the kitchen, I can’t get into the kitchen…” “Can you go around?” Shannon begged, meaning that she wanted Tamara to put her shoes on, leave through the front door, go around through the backyard and enter the kitchen through the back entrance on the patio. Which was just more work than Tamara felt like doing, really. “Umm, I think the patio’s locked,” she fibbed, trying to buy time with her flimsy excuse rather than have to walk all the way around the house. “Well, can you check!?” Shannon hissed over her shoulder. “My legs are getting tired…” “Yea, I don’t blame them, dude…” Tamara mumbled diminutively. “I- what?!” Shannon pouted, agitated and anxious. “I said I’m sorry for being rude,” Tamara thought up quickly. “Yea, I’m going…” she spun around reluctantly on one heel, an easy maneuver for her, and began trudging off toward the front door. A quick stop by the living room to get her flipflops and Tamara was out on the front lawn, her feet sinking in to the bluegrass as she trudged her way around to the side of the house. Tamara was just a little bit out of sorts about it all. Sure, she loved her twin sister, always had, always would. But she couldn’t even count on two hands anymore the number of times Shannon had needed help because she just did not pay enough attention to where she allocated her preposterously plump posterior. Today it was the kitchen entrance for, like, the sixth time… last week she had needed help getting up and out of a lawn chair after too many mojitos at a friend’s pool party… a week before that she had gotten stuck trying to enter her own walk-in closet…or that time she had wedged herself in to the turnstile on the metro because she had been too embarrassed to use the handicap entrance and insisted that she could squeeze through going in sideways… That was another thing. Shannon’s blubbery bubble butt ballooned out behind her enough that she was only marginally thinner front to back than she was side to side, and even when the quintuple-wide cutie remembered to shuffle into the kitchen sideways, both the crest of her enormous ass and the bulge of her soft stomach made heavy contact on either side of the frame. “If she starts getting stuck sideways,” Tamara mumbled glumly to herself as she rounded the corner and stepped onto the patio deck, “she’d better get Dad to redo the doorways, because I am not getting the fucking butter every time…” She stopped herself for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath where she stood in her best effort to let her irritation slip away. She really, really shouldn’t have been letting herself get this irritated. She loved her twin to death, truly, but… her constant happenstances of helplessness were beginning to bear on her nerves. Opening her eyes and spurring into motion once more, she couldn’t help but bear just a bit of frustration, a bit of resentment, as she silently thought to herself… ‘You might be the one who’s stuck all the time… but I’m the one who’s stuck with you…’ ~~ A one-off short story. I know it ends on a cliffhanger, but I like it as is

Description: Two heavy middle-aged woman are jealous of the new young slim addition to the office who is getting an annoying amount of attention for her looks. They vow to sabotage her figure to knock her down a peg, but take their fattening plot dramatically too far [XWG, (between 200-300 pounds gained), sabotage, humiliation, teasing, sex, Outgrown clothes, stuckage] (Idea suggested by ***********) Office Obesity Obsession Written by Polarisdreamer & Prompt submitted by ********** on p*a*t*r*e*o*n Charlotte “Happy Birthday! Charlie!!” My overly busty office bestie, for the better part of a decade, cheerfully rang out, as she waddled toward my cubicle in a figure-hugging grey pantsuit with what looked like a large slice of chocolate cake on a paper plate she was carrying, “I know you didn’t want me to bake you a cake, but I just couldn’t resist!” “You’re too kind Diane. You REALLY shouldn’t have…” I weakly protested, as I endeavored to lift my hefty rear off my comfortable office chair and accept the calorie dense dessert. As usual, it took me a moment or two to wiggle my wide-cushy hips free from the confines of the chair’s built-in armrests. ‘Gotta love being pear-shaped and overweight…’ I sarcastically thought to myself, as I managed to free myself after a moment of struggle. Since it was casual Friday, and my 37th birthday, I was wearing an attention-grabbing plus size two-piece outfit. On top, I was wearing a pink peplum zipper top and on bottom my massive lower body was clothed in matching pink high-waisted wide-leg pants. My thighs, hips and ass all strained the fabric, but at least the darn things fit and helped minimize the look of my chunky waist. Standing side by side, at 5’5 I usually stood an inch taller than Diane, but since she had her three-inch heels on today and I was wearing comfortable flats, she had a good two inches on me. The extra height probably made me look even fatter than her than I already was. Smiling widely, Diane handed me the plate, a fork, patted me on my embarrassingly large potbelly, and then proclaimed in her typical overly friendly tone, “If you like that, there’s lots more in the breakroom.” ‘So much for my diet…’ I offhandedly thought knowing I’d become too much of a fatty to resist Diane’s constant temptations. Unable to stop myself from taking a bite, I couldn’t help but hum in delight because of the vibrant flavor, “Mhhh!! You should have been a baker, not a secretary! Have I ever told you that?” “Only a hundred times. Hahaha!” Diane cackled, clutching her own robust belly, as she did so. During her giggle fit, I forked another gob of cake into my helplessly greedy mouth, and in doing so I looked over my slightly older friend from top to bottom. In that moment, it occurred to me that while Diane had hardly aged a day over the last ten years, I was almost unrecognizable. Sure, her dark red hair had faded to the point she was more of a strawberry blonde now, but I’d gained over 100lbs since I’d started working here. Ten years ago, when we’d met, Diane was a 33-year-old, 220-pound office secretary. Now she was a 43-year-old, 220-pound manager in HR. On the other hand, a decade ago, I was the fit 130-pound envy of the office and now, at 240lbs, I was the fattest secretary of the bunch. Although at least I didn’t have the largest belly, Diane still held that award, but my wide, thick, and soft ass made the size of her gut look modest. Snapping back to the present moment, I looked down and realized with some embarrassment, that I’d scarfed down the whole slice of chocolate cake completely absentmindedly, opening my mouth to pardon my gluttonous display, the only thing that came out was a loud, “*Buuuurrpp!*” “Excuse you!” Diane chuckled, patting my tubby belly yet again, “I take it you want some more?” I wanted to say ‘no’ but the pig inside me won out, “You bet.” “Sit tight, I’ll be right back with another piece.” Diane promised, but I stopped her. “No, let me. I need the exercise.” I pleaded carefully tiptoeing out of my cubical so my mammoth ass wouldn’t knock anything over. “If you insist. See you at lunch.” Diane shrugged before waddling back toward her department. Left to my own devices, my stomach growled with a yearning for more delicious cake. So, I took the elevator downstairs to the ground floor, and waddled my way toward the break room. I helped myself to another slice of cake, but it wasn’t enough. It was like everything Diane cooked made me even more hungry than I was before. Her talent for baking was extraordinary. I’d probably still be a size six if I’d never met her, but since I didn’t have a time machine, I just grabbed another slice for the long trek back to my cubicle. Caterina “On your left!!” I commanded slightly too late for it to matter. The overweight landwhale slowly waddling in front of me toward the elevator with a fat ass the size of Montana, didn’t have time to move out of my way. In one swift motion I clipped her wide hips, squeezed by her, and then trotted as fast as I could in my stylish 5-inch heels into the elevator. Without wasting a moment, I tapped in my floor number and watched the elevator doors slowly close. Sounding irate, the total fatty I’d just bumped into begged, “Wait! Hold the door!” I gave her request perhaps about one second of honest consideration, before choosing to ignore the obese and rotund blonde blimp. Seeing my disinterest, the fatty dressed head to toe in pink flipped me off and yelled, “What the f*ck! I know you can hear me!” I was not about to show up late for my first day of work at my first real office job since college graduation. So, I replied in retaliation, “Sorry wouldn’t want to exceed the weight limit. Maybe next time don’t be so fat and slow.” Unable to get a word in edgewise before the elevator doors closed on her, the elevator began to rise, and I turned my attention to my reflection in the elevator mirror. My makeup was still on point, my long dark hair looked fantastic paired with bangs. My soft, center-parted fringe blended beautifully with my thick, wavy hair. Gazing south of my meticulously maintained mane and flawlessly tanned Mediterranean complexion, I observed how wonderfully my white button-down shirt and brown pencil skirt flattered my fit, 125-pound, hourglass shaped body. I was every bit just as sexy as a 23-year-old college graduate as I was as a 19-year-old freshman. Many of my former sorority sisters couldn’t say the same thing, especially Janet. It was no wonder my boyfriend Tory couldn’t get enough of me. Last night, he’d been so eager to have his way with me, he handcuffed my wrists and ankles to the bed and made me orgasm with his tongue, my vibrator and then the old fashion way so he could get his rocks off too. I didn’t even have to lift a finger the whole time. It was nice having a man that would literally do anything to keep me from dumping him for someone better, but now that I was out of college, I had to be realistic. Tory was fun, but he was going to be a high school math teacher, not exactly a wealthy occupation. My prospects would be much better hunting for someone in the law office I’d just been hired at as a secretary. So, as the elevator reached my desired destination, I unbuttoned my shirt, just enough to show off a little cleavage before making my grand entrance… Diane I knew just from the excessively polished look of the new girl, and the way she strutted into the office like she owned the place, that she’d be trouble. The way she towered over everyone in those unprofessional five-inch heels, the way her pantyhose ended suggestively at the midpoint of her toned thighs, the way her shirt wasn’t buttoned up all the way… I KNEW she’d be trouble. She reminded me of Charlotte way back when. Before I fattened the ditzy bottom-heavy blonde into submission. Even the new girl’s name, Caterina Bellucci sounded like some exotic stripper. The eyes of every lawyer in the business were glued to the 23-year-old’s attractive features. Her firm, full and perky tits, flat stomach, long legs, narrow waistline, toned bubble butt, heck she even had a flawless face for all the horny men to look at. It was no mystery to me why my male superiors had hired her. It was the same reason they had hired Charlotte ten years ago. This new girl, Caterina, was office eye candy, probably well worth whatever they were paying her to do a mediocre job as a secretary. From the entitled look of her, she was probably a total brat. Felt she was owed whatever she wanted. Probably got everything she ever wanted in life from her rich mother and father. Always had the latest designer clothes, the newest tech gadgets, got sent to the best schools… The girl certainly moved with the confidence of someone who believed she could get anything she wanted with just a simple shake of her rock-solid booty. That’s when I noticed something regrettable. My husband, Richy, was checking her out too. Just like every other guy. Ugh! Men! I’ve always been on the heavy side. Even when I was in my early twenties. I wasn’t obese like I am now, but I was certainly overweight. Since I never overate much, and lived an active life, I always figured my weight problem was thanks to my slow metabolism. But I suppose that doesn’t matter to my hubby, not when there’s a hot 23-year-old prancing around the office. I can understand why Richy might feel compelled to ogle a traditionally slim sorority hotty like her. I didn’t hate him for looking, I hated her, with her svelte frame and totally flat stomach. It should be a crime to look that good. Even being in the same room as her made me feel inferior, because at 43 years old, and 220lbs, I really was quite inferior when it came to appearance. It wasn’t until later in the workday that I heard from my friend Charlotte during my lunch break that the skinny b*tch had gotten into an altercation with her earlier down on the ground floor. I did my best to calm Charlotte down, but little did I know, I’d soon get into my own altercation with little Miss Caterina when I went to retrieve my lunch from the break room’s refrigerator. I get a meal subscription because I’m a mother of two and don’t always have time to cook. So, I go to get my lunch, but it’s not in the fridge. It’s gone. At first, I assumed I forgot to bring it in from my car, but then I noticed the empty box in the trash. Someone ate it, and when I looked out into the crowd of my colleagues eating their lunches, only one looked guilty when we made eye contact. “Caterina!” I accused loud enough to get most of the room’s attention. “What?” Caterina innocently asked in response to my accusation, while running her hands through her dark wavy hair. Her slender legs were accentuated by her heels and her extremely tight pencil skirt. “Did you eat the box of pasta that was in the fridge? That was my lunch!” I huffed, unable to hide the fact that I was feeling quite upset. “Well, did it have your name on it?” She wondered sounding less innocent now and more defensive. “No.” I replied regrettably. In response, she smiled confidently and feigned at being apologetic, “Whoops!” She got a few chuckles from the guys sitting around the break room. “At least apologize. You ate my lunch.” I growled contemplating what I could grab to eat from the vending machines in the hallway. “Look I did you a favor, that gut of yours doesn’t need any more carbs. YOU should be thanking ME.” Caterina deflected ludicrously in my mind, drawing a few more muffled laughs from the men present. Biting my lip, I took the high road and let it go. For now. I didn’t like being the fat butt of somebody else’s joke. So, I silently resolved to get my revenge. However, it was actually Caterina’s other victim of fat shaming, Charlotte, who’d witnessed my whole embarrassing exchange with her, who suggested the idea I already had bouncing around in my mind. Perhaps Caterina wouldn’t pick on other women because of their extra weight, if she was overweight herself! Together, we resolved to take Caterina down a peg no matter how long it took. Charlotte Our grand plan for revenge started slow, with observation. Diane was quite convincing in explaining how necessary it was to learn the habits of our unsuspecting prey before we took action and exploited them to our benefit. So, we waited and watched, patiently for our time to strike. It quickly became clear to us that Caterina had a habit of making herself a cup of coffee in the break room once every morning and afternoon. She always used the same low-fat hazelnut creamer, so Diane instructed me to buy a low-fat and extra creamy version of the creamer, but a different brand. I did as she said, then I gave the bottles to her, she took them home and expertly switched the labels. We waited until Caterina’s usual creamer was nearly empty to make the switch. I personally swapped the creamers late one afternoon after Caterina had already left work. The little skinny b*tch was none the wiser. That was, until the next morning when she tried it for the first time, luckily, I was there to throw her off the scent of our sabotage. “What’s the matter Caterina?” I innocently asked, while I fearfully watched the walking talking Mediterranean barbie doll inspect the label of her secretly fattening hazelnut creamer. “This brand of creamer just tastes way better than the one I usually use. I’m just having a look at the ingredients.” Caterina explained, as her sharp eyes darted to my plump physique, “Have you ever had this brand?” “What is that? Low-fat? No, I always use the extra creamy stuff in my coffee.” I chuckled trying to suppress the thrill I was getting from successfully deceiving the conceded brat in front of me. “Sorry, stupid question.” Caterina shrugged, as she bent over and placed the creamer back in the fridge. My eyes couldn’t help, but jealously scan Caterina’s pert posterior as she did so. Without even thinking I asked, “Do you do pilates or something? You have a fabulous figure.” “Mhh-hmm, every day, right after work.” Caterina hummed in a conceded tone, while she closed the fridge door and turned around, “You should consider joining me sometime.” Blushing red, I stammered in response, “I doubt I could keep up with you.” “They have beginner classes,” Caterina offered before approaching me, looking down on me in her heels, placing her hands on her hips and teasing, “And, maternity classes, if that’s more your speed.” “I’ll… umm… I’ll think about it. Thanks.” I bit my tongue, turning the other cheek and letting Caterina get away with her typical petty insults. “You’re welcome. Now, if you don’t mind, you’re in my way wide-load. I’ve gotta get back to work.” Caterina blurted nudging my doughy belly and forcing me to wobble to the side so she could pass. Flush with anger, after Caterina had left the room, I rushed to Diane’s cubical to share what I had just learned… Caterina I was awash with feelings of shame and self-loathing, as I sleepily stepped into my warm shower the morning after I’d ** given in and accepted a one-night stand with my ex. It had been weeks since I dumped Tory after starting my new job and yet I still couldn’t seem to fully wash my hands of him. He just had a way of fully satisfying me sexually, it was hard to find that finely tuned and practiced chemistry with anyone else. But now that I was making roughly double what he was bringing in on his lowly teacher salary, I knew I deserved better. I was working my perfectly formed ass off recently. Everyday it seemed like I had to skip the gym and stay late to help someone on something essential for the future of the office. The stress was killing me, but I didn’t let anyone know it. Letting the water hit my body, I enjoyed the warmth before turning around and stepping backward so I could wet my hair. Once that was accomplished, I grabbed my washcloth, soaped it up and began lathering up my arms, chest, and then my tummy. To my irritation, my normally flat stomach was bulging out obscenely far. I looked… puffy. “What the f*ck?” I cursed, resting my washcloth on the side of my shower and inspecting this unwelcome fleshy orb protruding from my midsection with both my hands. My skin was stretched tight and quite hard to the touch. Since my period was two weeks away, there was only one question on my mind regarding the serious bloating I was experiencing, “What the heck did I eat last night??” Pondering that question, I recalled going to a local bar to let off some steam, ordering nachos, a few drinks, but was that it?? My drunken memory seemed annoyingly incomplete. To make matters worse, as I was thinking, I heard my bathroom door open, which meant Tory was up. Before I could say anything or tell him to get out, he snuck into the shower with me and started running his hands up and down my body. It felt good. So, I let him continue. He grabbed my washcloth and started running soap across my breasts, then my swollen stomach. I turned around to hide my embarrassment, and he started massaging shampoo into my hair and massaging my temple. Then, he spoke… “You look so beautiful in the water…” For a moment, my self-conscious worries disappeared. I pressed my perfect ass right into his lap and felt that he was rock hard for me. Smiling with a horny excitement, I let out a little squeak of joy before he started bending me over and f*cking me raw. Just like I wanted. If I was sleepy when I entered the shower, I was wide awake when I left it. Also, for the first time since starting my new job, I was running late. While Tory called in sick, I rushed to my bedroom to get ready. My underwear felt tighter than usual, my c-cup breasts appeared to be overflowing my cups a little bit, but I thought nothing of it, I was in too much of a rush. So, I found a pretty skirt and hoisted it up my luscious legs and started squeezing it over my hips and ass. It took a little wiggling and a few impatient hops, but after a few moments all that was left to do was button the darn thing. To my irritation, my bloated stomach was too puffy for the unforgiving waistband. Try as I might, I couldn’t button the skirt. In the interest of time, I didn’t sweat it. I grabbed my period pants, a slim pair of grey slacks with a stretchy waistband I kept in the back of my closet that I hadn’t needed to wear in months. However, before I could attempt to slip into them, I had to free myself from my skirt. Taking them off was almost as tough as getting them on, but I managed to do it without breaking a sweat. Glancing at the time on my phone I tried to hurry up. I jumped into my period pants and tried to slip them on just like I always did, but to my embarrassment, the fabric caught about three-fourths of the way up my thighs. I gasped in horror as I realized what had happened. I, Caterina Bellucci, had shrunk my period pants in the wash. With a desperate energy, I fell back upon my bed, and kicked my legs up in the air over and over again while I tried to tug the slacks into place. I huffed and I puffed, and after a while, I finally got the slacks to cover my thighs, hips, and ass. All I had left to do was button them across my bloated midsection. I took ahold of both flaps and tried pulling them together. The waistband had a lot more give to it than my skirt, but it wasn’t enough. Try as I might, I couldn’t bring the flaps together enough to button them. I needed another inch or two. Taking a short break to catch my breath, I glared at the round shape of my midsection with anger. Sucking in my breath I attempted to make the roundness disappear, but I didn’t succeed. “Come on! This is what period pants are for!” I grunted, trying yet again to clasp the button together. This time, I was able to button them, but my sigh of relief was cut off by how much the pants were pinching into my waistline. It was so uncomfortable it was almost hard to breathe. Shallow breaths were all I could manage, lest I risk popping the button clean off my pants. Since I couldn’t very well walk into work with tight slacks and a bra, I turned my attention away from my aching midsection and toward finding a brighter button-down t-shirt to accent my dull slacks. Eventually I found a shirt that would look good, so I tried it on and started buttoning it up, but my breasts were making it difficult up top, and my puffy stomach gently pushing back against my efforts made it difficult down low. Gritting my teeth, I managed to button up what I needed to, but looking over myself in the mirror, I knew I had to change. I was able to eventually find a professional shirt that fit, but the act of doing so caused me to be late entering the office. Starved for some caffeine and quite hungry, for the first time, my self-control crumbled, I unbuttoned my slacks, and I gorged upon two donuts in the breakroom while I waited for my coffee to finish. The pastries tasted heavenly. So much so, that after double checking that the break room was empty, I grabbed one more to devour after I drank my coffee and before I began the arduous task of trying to button my slacks again… Diane It had only been a few months but the changes in Caterina’s figure were starting to become quite noticeable. This wasn’t my first rodeo sabotaging an unsuspecting colleague into blowing up a few dress sizes, but I must say with Charlotte’s help, this has been the most rapid expansion I’ve engineered so far. It all started with Caterina’s coffee creamer, the same way it had started when I fattened up Charlotte. Charlotte thought the extent of our sabotage was just in ensuring Caterina consumed a little extra fat with every cup of coffee, but in reality, I put a lot of time and research into the fattening cocktail Charlotte had placed within Caterina’s reach. In addition to the more fattening creamer, Caterina was unknowingly consuming a perfect mixture of weight gain powder, and appetite stimulants. Not only was each cup of coffee making her a little fatter, but it was also causing her impressive willpower to wilt away and vanish before our very eyes. When the little brat started working at the office, she wouldn’t even so much as look at the various candy dishes I’d littered around the place, but now, she’d linger any place I’d stashed some savory milk chocolate. Knowing her weakness, I had Charlotte place a bowl of them right by her desk and keep it filled to the brim each and every day so that when Caterina chose to indulge, she’d have no idea how much she was regularly consuming. Then there was the little matter of Caterina’s workout routine. Assigning her a little extra work toward the end of each and every day ensured that she’d be too late to attend her precious Pilates, and too tired to do anything else after she got off than lug her growing backside to a happy hour where she could eat and drink to her hearts content and beg that handsome ex-boyfriend of hers for sex afterwards. ‘I wonder what he thinks of Caterina’s weight gain?’ I thought to myself, as I reflected upon our efforts to teach the brat a lesson so far. At first, the change in Caterina’s figure wasn’t even noticeable. All we’d done was switch out her creamer, and get her desk switched to Charlotte’s old cubicle. It was far away from any windows and near a chilly air vent. With Caterina constantly cold at work now, her body’s natural response would be to adapt by laying down some fat for insulation. By limiting Caterina’s access to natural light, not only would we mess with her perfect tan, but her body’s natural hunger clock, hopefully increasing her appetite. Charlotte was convinced our efforts were too miniscule to have an effect, but I knew better. Since Caterina was very slender to begin with, I assured Charlotte that it would take some time before the pounds that were slowly clinging to her frame became obvious. After a month, Caterina’s defined physique was noticeably softening. The effect was most noticeable in her arms and thighs because she loved to expose those areas, but I figured her stomach was softening some too. After two months, her flat stomach was gone, replaced by a small amount of chub that was beginning to form the foundation of a belly. It was easy enough for Caterina to hide when she was standing up and sucking in, but difficult to completely obscure when she was sitting down. After three months, Caterina’s once pert bottom had started bulging out a little. All that time spent sitting and eating wasn’t doing her widening hips any favors either. The chub around her midsection had formed a slight gut, her breasts had started noticeably swelling, and her thighs were growing thicker. Her clothes were getting too tight for her and whispers around the office began to circulate that Caterina might be pregnant. Now, four months into this revenge endeavor, Caterina had to have gained at least 25 or 30lbs since starting work at the office. Her face finally looked to be carrying the slightest amount of extra weight, her slender arms had beefed-up ever so slightly, and she was starting to develop some womanly chunk to her expanding waistline. At some point recently, she must have come to grips with her inadequate wardrobe and started buying pieces in larger sizes, because she was still gaining weight, but wasn’t spilling out of her outfits like she used to. That being said, she was still filling out her clothing quite nicely and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long before she’d be due to go up another size or two lest she risk a wardrobe malfunction at work. Wanting to see her swelling body again up close, I moseyed over to her cubicle, carrying a Tupperware container of chocolate chip cookies I’d baked at home the night before. Charlotte had given them a taste-test early and swore to me that they were irresistible. So, once I was near enough, I called out, “Hey Caterina! Want a cookie?” “No thanks Diane. I’m busy.” The brat replied, while she took her feet off of her desk and started pretending like she was actually doing something. She thought I couldn’t see what she was up to, but I knew. “Are you sure? It’s a new recipe. Here, smell!” I urged, shoving the container I was holding right in her face. She resisted, trying to push the container away, but despite her struggle, she caught a whiff of my cookies. “If you promise to leave me alone, I’ll have one bite.” Caterina compromised rising to her feet and holding out her hand for one. I could spy her try to suck in her little beer belly as she did so. Blinking, my eyes noticed Caterina didn’t appear as strikingly tall as usual. She still looked to be two inches taller than me, so perhaps she’d traded in her five-inch heels for much more appropriate three-inch heels like mine. On top of that observation, I could see that Catrina was wearing a black skirt of longer length than she usually wore, an unbuttoned black blazer, and no provocative pantyhose. She was certainly dressed more modestly than usual, perhaps to conceal the extent of her embarrassingly fast weight gain. “Sure, here you go.” I smiled, handing Carina a cooking and sanding by as she took a meager bite. “Mhh!” Caterina hummed clearly taken aback by the great taste. “How is it?” I smugly questioned, knowing the answer before I asked. “Incredible!” Caterina enthused, while she proceeded to take bite after bite until the cookie was no more. “Glad you liked it. If you change your mind and want some more, I’ll leave these puppies in the break room.” I smiled, as I noticed the way Caterina’s eyes longed for just a little more of what I had to offer. For a moment I thought she might swallow her pride and ask for another, but she managed to hold off. I was sure she’d venture down to the breakroom before long and get her greedy cookie fix. I was also sure that one day, maybe soon, maybe not so soon, I’d break that pride Caterina was still clinging to. It was only a matter of time… Caterina “Oof… When did this dress get sooo tight?? I *Ugh!* JUST bought this!” I vented to myself, as I tried in vain to zip up my skimpy Ms. Clause outfit yet again. Each time my efforts failed to produce any progress, my patience continued to rapidly evaporate, and my irritation grew more and furious. Time was wasting, if I dilly-dallied much longer, I’d be late for the office’s holiday party. What made my situation even worse was that my hair, which I’d fashioned into loose curls, and makeup, looked irresistible. I was even sporting some bright red lipstick and wearing a pair of bold peep toe heels to match my red outfit. Yet, I couldn’t for the life of me squeeze into my d*mn dress! I’d even bitten the bullet and uncomfortably squeezed myself into a pair of newly purchased spanx since I’d outgrown my old ones. ‘So why wasn’t this working??’ I thought to myself in a panic, ‘Shapewear is supposed to make fitting into tight clothes easier!’ “What’s the problem???” I growled to myself, as my frustration caused me to give up on my efforts and dip my hand once again into the box of deliciously creamy gourmet chocolates that my secret admirer at work had slipped onto my desk yesterday wrapped in a pretty decorative bow along with a sexy little love note attached which read: “Dear Caterina, I can’t help but appreciate how your curves have blossomed over these last few months. Every time you walk by my desk, my heart skips a beat. The other day when I saw you bend over to grab a snack from the fridge, I nearly lost control. The thought of being with you is driving me crazy. You grow more beautiful each and every day. As always, these chocolates are a token of my affection, enjoy every bite my flawless goddess. Sincerely, Your Secret Admirer” “Mhh!” I hummed as a piece of creamy milk chocolate, quickly followed by four more, graced my tongue and slowly dulled my irritation, helping me calm down. Gazing into my bedroom mirror for answers, the issue was obvious to me. The dress’s velvety red fabric with white lace trim didn’t have any stretch to it… and… my body wasn’t as slender and fit as it used to be. Spanx could work wonders, not miracles. So, I wiggled out of my dress and lingered in front of my mirror in nothing but my unattractive spanx. It pained me to admit it, but I’d put on some weight recently. Well… Some more weight. At first, I’d hoped my clothes might just be shrinking in the dryer, but I was in denial. A month ago, after six months at my new job, I weighed myself during a doctor’s visit and discovered I’d gained 50 pounds since starting my sedentary secretary job. 50 pounds was undeniable. At 173lbs, I was mortified by how much fatter I’d become. I didn’t mind having much larger tits, but swelling zeppelins weren’t worth packing on the pounds everywhere else. My formerly trim stomach had ballooned into a soft mound of plump, jiggly chub. I had a muffin top where my abs used to be! My thighs had accumulated a layer of thick juicy fat. They never used to rub together, or spread out when I sat down, but now my thighs did both! My ass had grown thicker, flabbier, and wider. It was like I’d grown a heavy and squishy wrecking ball back there! Its expansion made it difficult for me to fit into my more seductive office outfits, so I had to switch to wearing less-appealing pantsuits most days. I’d bought my Ms. Clause outfit for the office’s holiday party the day after my doctor’s visit. Since it didn’t fit me anymore, that meant that I’d gained even more weight since then. Did I weigh more than 180lbs? 190lbs? 200lbs? Surely not more than 200lbs… Hopefully. I’d comfort eaten quite a bit over the last month, but not enough to put on 30 pounds in one month, that would be insane. Besides, my dress wasn’t fitting, but I didn’t look that different. ‘Or do I?’ I self-consciously thought to myself. Checking myself out in the mirror more closely, my thoughts were racing, ‘My face hasn't changed much, right? Or has it? Were my cheeks always this full looking? Was my jawline always so soft? A slight double chin was new, wasn’t it? These changes couldn’t have just happened in a month, could they??’ My biceps used to be firm and well-defined, just like my triceps, but now they were starting to look softer and fuller than they’d once been. My breasts had grown so much heavier that they’d become less perky than they used to be. Puffy love handles adorned my sides, but the soft layer of adipose tissue I’d accumulated around my middle pooled most heavily just under my belly button, causing my bulging lower belly to strain the fabric of my spanx. I’d tried to eat healthier this month. I’d tried to be more active. It was just so hard to get back into a good routine. I was too out of shape to start up again at the gym right away and work was so demanding. I couldn’t resist indulging in my little chocolaty guilty pleasures to help get myself through my busy days. I knew my overindulgent diet was my kryptonite, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d lost my self-control. Sex used to be my outlet, not food, but around the time I graduated to size 12 dress pants, Tory quit answering my texts. He claimed he was fed up with being a bonafide booty call, but I suspected that wasn’t the truth. Recently, as I’ve let myself go more and more each passing month, I’ve noticed my effect on men has clearly diminished. So much so that it has been weeks since I’ve gotten any action. Even my guy friends in the office seem to be ignoring me now. My new office friends, Diane and Charlie, keep telling me that my standards are just too high, but I’ve always had high standards and being picky with whom I sleep with has never been a problem until now. I figure my best hope to break my dry spell is to flush my secret admirer out of hiding. The men who work in my office are mostly all up to my standards and my secret admirer has been sounding desperate to f*ck me for weeks. I was confident my sexy Ms. Clause outfit would be stimulating enough to lure him out of hiding, but since it won’t fit, I’m not left with any good options. I could skip the party entirely, spare myself some embarrassment, but pass on the chance for sex. Or I could attend the party and sully my reputation even further by wearing the only Christmas themed outfit that I know will fit my heavier body. A pair of my mother’s jeans that I accidentally stole the last time I visited her and an ugly Christmas sweater I stole from Tory years ago. Swallowing my pride, and the last of the chocolates, I chose the second option… Diane Charlotte and I couldn’t resist admiring our handiwork, as Caterina waddled toward us with her ** lunch in hand. It looked like she’d grabbed some Burger King from across the street again. I raised my arm to greet her with a wave, and Caterina did the same in reply. Although, by raising her chubby arm above her head to wave, her overly tight top began riding up enough to reveal her soft pale belly pouch oozing over the waistband of her slacks. Blushing with embarrassment once she realized what happened, Caterina tried to awkwardly tuck her shirt back in with her free hand but was struggling. Her outfit was too tight for her fattened frame and consequently she wasn’t as coordinated as she used to be. Ever since the holiday party six months ago, it seemed like Caterina had given up all effort to fight the fat that continued finding its way onto her rapidly expanding figure. Her torso had rounded, softened and expanded to the point that it nearly rivaled my own blubbery **-belly, and her awe-inspiring posterior now nearly rivaled Charlie’s in size. She put us both to shame in the breast department, but her swollen breasts were not enough to salvage her reputation among the horny men in the office. Long gone were the days she’d been the slender envy of the office strutting around in five-inch heels, now she was just another 250-pound secretary forced to wear flats because of her elevated weight. It had taken a full year, but our revenge plan was clearly a resounding success. Caterina’s perfect figure had ballooned to the point she had even more pinchable inches around her tubby body than I did! No more short sexy skirts for her. No, no, no. She hadn’t worn anything remotely sexy in over half a year. She was only 10 or 15-pounds shy of reaching Charlie’s weight. It was karma at its finest. It was a treat to see the brat grow rounder and softer before our very eyes all year long. It was even more of a treat to keep up the devilish little charade considering how easy it had become to keep fattening up our formerly formidable prey. “Hey ladies, thanks for saving me a seat.” Caterina happily hummed, as she rested her plump backside next to Charlie across from me, wiped some sweat from her glistening forehead and caught her breath. The journey across the street had become an arduous one for the newfound fatty and trying to tuck her shirt back in had also proved laborious for the heavyweight brat. As she began unwrapping what appeared to be a triple decker burger, Caterina prattled, “Anything new?” “Not really.” Charlie sighed before taking another bite of her pasta. “Nothing much. I made some brownies last night. Stuck them in the break room fridge.” I hummed offhandedly. “Mhh! I’ll have to try some after lunch.” Caterina enthused after gulping down another bite of her burger. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything other than fast food for lunch. “Me too!” Charlie happily agreed, jiggling in her seat in her straining pink pantsuit. I’d trained them both so well, I couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction to myself. Even though I hadn’t lost any weight over the past year, I’d actually put on 10 pounds, Charlie had gained about 25 and Caterina had gained no less than 125 pounds. So, by comparison, I actually looked a little thinner when I was sitting next to them. My husband even told me as much. “So, Caterina… How goes the hunt for your elusive secret admirer?” I inquired, knowing full well that Charlie had been the one writing her all those silly raunchy love notes on and off for the majority of the last year. It was a brilliant addition to our sabotage plan; one I wish I’d thought of myself. “The hunt is dead at the moment.” Caterina gossiped, before pausing to enjoy a hearty bite of her big burger. She was already halfway done with eating it. With her mouth full, she continued, “I’m pretty sure he’s one of the married guys around here. Probably why he never has the balls to make a move.” “Better not be trying to steal my Richy.” I joked leaning over the table and playfully tapping Caterina’s chubby arm with a little jab. “Haha, I wish. Your husband’s hot.” Caterina joked in complementary fashion. I couldn’t help but smile. As much as I disliked Caterina, she was growing on me. Especially now that she’d fattened up to the point I knew she wasn’t a threat to my marriage anymore. Charlie couldn’t help laughing at her antics, “Hahaha! Good luck with that, I’ve been trying to steal Richy for years!” “Have you?” I giggled knowing Charlie was just teasing. As the laughing died down, Caterina’s eating continued. Charlie and I both watched the glutton in front of us polish off her triple decker burger, and large fries in record time. Grasping her belly once she was finished, I could tell Caterina was trying to hold in a belch, so I leaned over and gave her a hearty pat on her soft girthy belly. “*Buuuurppp!*” Caterina loudly belched, blushing in response to the sound. “There you go. How was it?” I smiled, leaning back toward my side of the table. “Really good. I’m thirsty though.” Caterina admitted trying to regain her composure. “Why don’t you grab some more coffee, and some brownies while you’re at it?” I suggested innocently. “Great idea. I could use a pick me up.” Caterina nodded, as she struggled to stand up and then waddled away from us toward the break room’s refrigerator. “Look at her go.” I couldn’t resist giggling to Charlie now that Caterina was out of earshot. “I know, she’s really one of us now.” Charlie hummed, as she rotated her hefty body and got a look at the width Caterina’s hips now sported. However, turning back toward me, Charlie said something surprising, “It’s been fun getting back at Caterina, but I’ve gotta admit. I’m starting to feel a little guilty. I mean, we really made her pack on the pounds. She’s almost as fat as I am. I was thinking maybe we could call this whole revenge thing a win and maybe try and move on. I mean, she’s really not so bad anymore, is she? What do you think?” For a moment, I couldn’t hide my disappointment. I always knew Charlie’s resolve was only a fraction of my own, but I didn’t expect her to want to quit now that we had Caterina right where we wanted her, literally eating out of the palm of our hands! Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself and formulated a contingency plan. “I agree, it’s turning into overkill at this point, but…” I paused appealing to Charlie’s ditzy vanity, “don’t you want the satisfaction of knowing Caterina’s fatter than you are???” “I… I guess.” The dumb blonde stammered struggling to make up her mind. “Then let’s keep this going. At least until we fatten the brat up to the point she’s bigger than you are. Agreed?” I proposed, twisting the proverbial knife into my friend’s gullible stomach. It took a few moments for Charlie to mull it over. She was probably thinking that since Caterina was only a few pounds lighter than her at the moment, our revenge sabotage wouldn’t continue that much longer either way. Seemingly pleased with my proposal, Charlie nodded her blissfully ignorant head and muttered sweetly, “Agreed.” I was annoyed Charlotte wanted to show mercy on the fat brat and ease off our sabotage, but since I managed to keep her in line with a new goal, there was now some wiggle room that I could exploit. If we wouldn’t stop until Caterina outweighed Charlie, all I needed to do to ensure Caterina kept growing was to ensure that Charlie kept growing too... Charlotte I knew I was in trouble the moment the restaurant told us they didn’t have any free tables, just a free booth. Maybe a year ago, this wouldn’t have been a problem for me, but now it certainly was. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I didn’t say anything. I followed Diane and Caterina over to the booth, let them each squeeze in before me. Fitting into the booth was no trouble for Diane, but I could tell it wouldn’t be an easy fit for Caterina. As I tried wedging myself as best I could into the spot next to Diane, Caterina was still struggling to shimmy her own corpulent body into the booth on the opposite side. Seeing me struggle, Caterina commented, “It’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” “Sure is.” I agreed, as I tried to suck in by belly as best I could. “Need some help?” She offered giving up momentarily on her own efforts to fit. “Umm… Sure.” I muttered unsure of myself. Waddling two steps over to me, Caterina leaned her considerable weight into me while I tried to suck in my gut yet again. Somehow, with her help, I managed to wiggle just over half of my ass onto the seat before needing to suck in some air. When my belly expanded to its rightful size, I knew I wasn’t going to make it any further. The table was digging into my fat so much that the top part of my belly was literally sticking out onto the table. Like Caterina, over the past year I’d put on an excessive amount of weight, and I couldn’t be more embarrassed about it. I remembered feeling like a fatty at 255lbs, but now, closer to 385lbs, I looked and felt like a blob. Caterina was maybe 10 or 15-pounds above or below my weight, but it was honestly hard for me to tell. Since she didn’t seem able to fit herself into the booth on her own either, my guess that we might be even in weight at the moment. Although, as she struggled, eventually she was able to squeeze herself mostly into the booth on her own. Although, like me, her belly was also spilling out onto the table. Compared to us, Diane looked pretty fit, although I know she weighed closer to 240lbs now. “So what were we thinking? A couple of deep-dish pizza’s? Buffalo wings? A few pitchers of beer?” Diane smiled knowing Caterina and I were too gluttonous to refuse a chance to pig out. “Sounds yummy.” Caterina hummed, as she gazed over the drink menu. “Maybe we should order a house salad too?” I proposed yearning for some greens. “House salad? How about onion rings?” Diane countered, getting Caterina’s attention. “Yes, onion rings for sure!” The Mediterranean meatball blurted obediently. Caterina was a lost cause. She’d fallen under Diane’s spell, just like me. I knew arguing would only land me more food on my plate, so I conceded and consented to our massive food order. Obedience was the only thing Diane respected. Fattening up Caterina for revenge had been my idea, so had ending our efforts, but for Diane, I realized far too late that it was never about getting even for her, it was just an obsession. She wanted every woman in our office obese for the sake of… I don’t know… perhaps control? Either way, it didn’t matter. Having learned Diane’s methods, at some point over this past year I realized she was fattening me up too. At first, I wanted to do something about it, but soon I realized there was nothing I could do. I was never as clever as Diane, and now I was far too fat and weak to resist her bad influence. At this point, like it or not, I was just along for the ride. Once our food arrived at our table, Caterina and I got to eating like the well-trained cow’s we were. Whenever one of our plates was starting to get empty, Diane would slap some more grub on there for us to unconsciously consume. After a while, my throat grew a little numb from swallowing down so much hot pizza, but I didn’t dare slow down. If I let Caterina outpace me, I knew Diane would make me pay for it later. So I continued eating until my stomach began warning me enough was enough. I unbuttoned my trousers, tried to sit up straight, and give myself some room to breathe, but what minimal relief I could find didn’t last long. “Waste not, want not.” Diane ordered, as she lifted a buffalo wing from my plate to my messy lips. “Ugh… I guess one more won’t hurt.” I nearly moaned from the pain I was feeling in my center. “That’s the spirit.” Caterina chimed in, as she delved into the last of the onion rings. When the feast was all said and done, I’d eaten so much I was completely stuck in the booth thanks to my distended belly. I discretely tried to squeeze myself free, but my efforts were in vain and quickly got the attention of Diane and Caterina. “What are you doing Charlie?” Diane asked with a perverse smile on her face, “Are you ready to go? Or what?” “Just a second…” I hummed praying by some miracle that I might just free myself and spare myself the humiliation of having to ask my friends to help free me. I braced my hands against the table's edge and pushed against it, trying to slide myself out of the booth. I pushed as hard as I could, but my efforts produced no results. I was too fat and weak to free myself from the pressure the table was putting against my flesh. In desperation, I tried wiggling, but the flesh of my bulging stomach was still pressing into the table. I heaved against the table a couple more times, but to no avail. Now breathing heavily, sweating lightly, and my face reddening with humiliation, I resorted to asking for help… “Um, sorry, but I'm a little stuck here and could use some help getting out of my seat…” Caterina’s catty response was sadly way too predictable, “I think this is a sign that maybe you should stop eating out so much. Fatty.” “You’re lucky I’m stuck you freaking brat otherwise I’d…” I began to threaten, as Diane silenced me by placing her hand on my stomach. It felt cold and wet. It took me a moment, but I soon realized she was using some ice from her cup of water to essentially grease the edge of the table for me. Without a word, once she was done, I tried to force myself free, Diane provided some help by pushing against my mushy side. After a few grunts of effort my belly slid free and I was able to wobble to my feet and wheeze in some air for the first time since I’d sat down. “Thank god…” I gasped feeling relieved. “You’re welcome.” Diane giggled, as she maneuvered her own bulky body out of the booth now that I wasn’t blocking her in anymore, “Need a ride home Caterina?” “No thanks, I think I’m gonna have some dessert and then try my luck at the bar.” The obese brat replied, as she waved ‘goodbye’ to each of us. As Diane basically started rolling me to her car, I managed to sneak a glance back toward Caterina and smirked once I realized she was having some trouble now squeezing out of the booth herself! Caterina My face turned a deeper shade of red once I realized that like Charlie, two minutes ago, I too had become so fat and out of shape that I’d wedged myself stuck in the booth same as her. Except now, I didn’t have anyone to help me free myself! “This is not happening…” I murmured to myself, as I tried forcing myself free, but my blubber didn’t want to budge an inch, my belly was too big, “This isn’t happening…” But it was happening. In the span of two years since graduating college and landing my first job as a secretary I’d transformed into the very thing I once hated. A helpless fat blob. My family loved teasing me about it every time I traveled home, and so did all my skinny friends from college whenever I ran into any of them. How did it come to this? It seemed like yesterday that my body had been absolutely flawless. Now I couldn’t even convince my ex-boyfriend to pity f*ck me… My value on the dating market was at an all-time low. What was I even thinking trying my luck at the bar? It had been a year since I’d found someone ** enough to have sex with me like they were actually interested… I was probably better off turning tail and engaging in my typical nightly ritual nowadays, fixing myself several scoops of ice cream covered in hot sauce and whipped cream, and then masturbating to my heart’s content once I was well and truly stuffed. However, while I was wallowing in my own self-pity, I suddenly noticed someone standing nearby staring at my fat fleshy body with a puzzled look on her face. She was young, pretty fit looking, probably in college, dressed to impress, and her thick hair was dyed blue. “What are you looking at???” I growled trying to get this onlooker’s eyes off me. “Umm, I dunno, let me think,” She replied, before approaching, sitting down across from me, and giving my helplessly fat body a glance over thoughtfully, before responding in a sassy condescending tone, “Looks like you’re stuck. Am I right?” I didn’t know how to respond to such insolence, eventually not knowing what else to do while this ** stranger ogled my fat tits, I just spat out the truth, “I am…” “How’d you let that happen?” The blue haired girl asked with a satisfied smirk on her face. “I ate too much tonight, okay?” I blushed, unable to escape this girl’s scrutiny. The way she was looking at me made me feel strange. It was like she was eye-f*cking me hardcore. “Just tonight? If I ate too much tonight, I doubt I’d find myself stuck in your situation.” She replied now smiling and biting down on her tongue, as if really trying to restrain herself from saying something else before I responded. “I work a very stressful sedentary job, okay? I’ve put on some weight since I graduated college.” I managed to blurt trying to preserve a single shred of my dignity right now. “Some?” The blue haired girl zeroed in on, “So, you were pretty fat in college, huh?” Flush with rage the moment I heard her spit out that condescending ‘huh’ I tried to wiggle free once again, only to cause myself to start sweating. Forced to say something to vent my irritation with the present embarrassing circumstances, I growled, “I wasn’t fat at all in college!! I was fitter than you are you little twerp!” “Oh wow, so you really must have let yourself go since graduation. When did you graduate? Ten years ago?” The little brat teased playfully, as if trying to rile me up. Her efforts succeeded and I struggled some more to free myself. In my brain, once I got free I was going to strangle this b*tch, but my energy exhausted itself long before I could move myself even an inch closer to freedom. Forced to respond yet again, I growled, “Ugh! Do I look like I’m in my thirties???” “Kinda hard to tell. It’s always hard to tell with really fat girls like you.” She teased yet again, this time really seeming to enjoy the way my plump cheeks were burning red from embarrassment. “I’m 25!” I barked in my defense. “Wow.” The college girl hummed looking impressed. “Wow, what??” I wanted to know. Changing the subject slightly, the blue haired devil sitting in front of me smugly teased, “Don’t you know if you’re too big to fit in a booth, you should probably stop eating out so much?” “Ugh! Why you little!” I gasped. I could see the smug satisfaction in her eyes. She was force-feeding me my own words that I’d used to tease Charlie earlier! How long had this brat been spying on me? And what possible purpose could she have for humiliating me like this?? Did I wrong her in a past life or something?? She wasn’t… flirting with me… was she?? “Hmhm! I’m sorry, just teasing. I heard you say something along those lines to your blonde friend and couldn’t resist dishing it back at you.” The girl giggled, leaning back into the booth and eyeing my stomach once again. “What’s your problem?! Who even are you??” I demanded to know. “The name’s Amber. And my problem? My problem is… I find you insanely attractive, but you’re probably not batting for my team. If you know what I mean.” Amber revealed much to my astonishment. I was being held hostage by a lesbian who apparently had a crush on my swollenly obese fat ass. “You’re kidding.” I muttered not knowing what else to say. “Afraid not. So, am I right?” She inquired hopefully. “You’re right I’m not a lesbian!” I muttered as fast as I could in response. “Shame. I was planning on offering to help you out of your embarrassing predicament in exchange for… well… It doesn’t matter now I guess.” She reasoned, standing up in seductive fashion and taking a step away from the table before adding, “I guess you’ll have to beg a waiter to help you out of that booth. Good luck.” The thought of having to ask the help for… help, was beyond me. In desperation I quickly pleaded, “Wait! I’m not a lesbian, but in college, I did experiment with one of my friends.” “Oh yeah?” Amber echoed, sitting back down and leaning in closer to me, “Did you enjoy experimenting with your friend?” After gulping down my embarrassment and humiliation, I muttered truthfully, “I did.” “Do you think you might enjoy… experimenting with me if I help you out of that booth?” Amber seductively inquired, slowly using her fingers to walk her hand across the table toward my flabby belly. Watching her hand get closer and closer, I felt my heart beating faster. Wiping some sweat from my chubby face I muttered truthfully yet again, “I might.” “You’re not just saying that?” Amber doubted arching her head with some suspicion. “Scouts honor.” I promised, but Amber didn’t seem convinced. “Bullsh*t. Why should I believe you?” She questioned. It took me a moment to respond, because the truth was hard to say, but eventually I managed to slowly spit it out, “It’s been over a year since I’ve slept with someone. I’m desperate okay. If you wanna f*ck me, I’ll take it. I’ll take anything I can get at this point.” Having said that, Amber’s smile erupted from her face and the slender girl quickly slid under the table and popped up next to me on the inside of the booth. The next thing I knew she put her one hand on my blubbery belly, another on my right breast, and started shoving. Feeling her hands sink into my doughy blubber, somehow felt… stimulating. “Oof, you’re a big girl…” Amber noted much to my embarrassment, as her efforts to free me bore no fruit and she quit putting pressure on me for a moment, “We are going to have to try this a different way. Don’t move.” “I… I can’t.” I reminded her a bit astonished by what she just said. The girl must have been more ** than I thought, “I’m stuck. Remember?” “Hahaha! Oh right, sorry! Sorry!” Amber squeaked, as she nimbly lifted her toned legs up from under the table, turned her back against me, and then used her legs against the wall to really start pushing me. The girl’s legs were much stronger than her arms, because immediately I started to hear the table creaking. Then, my blubber started moving. The further Amber’s slender back sank into my cushy side, the further I slowly slid out from the booth until, with a body-wide jiggle, I popped out and fell onto the floor with Amber quickly sliding out of the booth the same instant and landing flat on top of me. “Wow. You’re so squishy!” Amber cheered sneaking a squeeze of my left breast. “Help me up before you feel me up!” I demanded, as Amber did just that. It took a bit of effort to get me back on my feet, but once I was there, I took stock of how I was feeling. I massaged my belly, while Amber watched, it was sore from being crushed against the table like that. “You know, I could massage that for you.” She offered sounding as desperate to touch me as I was for a one-night stand. I could feel her eyes on my thick roll of flesh that spilled out over my too-tight waistband. Her desire was intoxicating for someone like me so long deprived of receiving that kind of sexual interest from someone else. “Maybe we could find somewhere private to do that?” I softly countered acutely aware of how much attention my fall had directed toward me in this restaurant. “Good idea, you lead the way.” Amber agreed, as my plump fingers interlocked with her skinny ones, and we walked out of the establishment hand in hand. Once outside, we staggered into the back of an uber, and sat next to each other like well-behaved young adults until we got dropped off at my apartment. The closer we got to my bedroom, the more palpable the sexual tension became. Once in my bedroom, Amber helped me strip naked before forcefully pushing me into my bed. I’d never had sex with someone who prefered bigger girls, much less a young woman who fancied me specifically for my fat, so the foreplay was completely new to me. Amber left me lying in bed while she raided my pantry. Upon her return I got hand fed, and my belly rubbed at the same time. Never before had I been made to feel rewarded for my gluttonous eating habits. Being fed was actually turning me on. I could have let her keep feeding me and rubbing me forever, but before long we ran out of food. Before I knew what was happening, her hands and mouth were all over me, exploring every inch of my expansive body. She started touching me in places that I couldn’t even reach, it was like my body was her personal playground. She couldn’t keep her hands off my doughy gut, or her mouth off my swollen breasts, but eventually, as she sucked on my tits, one of her hands moved south and started rubbing my clit. Feeling her hands slip under my rolls and folds… slowly massaging me just right had me so turned on. I was getting close to climaxing, just from her touching me, but before I could, she paused and made an odd request. “Could you make piggy noises while I go down on you?” I wanted to refuse her humiliating request, but I was too desperate for her to continue ravishing my body, so swallowing my pride, instead of answering with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ I just snorted like a pig. As I continued degrading myself for her amusement, Amber went down on me and, let me tell you, she knew how to get me off faster and harder than any guy ever has. Even Tory. Winded after it was all said and done, I lay exhausted in my bed, too heavy, swollen, and tired to move anymore. Then Amber rose to her feet, her body glistening and naked, just as flawless as my own body had once been before I’d beefed up to my current unrecognizable state. Gazing upon me with lust, her fingers began pleasuring herself as I watched her literally get off to my shear fatness. It didn’t take her long to get close. I even threw in a few more pig noises to help her get over the edge. When it was all said and done, Amber cuddled up to me in bed tightly squeezing my fat belly. “So, you really… find my fat… sexy?” I asked, still a little out of breath from my climax earlier. “So sexy.” Amber promised me, as she planted a warm kiss tenderly upon my chubby cheek and for the first time in a long time, I went to bed with a newfound hope for my future romantic endeavors. Diane Sitting in the break room for lunch as usual, I had to admit, as much as I had enjoyed watching Caterina and Charlotte blimp up over the last three years, my expert sabotage was starting to make me unacceptably fat as a consequence. It turns out hanging out with two obese fatties who are always stuffing their faces isn’t good for one’s waistline. I stepped on the scale last week and saw a number that I have never seen before: 302 pounds. I wasn’t happy with that number, and neither was my husband. Now, I was still 200 pounds slimmer than either Caterina or Charlotte, but that didn’t make a whole heck of a lot of difference to me anymore. Sure, I was skinny by comparison, but rolling myself out of bed in the morning was becoming increasingly more difficult for me. I needed to lose some weight. So, when Caterina heaved herself up to grab some coffee from the fridge, I informed Charlie: “I’m thinking of going on a diet.” Charlotte Hearing Diane express that, a little devil on my obese shoulder gave me a great idea. “I’ll help you lose weight!” I announced. I wanted to tell her that she was only a few gym visits away from perfection, but I didn’t want to tip her off to what I was planning. “Would you? That would mean the world to me!” Diane replied, while I imagined Diane’s plump body fattening up all over just like she’d done to Caterina and me. “Anything for you Diane.” I smiled back, as I began to ponder ways to sabotage her into blowing up into a 500-pound blimp just like the rest of us. She thought she’d broken me, but I’d show her. I knew it… I’d get my revenge if it was the last thing I ever did. Looking over at the walking talking Mediterranean dough girl, bending over into the fridge, I knew I had one potential ally to help me. I couldn’t help feeling for what I’d help do to the poor girl. Like me, she was the butt of everyone’s jokes in the office nowadays. Our handsome new boss especially loved to tear her a new one in front of everybody. Even now, I could see him walking up behind her and yell, “Go on keep it up and you’ll end up heavier than the fridge Caterina!” Caterina Smiling in response to Harvey’s teasing, I wiggled my mammoth ass for him to enjoy and then waddled my way back toward my friend’s lunch table, doing my best to conceal how horny he was making me feel. There’s a policy against hooking up with our bosses, but he invited me over for drinks one night shortly after he replaced the old guy and he f*cked my obese ass all night on his couch. The sex wasn’t even the hottest part. It was keeping the secret. At work now, he took any excuse he got to tease me in front of our coworkers… and the sexual tension just escalated each and every day until he f*cked me again. I never thought my life would go the way it has, but finally, I’m getting a taste of what I’ve always wanted. The End

Description: The summer after graduating college, Brook, a bratty, busty, and chronically hungover party girl, wants to take a break year before starting her career, so she winds up lifeguarding at the same country club she used to work at as a slender and athletic high school senior. Over the summer, Brook soaks in the sun, lusts after an ex-boyfriend, and indulges to her heart’s content, only to discover a bit too late that her lazy procrastination has caused her to pack on the pounds at an alarming rate. (Slight WG [WG denial, Stuckage, Embarrassment, Sex) Stuck With a Gut By Polarisdreamer Authors Note: A one-off story made possible by support from my P*a*t*r*e*o*n. Enjoy! Brook When I was a quality athlete, people believed I was the type of girl who celebrated ALL forms of healthy living. Spoiler alert, I am not that type of girl. I have never been that type of girl. And, I never will be. I’m not afraid to admit it. I’m just a girl who lives to eat. Call me all the mean names you want, I don’t care. I cherish my flaws, just as much as I cherish whatever food I can get my greedy hands on. I’m an entitled, lazy, glutton! There I said it! Although, You wouldn’t guess it just by looking at me. My high school friends and coaches always warned me that if I didn’t treat my body like a temple, I’d ruin my athletic figure. They’d say shitty things like: “Poptarts before a workout?? You can’t outrun your fork, Brook! You’re gonna be a blob someday!” OR “Athletic bodies are made from discipline in the kitchen just as much as the gym!” Back then, I punished my body by sweating at the gym, on the track and in the pool, all so that I could eat as much as I liked without having to worry about putting on weight. Okay, if I’m being 100% honest, I also liked watching our high school men's swim team romp around in speedos. So, that’s another reason I stuck with the swim team… but who cares? In college I gave up on sports, the gym, and treated my athletic body like a beer dumpster. It’s probably why I don’t look like an athlete anymore, but you’ll never hear me complaining. I traded a perky rock-hard peach, washboard abs, and a regrettably flat chest for a juicy booty, curvy hips, a soft flat tummy, and jumbo-sized breasts. I went from being the pretty little 5’8 115-pound wallflower that some guys couldn’t help but find attractive, to the busty 165-pound hourglass bombshell all the guys couldn’t resist. Assuming they were straight. I don’t wanna stroke my ego too much. My feeding habits are that of a trained circus animal, every time I do a trick, I get a reward. What do I consider a trick in this metaphor? Basically anything, haha! It’s awful, it’s unhealthy, it frightens my elderly joy-killing parents, but I take no joy in dieting. I know I should stop, after all, over the five years it took me to graduate from college, I gained what? Like 50 pounds? But yeah. I should stop, I know I should stop, but I’m not going to. At the end of the day, life is just too short to count calories. Besides, gaining weight didn’t make me fat, it made me hot. So, whatever. Enter my current conundrum. Finishing college burned me out and I need to recover. I wanted to take a gap year before applying for my first real career job, y’know recharge my batteries a little bit before selling my soul for a wage that could afford to sustain my colossal eating habits, but my parents were not onboard with that idea. They were not okay with their 24-year-old trouble-making daughter living rent-free in their furnished basement unless… I got… at the very least… a part time job. All I wanted to do this summer was sit on my ass, soak in some sun, and indulge to my heart’s content. I knew a part-time job would certainly get in the way of my plans, that is, until I remembered the best job I’ve ever had. I grew up in Minnesota, where lakes are a dime-a-dozen and summer is punishingly humid. From when I was 16 years old to when I turned 19, I spent those long summer days as a lifeguard at a private country club pool. As a bratty, chronically underfed teenage athlete, I was in charge of making sure wealthy people’s kids didn't die. However, aside from the conditioning test the weekend before Memorial Day to ensure us prospective lifeguards were fit to serve, the only thing I ever had to do was blow my whistle a couple of times when kids ran too close to the edge of the pool. It was easy money. I could literally get paid to sit on my ass, work on my tan, and snack my way to satisfaction. The last time I’d been officially certified was five years ago, and I was worried I’d have to attend the stupid six-week training course again, but, lucky for me, my old certification expires in September, which means I am off the hook! All I needed to do was call my old boss, take the conditioning test, and my summer as a carefree lifeguard was a go! … Despite showing up to the interview with my old boss at the country club smelling like an empty bottle of booze, I was once again hired to guard lives by the pool! I suspect the fact that I briefly used to date the elderly man’s son during my senior year of high school played a part in my good luck. Richard’s dad, Chuck, always seemed to fancy me, and now that I’d matured as a woman, there was no way in hell he didn’t want to see me resting my shapely butt on one of those tall lifeguard chairs a few days each week. Of course, this deal was conditional upon me passing the mandatory physical. Since it had never been a problem for me in high school, I didn’t worry about it. Although, perhaps I should have. I wasn’t fat, but I was certainly out of shape. My couch potato ass got winded sometimes reaching for the remote control… Depending on how much food I’d stuffed down my greedy throat. However, rather than expend precious energy trying to get back in shape for the conditioning test, I spent my time frequenting the local bars and chowing down on dinners my local tinder dates bought for me. Then the weekend before Memorial Day arrived and I showed up to get my conditioning test over with. I was the last to walk into the woman’s locker room. Six other candidates had arrived before me, from the looks of them dressed in their matching red one-piece swimsuits, they were all skinny seniors in high school. I felt all their eyes upon me when I entered the room. Immediately I felt a little ostracized for a couple reasons. Eavesdropping on my way to my locker, two of them were gossiping about some reality TV show that I hadn’t seen, two of them were independently playing on their phones, and the last two were chatting about their boyfriends. I felt out of the loop. But worse, I was a size 12 among size twos… At least, I hoped I was still a size 12… I saw their thin, toned and tanned bodies with a slight modicum of nostalgia. Back when I used to force myself to do cardio for two hours every day, a few short years ago, my body had looked an awful lot like theirs. Now I didn’t look quite the same in a bathing suit. My affinity for Jack Daniels and the fancy cheese section at Whole Foods made sure of that. As I slowly wriggled my plump ass into the red one-piece I’d been issued by Chuck, I noted another distinct difference between myself and the other girls. They all looked sleek and sexy with their high neck one-pieces, but Richard’s pervy dad had given me something more… vintage. I don’t know, maybe he really didn’t have anything else in my size, but I don’t know. In front of everyone, I had to squeeze myself into a one-piece with a SWEETHEART NECKLINE! For those of you who don’t know, a sweetheart neckline is a neckline that is low at the front and shaped like the top of a stylized heart. Basically, my bountiful cleavage was completely on display! Luckily the adjustable straps provided enough support for my girls to feel comfortable, but this was a swimsuit for a tropical vacation, not a swimming test. The other girls were speechless when I stood up and joined them in heading out to the pool. We were met by two male wannabe lifeguards, total Zac Efron types, who made no attempts to hide their obvious glances ogling my two massive and exposed flotation devices. As usual, the instructor in charge of conducting the physical tests, barked the following orders: “We will start the conditioning portion testing your ability to retrieve a 10lb dive weight from a depth of seven feet, surface and swim 20 yards with the weight using legs only. Then you must exit the pool without using a ladder within 100 seconds. Then for the next portion of the test, you’ll all get in the pool for a 5-minute tread using legs only. For the final portion of the test there is no time limit. You just need to swim 300-yards using either front crawl or breaststroke. Oh, and after your finished help yourselves to some free food at the snack bar before they close, they’re training new employees, and need the practice.” In my head, the phrase ‘free food’ echoed around for a few moments. My stomach rumbled. I’d eaten a large breakfast and lunch already today, but yet, my body craved more. Together we approach the deep end of the pool. I smelled the chlorine and told myself… I’m okay. I’m okay. I know this. I can do this. I’ve done it before. There is free food waiting for me when I’m done… The others take turns volunteering to go first, and I sit back and watch. The men are the fastest, but the girls aren’t shabby either. Then once everyone else has passed, all eyes turn toward my busty ass. Without a word, I hop in the water, with a much bigger splash than I intended. As I’m swimming down to retrieve the weight, I realize something. I float a lot more than I used to. My buoyant breasts and backside fight against my attempts to reach the bottom of the pool. However, when I retrieve my prize, my natural flotation devices actually seem to help me surface and stay afloat easier than usual. That being said, it’s still a struggle, and of all the potential lifeguards there, I’m the slowest to eventually drag the weight from the water. However, finishing in 91 seconds was nine more seconds than I needed to pass and continue on. For the five minutes tread my higher percentage of body fat once again ended up helping me a great deal, I didn’t even really need to use my legs very much to stay afloat. It was delicious watching the muscular boys and a few of the more muscled girls begin to struggle toward the four-minute mark as they fought to keep their heads afloat. It felt good to be better at something than them, even if it was just lazily floating there. Then came the last test, the 300-yard swim. We all got in the pool at the same time and took off, I kept pace with the young’ins for about a hundred feet before I felt like my lungs were going to explode and I was forced to slow down. F*ck. As the others proceed to outpace me for the next fifteen minutes, I notice some massive side-eye from some of my fellow ladies. I imagine they are probably judging me for my slow pace, but I don’t care. In my head I’ve got an all I can eat buffet waiting for me at the end of this swim, so I keep going, no matter how much it hurts. The others all finish well before I do, but I do eventually finish. Getting out of the pool, I heave myself up the ladder and roll onto my back to catch my breath, I have to be careful that my big breasts don’t slip out of my swimsuit. How long had it taken me to finish? I didn’t know. Did the others already grab their free food? I wasn’t sure. As I lay there gasping for air to sooth my burning lungs and exhausted body, my thoughts continued to run wild… I was once an athlete. I can’t believe I was once an athlete. This used to be easy… Whatever… Free food. Free food. Free food! Chanting my new inner mantra in my head over and over again, I eventually found the strength to get to my feet, just in time to see the other newly certified lifeguards heading back to the locker rooms. Well, most of them. One of the guys was walking in my direction. The others seemed to stop and watch what he was doing. “Hey!” He waved at me. “Huh?” I muttered too tired and starving to really process what was happening just yet. “Yes, you...the cute one!” He emphasized, as he stopped in front of me, blocking my way toward the concession stand and took an obvious glance at my oversized cleavage. Too hungry to deal with this high school jock, I tried to step around him, but he sidestepped, blocking me again. “Oooh, I get it. Playing hard to get, eh? Tee hee hee!” He stupidly laughed like the man-child he was. “Um... Are you...talking to me?” I huffed, probably looking like a seal suffering from heat exhaustion. “Phew, I finally got your attention. Aren't you a sly little minx!” He continued flirting much to my irritation, “So...what's your name, cutie?” “My name? Well... It's Brook, but... Could you move out of my way, please? If I don’t eat something in about five seconds, I’m going to faint…” I pleaded, as the musclebound doof didn’t take the hint. “Brook, eh? That's a cute name.” He mused to himself sounding quite proud. “Oh...it is?” I echoed completely fed up with this distraction. I’d dealt with this type of guy many times before. “I'm Dylan. But I'm sure you already knew that…” He began to blabber on, as I cut him off. “Um...well, actually... Dylan. Excuse me, I have to go… eat.” I managed to shakily explain, as I tried yet again to step past him. He cut me off again, and this time, I wasn’t going to stand for it. A flood of irritated energy flooded through me, and I blinked. The next thing I knew, Dylan had fallen into the pool, the other onlooking lifeguards were all cheering and jeering in my direction and I was trudging toward the concession stand to get my free food. I didn’t know what had just happened, but I didn’t much care. I needed to eat something. Right now. The concession stand was located in the basement of the country club but separate from the club’s main kitchen. The only entrance was a side door near the entrance to the pool area for workers; however, to serve hungry pool goers like me a mini sliding concessions window had been installed on the side of the building fifty years ago or whatever. The wood frame looked old and slightly rotted, but the sliding window itself seemed new enough. It was not unlike one of those mom-and-pop ice cream shop windows. After rounding the brick wall that acted as a noise barrier from the pool area and separated the small eating area from the locker room entrances, I approached the small square looking concessions window and knocked urgently on the glass for someone to open up. After a moment, someone slid open the window. Another high school senior looking fellow. “Sorry, we just closed. I’m the last one here, I’m about to lock up.” He informed me. “What??? Noooo!!” I loudly cried, as dread filled my exhausted body. I felt like collapsing right there and then. “Are you okay??” He asked sounding concerned for me all of a sudden, “You look sick.” “I feel so hungry I could faint.” I pouted in exaggerated fashion, but that’s really how I felt. I swear. I think tears were falling from my cheeks. “Oh no! That’s not good! Hold on, I’ll bring you some food right away!” He assured me. “Really?? That would be wonderful!” I cheered trying to dry my eyes. “So, what do you like? I’ll grab you anything you want.” He explained. “Something delicious. I don’t particularly care what it is. I just want loads of it.” I frankly replied. “Umm, all right. I guess that means you eat pretty much anything?” He questioned, looking a little taken off guard. “Yup.” I assured him. “Okay you stay put! I’ll go get something!” He replied. “Can I have ice cream???” I managed to squeak before he wandered off. “Umm, we only have one of those frozen yogurt machines, I’d have to make a new batch, and umm… I’d really hate for so much to go to waste.” He muttered. “I can eat a whole batch.” I replied completely 100% honest. “One batch is like ten pounds of ice cream. Nobody can eat that much.” He skeptically answered me. “Well, I’m not nobody. I’m Brook Meadows. And I’m hungry.” I conveyed as seriously as I could. “I don’t think we have any utensils left…” He muttered not sounding convinced. “Just make me some ice cream!” I grunted losing my patience for this conversation. Once again, my hangry frustration overcame me, and I blinked… Bobby It was like something just possessed her! One second, I’m staring through the concession window at this pretty lifeguard’s ginormous tits, the next thing I know, she’s trying to climb through it!! Or perhaps squeeze would be more appropriate. The window was small, and the lifeguard, Brook, was really a very busty hourglass. She didn’t look overweight, but she had an obvious feminine softness to her. She had wide hips, but not so wide as to have love handles. Her thighs were full, she didn’t have a thigh gap, but they weren’t overly large. Her stomach wasn’t round, but she had no abs to speak of. Her breasts looked pretty d*mn fat, but the rest of her was just shapely and soft. I watched as this gorgeous terrifying creature fit her arms, head and shoulders through the concession window no problem, but her fat breasts were too chunky to fit straight through. Rather than drag them against the old rotting wooden frame, she elected to use her hands and slowly maneuver them through before once again lurching her attractive body forward and squeezing her midsection through the gap. It seemed like she’d slip all the way through until her soft hips and big butt snagged against the frame. It seemed to my eyes that the girth of her hourglass shape was too great for the tiny concession window, but after wiggling, grunting, and using her arms to drag herself forward after a yelp, she popped forward through the gap and fell right onto me before she hit the ground, knocking me onto my back. “Ugh… What just happened?? Where am I?” She cooed, as if she had no idea what she’d just done. “Are you kidding me? You can’t be back here!” I tried to warn her, as her breasts smothered my face. “Ice cream!” She squeaked, as she pushed herself off of me and hurried up to the ice cream machine, “Will you make me some???” How could I say ‘no’ after all that? Her insistence persuaded me. “Sure.” I said. So, sure enough, I got the materials together and filled up the machine I’d just cleaned. In no time at all, the vanilla soft serve was ready, but we still had no cups or bowls, spoons or straws. I tried telling Brook as much, and in frustration she just shoved me out of the way, bent over backwards, opened her mouth right under the dispenser and pulled the lever. I watched as this insane busty lifeguard drained the ice cream machine directly into her mouth. I’d never seen anything like it. She’d pull the lever, gulp it down, and then pull the lever again. With every gulp, her stomach began to fill. It was like she forgot I was even in the room. She was going to town, gulping down ice cream like a slob. It wasn’t long before her soft stomach began to bloat outward and round out thanks to the massive influx of calories she was consuming so quickly. My eyes were drawn to how tight her red one-piece was looking. She’d gone from busty babe to looking three months’ pregnant in five minutes of gorging. Five minutes later, she was still going at it. To my amazement, her gut had swelled to that of a woman in her sixth month of pregnancy and that’s when it stopped. The ice cream. Not Brook. By all account’s I bet she could have kept going, she’d completely drained the machine! I’d never in my life see someone eat like that. I was speechless. Brook wasn’t. “*Buuuuurrrrpppp!!!!*” She loudly belched, as she slowly wobbled upright and cradled her food baby with both hands before continuing, “That was amazing… I need a nap.” “Well, you can’t nap in here. I’m closing up. You gotta go.” I told her, as she frowned. “Pleaseee!” She begged, but I was insistent. “No, you can’t be in here. I don’t wanna get in trouble.” I urged her. “Fine…” She pouted, as she started walking towards the hallway that led to the exit on the other side of the building. “No, you can’t go out that way.” I halted her, as she stopped and turned around. “Why not?” She wondered. “Chuck set up cameras by the entrance to keep track of who has access to the register. Leave the way you came in.” I told her, pointing at the concessions window. “Are you serious?” Brook wined pinching and inch of her food baby and exclaiming, “Do you have any idea how much ice cream I just ate?” “Yeah, I saw. Still working on believing a girl like you could stomach that much, but yeah. You squeezed in here; you can squeeze out of here.” I ordered, as I shepherded Brook toward the window. Reluctantly, she bent over and stuck her arms through, followed by her head. She paused for a moment; I assume she was carefully maneuvering her big breasts past the wooden frame. With her big butt facing me, I couldn’t resist staring. It was large and full, surprisingly perky for being so soft. Brook slowly started inching forward again, but this time her swollen stomach was a problem. In a moment, her progress slowed to a halt, and she muttered something that my ear’s couldn’t make out. “What? Talk louder!” I yelled. “I might need a hand here…” She loudly squeaked, as she turned her face back toward the window and blushed something fierce. “Stuck?” I assumed. “Yeah…” She admitted, “Give me a hand!” “Umm…” I looked down upon Brook’s voluptuous ass wiggling tantalizing in front of me, “How exactly did you want me to do that?” “Push me!” Brook urged probably wanting to get this embarrassing situation over with. “Where should I put my hands??” I blushed. This girl was clearly a weird one, but I couldn’t help finding her predicament highly attractive. There was something about a vulnerable busty hotty that just struck my fancy. “You have my permission to put your hands wherever you need to! Just get me out of this before someone sees!! Hurry!” She urged, as I went to work. Immediately, my hands were on her ass. It felt incredible. Plump and giggly, I could tell Brook didn’t have a lot of muscle on her. I gave her a hearty shove forward, but she didn’t move a single inch further through the gap. “Ouch!! Let my try and suck it in first!” She yelped, as I watched her midsection clogged into the gap momentarily shrink, as she sucked in her breath. Then, I pushed her forward with all my might. In an instant, Brook successfully surged forward. Only stopping when her hips and thick tush clogged up the gap once again. However, now I knew she could squeeze though. She’d done it before, and food didn’t make someone’s ass bloat. With my help, pushing and cramming every thick inch of Brook’s fat ass through the gap, in a few short moments, she was free and rolled onto the grass in front of the window. “Oh my god, thank you!” She cheered, as she slowly struggled to her feet, and I noticed, as she continued talking, that her one-piece had ripped right around her cleavage area, “What’s your name?” “It’s Bobby.” I simply said, pointing to her bust, and she looked down and realized she was nearly flashing me. “Oh sh*t! Thanks Bobby!” She muttered, as she cupped both breasts with her hands and hurried away, probably back to the locker room to change. Stunned by what had just taken place, I just shook my head, closed my eyes, pictured Brook’s phat butt wedged in the window, and then went about my day closing up shop, hoping as the summer progressed, I’d get to see her again. Brook “Bobby… His name is Bobby. I’ll have to remember his name. He likes to feed me…” I muttered greedily to myself, as I ran inside the locker room and made a mental note to remind Chuck to order me a new swimsuit, at least a size up from the last one… … A few days later, the morning of my first shift at the country club’s pool, I groaned as my phone alarm loudly woke me up. I usually preferred to sleep in until at least 1PM or 2PM, but I couldn’t afford too today. Not when my shift started super early at 11AM. Low on energy and hungover from the night before, I stumbled into my parent’s kitchen looking for something to tide me over until I could stop by a drive thru on my way to the pool for a proper breakfast. As was typical for my parents, they didn’t have anything appetizing in the kitchen, or the pantry, except for a large, unopened jar of peanut butter which I brought downstairs with me, along with a big spoon, so I could snack while I got ready. It took me a few minutes to unscrew the d*mn peanut butter lid, but once I’d succeeded in popping the lid off, I wasted no time in giving the delicious creamy mix a taste. I’ll admit, it would have been better with some chocolate or jam, but I was hungry. So… after sucking down three or four big scoops of creamy peanut butter, I rummaged through my dresser for something suitable to wear to the pool. Chuck had informed me that my new one-piece had arrived and that I could pick it up from his office once I arrived. Deciding to make the pervy old man’s day, I wrangled on a sexy red floral bikini top, a pair of panties, and a pair of dark-blue denim jean shorts. The bikini fit perfectly, but the jean shorts were another story. Perhaps because of how much I’d been indulging at the bar’s lately, buttoning the shorts felt impossible. “Godd*mnit!” I cussed, as I fought against my bloated stomach to clasp the f*cking button into its proper place. However, it was quite apparent to me that my tummy was still swollen into the shape of a round beer gut. It was way too big right now to allow itself to be restrained by the confines of my small shorts. I tried multiple times to force the button together, but the more I tried, the more my bloated stomach refused to endure such discomfort. As if voicing its opposition to my choice of skimpy clothing, it steadily groaned and growled loudly the longer I took to try and force myself into my cute jean shorts. Letting out a frustrated groan, I eventually relented. My morning beer bloat had won this round. Resting my thick booty down upon my soft bed, I looked down upon my protruding fleshy gut with disdain. I gave it a poke, it jiggled… gross. “Better switch to white claws for a little while…” I rationalized, as I fell back into bed and wiggled out of my shorts. Eventually after trying on a few other clothing options, I decided on the most comfortable pair of shorts I owned. An old pair of tight-fitting gym shorts, red in color and with an elastic waist and drawstring to accommodate my morning bloat. They fit comfortably across my waist, although my ass was practically bursting out of them. Whatever. Pick your poison, I guess. Before leaving, I ate a few more scoops of peanut butter, applied some makeup, grabbed my knock-off aviator sunglasses, donned some white tennis shoes, and strode outside to my mom’s car to hit up the drive thru before getting to work. As I drove, I decided on Burger King for breakfast. Yes, it was heavy and very very fattening, but I needed something delicious to lift my spirits after failing to fit into my sexy jean shorts this morning. All things considered only arriving 11 minutes late was a win for me. I probably would have arrived on time, except after polishing off my first whopper in record time, I felt I needed one more for the road to fully satiate me. Hopping out of my mom’s car, and feeling like a bloated cow, I proceeded to dump all my wrappers into a nearby trash can, I licked my greasy fingers, took one last gulp of my cup of coke, trashed it, and then grabbed my jar of peanut butter before I headed inside to Chuck’s office. However, when I let myself in, it wasn’t pervy old Chuck waiting for me, it was… “Richard!?” I yelped with a surprised tone in my voice, as I clutched my jar of peanut butter tightly and tried to suck my bloated tummy in. However, I was simply too full, my bloated belly remained rounded outward despite my best efforts to conceal it. “Brook! How are you doing? You still eating everything in sight?” My ex-boyfriend teased, as he looked at what I was holding and approached me for a hug. Wrapping my arms around him for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t get over how good he felt. So strong, so sturdy. When I was 18, Richard had been a 21-year-old college track star. I’d spent my whole summer lusting after him. We flirted heavily, but I was young, inexperienced, and he had a busty college girlfriend. Our cliched forbidden romance came to a head at the very end of the summer, he’d just broken up with his girlfriend which meant that I got to enjoy a night of euphoric drunken rebound sex with him followed by a few weeks of long-distance dating before we split by the end of September. Ahh, summer love. It’s something short and sweet. Seeing him now looking so good brought up so many sultry memories. “Yeahhh, I guess.” I responded, blushing fiercely for getting called out on my poor eating habits, “I’m doing well, just graduated.” “Congratulations.” Richard smiled, as his eyes took in my considerably more feminine figure, and then poked me right in my exposed belly button, “What’d they feed you at Douglass University? Peanut butter for breakfast, lunch and dinner? You really filled out.” “Umm… No…” I blushed even more fiercely than I did a second ago, “Just the usual cafeteria buffet stuff…” “Well, you look good.” Richard smiled approvingly, much to my relief. “Good.” I awkwardly nodded too embarrassed to think clearly. After a brief moment of silence, Richard continued, “*Ahem* Here’s your new uniform. I thought Dad made a mistake when he had you down for a size 14, but d*mn. Guess he was right… How umm… How long are you gonna be staying in the area?” “I’d like to get a job in town, so… for the forceable future I guess.” I managed to shakily reply. “Well, I move back in September. I’d love to take you out to dinner if you’re up for it?” Richard smoothly asked. “Dinner?” I echoed, my mouth watering even though I’d just ate a big burger breakfast, “Why not tonight?” “I’ve got a plane to catch tonight. Otherwise, I’d love to.” Richard explained, as I accepted my new one-piece from him. To my surprise, it was blue, not red like the rest of them. “Bummer.” I frowned, before continuing, “but, umm… September sounds good.” “Good.” Richard smiled, appearing pleased with my response. Sexual tension was in the air, both of us could sense it. However, with the timing of things being what it was, neither of us wanted to make the first move. So, I retreated. For now… “Umm, well, I better get going, I’m already late for my first shift.” I muttered, slowly backing away towards the door. “Classic Brook. You haven’t changed one bit.” Richard chuckled. The way he laughed made my heart beat through my chest. “Haha, not really!” I giggled, as I snuck my way out the door and pranced down the hallway toward the entrance to the pool. Compared to running into Richard again, my first shift was completely uneventful. My new one-piece fit like a charm, although just like my previous one, it also had a sweetheart neckline… I spent the day lazing around on my butt, tanning my chest, lifeguarding, stalking Richard on Facebook and Instagram, and polishing off my entire jar of peanut butter by my shift’s end. … As the month of June rolled around, I fell into a delightfully lax schedule. I was scheduled to work at the pool every other day, so I had plenty of time off to do what I wanted. When I wasn’t at the pool lounging and snacking to my heart’s content, I was spending my hard-earned money at my town’s finest bars getting ** on cheap beer and stuffing my face with pizza, wings, burgers, anything I could afford that looked good. The only real annoyance I had to content with on a weekly basis was Dylan, one of my fellow lifeguards who seemed to be completely obsessed with me, aka my breasts… “Brook!” Dylan cheered upon seeing me, sitting cross-legged on my towel, enjoying my lunch break under the shade of one of the club’s large oak trees. “Oh, hello…” I mumbled with my mouth full of turkey, bacon, lettuce, tomato, mustard, mayonnaise, and plenty of toasted white bread. “Double sandwiches again?” He stupidly pointed out, as my second turkey BLT remained wrapped up on my blanket next to the empty wrapper of the one I was currently stuffing my face with. “Yeah, what of it?” I countered blushing a little bit. I hated it when people pointed out my gluttonous habits like this. “Nothing, just… do you have something against chips?” He questioned clearly alibiing this dull conversation off the top of his head. “I love chips, but two sandwiches are a better bang for my buck than one sandwich and a bag of chips.” I explained honestly, but just from the look on Dylan’s dumbfounded face, I could tell the muscle-bound doof didn’t understand, so I muttered in an annoyed tone, “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy my lunch.” “Oh, I umm…. I picked these flowers for you. Thought you might like them.” He replied, as he revealed an obviously store-bought bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “Oh…” I hummed trying to decide if I should be polite in my rejection or ruthless. “W-what? You don’t like them?” Dylan worriedly muttered. At first, I found Dylan’s obvious pickup attempts annoying, but now, two weeks into the summer, they were just coming off as more pathetic and desperate every time. I decided to let him down easy this time, “Well…” However, it seemed he misunderstood my change in tone, “Oh? Good! So, you do like them??” “No, it’s just that… umm…” I tried to explain but ended up losing my steam. Finally seeming to catch my drift, Dylan nodded, “No good, eh?” “Nope. I’m not one of those girl’s that’s into flowers.” I answered far more straightforward than I’d been a second ago, “You can’t eat flowers.” “What are you into?” Dylan almost begged to know. “…” I didn’t really think about it, I just looked down at my sandwich, took a big bite, and blurted loudly with my mouth full, “Food!” “Like a box of chocolates?” He questioned, seeming to follow along. Gulping down the mess of food I’d just forced into my mouth, I responded, “I mean, yeah if you wanna get me something, chocolate is fine. I like anything that’s delicious, really. But don’t expect me to date you just because you buy me one measly box of chocolates. You could buy me twenty boxes of chocolate and I still wouldn’t feel compelled to date you. Understand??” “Understood.” Dylan replied looking more hopeful than I’d ever seen him before. I kinda thought he’d be a little more disappointed after getting rejected like that, so I questioned, “Do you?” “I do. Don’t you worry, your pretty little head about it.” He smiled before tossing the flowers on the ground and walking away. Bobby After my encounter with Brook over Memorial Day weekend, I saw quite a lot of the busty lifeguard as the summer progressed. I think my shifts at the snack bar overlapped with her shifts lifeguarding quite a lot. It seemed like anytime I was working, Brook was making her way over to order something at least every hour. Most of my regular customers tended to order the same types of things, but not Brook. She never seemed to order the same thing twice. Her cravings were all over the place. One day she ordered two hot dogs around noon, okay, well it was two hot dogs on one bun, Brook tended to haggle with her orders. She wanted two hot dogs, but only wanted to pay for one. After arguing with her for five minutes, I gave in and let her have her the double hot dog for the price of one just to keep the line moving. The next time I was working, it was the same thing but with burgers. She was a constant headache to deal with, but she was just so ridiculously attractive I found myself almost perversely looking forward to her disruptive antics each and every day. I quickly learned that Brook simply loved to snack. When she wasn’t nibbling on something she ordered from the snack bar, I’d see her constantly chowing down on something she managed to mooch off of someone else. I’d seen her beg for goldfish, Oreos, even pizza, from lounging parents. Poor Dylan is a perfect example of this. For two weeks, she’d been leading him on in order to extort food from him. The guy was so hopelessly lovestruck that he started buying her a box of chocolates every shift, thinking the way to her heart was through her bottomless stomach, but I was beginning to know better. She was just shamelessly using Dylan for his wallet. I was careful not to fall into the same trap. The only thing she cared about was food, that was it. Pure and simple. I could appreciate that Brook was very nice eye candy, but she wasn’t worth getting attached too or involved with. Besides, there was another lifeguard, Amber, who I had my eyes on. Around the time the 4th of July rolled around, I was minding my own business, manning the snack bar, when I noticed a familiar pair of busty breasts bouncing up to the concession window. “Something smells delicious today…” She hummed in her typical bubbly voice. Looking through the window to respond, I couldn’t help but notice the fact that her blue one-piece appeared to be digging into her hips a little more than usual. It was like her swimsuit had shrunk in the wash or something… Or she had filed out… Her abdomen was looking a bit misshapen. It looked more rounded and puffy than usual… Love handles… Brook had sprouted love handles. They were pressing against the sides of her swimsuit, straining it to the limit. Her arms looked thicker than I remembered, as did her calves and thighs. And her breasts… They’d gone up a size for sure. My summer eye candy had gotten pudgy. “That’s probably the Domino’s pizza. Chuck really splurged for the holiday.” I reasoned, as Brook hummed with apparent surprise and excitement. “Mhhh! Pizza sounds good. How much is it?” She wondered swaying her breasts side to side. It was hypnotic. Brook had put on some weight, but she was still hot. “A dollar. Same as with the usual frozen stuff.” I assured her. “How much for a full pizza?” Brook innocently inquired. “Eight slices, eight dollars.” I firmly stated, sensing Brook was about to haggle with me. “How about five dollars for a full pizza?” She countered, before attempting to illicit some sympathy from me, “I’ve only got five bucks… If I had eight, I’d pay eight. I swear.” “I’m sure. It’s eight dollars for eight slices. I don’t know how to be any clearer about that.” I replied once again trying to hold my ground. “Come on, it’s a holiday… And I’m hungry…” Brook pouted, before blinking a couple of times and making her eyes glisten with freshly produced crocodile tears, “I’m so hungry I could faint…” “This again? Come on Brook. You’re not starving.” I expressed my doubt much to Brook’s irritation. “Pleaseeee! What do you want from meee???” She whined pathetically. “Eight dollars.” I succinctly replied with a slight smug satisfaction I might add. “Ugh!!” Brook fumed, “Come on, I need food! How am I supposed to guard lives on an empty stomach!” “Your stomach doesn’t look empty.” I pointed out, as Brook blushed something fiercely. I used to be a little intimidated by the busty college graduate, but not anymore. She acted way less mature than her age and now she was quickly eating herself into a less extraordinary specimen. It had become a lot easier to mess with her like this. Grasping her gut with both hands, she bit her lip in frustration, puffed her upper lip up and then let out a large sigh before replying, “Okay.” “Okay.” She repeated sounding more annoyed than before. “Okayyy!” She repeated once again, getting a crazy look in her eyes. It looked like the girl was about to throw a tantrum and I didn’t want her causing a scene in the middle of the day trying to squeeze her thick butt into the snack bar again. “Brook! Jesus, just chill out. I’ll loan you the three dollars you’re short of, but you owe me.” I conceded. Once again, she’d broken my resistance. I knew d*mn well she would never pay me back in a million years. She probably knew that too. “Really?” Brook muttered suddenly looking at a loss for words. “Really, now pay up before I changed my mind.” I sighed, as Brook smiled something wild and bounced up and down with satisfaction. Her breasts were jiggling all over the place in response. In her joy to hand me her five-dollar bill, she reached between her generous bosom, pulled out a sweaty five-dollar bill, dropped it, and I watched as the wind carried it behind her. Without even thinking, the busty beauty just bent over giving me a full view of her backside. It looked like she had quite the wedgy going on thanks to her overly meaty cheeks. It looked to my eyes like her ass had gotten even bigger since the incident over Memorial Day weekend. “Sorry about that, here you go.” Brook smiled, as she picked up her money, turned around and handed it to me. “No problem. Here you go. Enjoy.” I smiled in return, while I handed Brook the full box of pizza. Opening it up in front of me and taking a big sniff in, Brook then looked at her pizza and frowned, “I thought I smelled pepperoni. What gives?” “Pepperoni is a dollar fifty a slice.” I explained, as I noticed that familiar rage building up in Brook’s eyes again, “Why are you looking at me like that?” “The peperoni smelled delicious…” She hissed looking like some demon had just possessed her. “Eat the pizza you paid for. And if you’re still hungry, I’ll give you a piece of peperoni, okay? On the house.” I promised to try to defuse this delicate situation. “Okay. I’ll be back.” Brook grunted with her best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression. I figured once she’d had something to eat, she’d calm down and forget about my offer, but as usual, when it came to Brook, I was wrong. 15 minutes later, seriously, only fifteen minutes later. I timed it. Brook returned. “There is no way you ate all that.” I doubted, as I watched Brook waddle toward me. Although, her bloated midsection looked even larger than it did before. “This food-baby begs to differ,” Brook announced smugly, as she stopped in front of the window and gave her gut an impressive slap. It jiggled almost as much as her breasts did. “You can’t still be hungry.” I doubted, while Brook transitioned to cradling her gut as if it really was a baby. “I’m not hungry, I’m starving!” Brook burst, looking more determined than ever to beg me to give her more food. “You’re starving? After just shoveling down a whole cheese pizza? How can you possibly eat so much and still be hungry?? Didn’t Dylan already give you a box of chocolates today?? Are you secretly a bear about to hibernate or something??” I exclaimed tired of her bullsh*t. “Hibernate?? I don't hibernate!!” She angrily replied. “Two days ago, you almost ate that meatball sub you ordered right out of my hands! What is wrong with you???” I countered seriously, as concerned for this girl as I was with my own wellbeing when she was acting this crazy around me. Suddenly for a moment the crazy look in Brook’s eyes went away and she replied, “To be honest, I don't know why I'm so hungry all the time. I'm never full. I always get hungry as soon as I finish eating... I can’t explain it. I’ve always been like this…” “What?! That's just...incredible! That sounds like a serious problem.” I exclaimed unsure how much I should trust Brook’s word for it. “It’s only a problem if I don’t get enough food.” She explained sounding more serious. “Well... good luck with that. I’m sure you can get something else when you’re done your shift.” I replied, attempting to end the conversation and close the window, but Brook quickly put her hand out and stopped me. “Er... Excuse me? Can you wait a minute?” She chirped. “What?” I muttered seeing that crazy look in her eyes burning ever crazier. “Haven't you forgotten something?” Brook hummed sounding insistent, but looking nuts. She was seriously still after the pizza. I couldn’t believe it. I tried playing dumb, “Now, let me think… Nope! Didn’t forget anything!” “My peperoni pizza??” Brook inquired deadly serious. Knowing she wasn’t above squeezing her way inside to get what she wanted, I gave in, handed Brook a whole peperoni pie, and wished her on her way. The second the food changed hands, Brook changed into a completely different person. Suddenly she was that carefree bubbly lifeguard all over again. As she waddled away, swaying her luscious hips back and forth, I wondered if anyone else saw this side of her, or if she just unleashed it around me. After my close call on the 4th of July, I bit the bullet and asked to change my schedule, so I wasn’t working when Brook was. She was just too disruptive and her poor eating habits were starting to impact my wallet, as I had to cover the difference when she haggled her way out of paying for all the food she was gobbling down. For the rest of the month of July, life was a breeze. I’d lost my eye candy, but I’d also lost a lot of stress by scheduling Brook out of my life. However, at the rate she was packing on the pounds I was sure most people wouldn’t be considering her eye candy for much longer… Brook As the month of August came and went, my indulgent and carefree summer was rapidly coming to an end. I was sad. Labor Day, the first Monday of September and the last day the swim club remained open this season, was only a few days away. Soon I’d have to get a real job, start taking my life seriously, and probably move out of my parent’s house. Oh joy… I am not thrilled about kissing my life of sweet indulgent freedom goodbye just yet… Waking up for my last shift at the pool was a grueling experience. Last night I went hard at the bars in town and was really feeling hungover and bloated today. The first thing my eyes saw when I opened them was my substantial belly blocking the view of my feet. I tried to pull myself up from the bed, but my mushy middle didn’t possess the strength right now to sit me upright. Once upon a time, I used to kick myself out of bed with minimal effort, now I was forced by necessity to awkwardly roll off of it. Once my feet were off the side of the bed and I was sitting upright, I muffled a loud yawn with my left hand and then braced my oversized, mushy breasts with both of my pudgy arms. Feeling an itch, I groggily scratched my soft chin before wobbly standing up and lumbering to the bathroom. On my way, I could feel my belly jiggling up and down, as I hurried. I really had to pee. Sitting down upon the toilet to relieve myself, it felt like the darn thing had shrunk or something, my ass totally overflowed both sides of the toilet. Once I flushed, I hopped in the shower and let the warm water wake me up before wandering upstairs for some coffee. However, upon entering my parent’s kitchen, I found a note from my mom, not the usual cup of iced coffee. Apparently, she’d gone to a doctor’s appointment and taken the car. Sh*t! How was I supposed to get to work on time?? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I had to get ready. Rushing back downstair, my pajamas came off and my swimsuit came on. The d*mn thing had shrunk in the wash, just like my last one which I had to replace back around the beginning of August, but luckily, I was able to still squeeze into it, although it didn’t make my tits, stomach, or butt feel all that comfortable. As I wrangled on a pair of stretchy grey gym shorts up my thick and soft thighs, my stomach rumbled loudly and my brain went to work trying to figure out something to do for food, and how to get to work on time. Rushing into the garage, my dad’s car wasn’t there either, he was probably at work. My old bike was sitting in the corner of the room. I hadn’t ridden it in years, but I was considering it now. However, as I picked up my old helmet and tried it on, I couldn’t even get the straps to fasten under my chin. Clearly the bike and all my old biking gear wasn’t fit for a fully grown woman such as myself. Instead, I grabbed my phone and pondered who was available to give me a ride. Since I’d graduated a year late from university, pretty much all of my high school friends had moved home and moved out well before I did. That only left a few options. Dylan was working today at the swim club, and he had a car, I knew that boob-obsessed bozo would do anything for me, but that was a desperate option… I wasn’t desperate. Since it was September, that meant that Richard was probably back in town. We never settled on our dinner plans, so I decided to text him and see if he could give me a lift to work. Lucky for me, he replied pretty quickly informing me he’d be at my place in ten minutes. If my math was correct that meant I’d arrive only five minutes late at the swim club if we didn’t stop for any sort of breakfast on the way. Roaming back into my parents’ kitchen, I checked the place for something to satisfy my morning hunger. There wasn’t much to choose from. My mom had a book club meeting later tonight, and had made a 12 serving chipotle pasta salad that was currently chilling in the refrigerator with a sticky note on it that warned: “If you eat this Brook, you’re dead to me.” My mother had such a funny sense of humor. Without any other options, I crumbled up my mom’s sarcastic sticky note, grabbed my mom’s pasta salad and went to work satisfying my hunger, while I continued to get ready. I wanted to make sure I looked extra pretty when I saw Richard, so I went a little extra with my makeup. By the time I heard his familiar honk outside my parent’s house, I decided to take the rest of the pasta salad with me and finish it in the car. I’d probably devoured at least six servings in the last 10 minutes, but I wasn’t nearly satisfied. My stomach felt full, but my hunger remained unabated. Carrying it in both hands, I carefully exited the front door of my parents’ house and waddled over to Richard’s jeep. “Oh wow, Brook. Jeez.” Richard gasped, as he got a look of my big breakfast. “What? I’m hungry and this is all my mom had in the fridge.” I defended myself, as I opened the door to Richard’s jeep and rested my big booty down into his passenger seat. The seat was far more comfortable than I remembered. Perhaps he’d gotten some new cushions? “Wasn’t talking about the pasta salad Brook. D*mn. Have you been gorging yourself like this all summer? You got huge!” Richard exclaimed, as I realized he wasn’t looking at my pasta salad, but at my bloated belly. “I’m just bloated from drinking last night.” I denied Richard’s claim, as I rubbed my full stomach. Reaching over and pinching my mushy love handles Richard teased, “You feel squishy. This is fat Brook. Not bloat. All that overeating’s really catching up with you.” “It is not.” I growled feeling my cheeks burning red from embarrassment, “Can we just go? I’m already late for work.” “Sure…” Richard hummed shifting the car in to gear and taking off. As we drove things were quiet for a few minutes, but I didn’t care. The silence gave me time to brunt the embarrassment I was feeling by guzzling the last of my mom’s pasta salad down my throat. When I was finally finished, I couldn’t hold in a little, “*BUuurrppp!*” “Gross.” Richard commented much to my irritation. “What? It’s a burp. Everybody does it.” I grunted, as I tossed the empty bowl into his back seat and grasped my rounded belly with both hands for comfort. “You look pregnant.” He pointed out. “It’s just a food baby. Lots of girls get them.” I justified. Silence again filled the car. Richard hit a bump in the road, and I could feel my boobs jiggle as a result. They were feeling extra sensitive recently, they even looked even more swollen than they usually did. When Richard hit another bump, I decided to break the silence with a request, “Would you mind stopping at Starbucks? I need some coffee.” “No problem.” Richard nodded, as he changed lanes and turned into the Starbucks drive thru we were approaching. As we waited in line, Richard attempted small talk, “So… Anything eventful happen this summer at the club?” “Umm…” I hummed, resting my elbow on my gut, as I thought about it before answering, “Some creepy father of four pretended to drown so I’d give him mouth to mouth.” “Seriously??? When did that happen?” Richard exclaimed. “Umm, the July 4th weekend.” I responded. “That’s nuts.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know. Seems like lots of guys are dying for me to give them mouth to mouth.” I smirked, deciding to shoot my shot with Richard. I’d been stalking his social media all summer. I know we didn’t get off on the right foot today, but we had a past together, I still felt like I had a shot, “How about you?” “Mouth to mouth? With you?” Richard repeated, stalling. Perhaps I’d caught him off guard. “Yeahhh.” I hummed batting my eyelashes at him and smiling fiercely. I even posed in such a way so that my ** cleavage was firmly in his view. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking at my breasts, then gazing lower and looking a bit turned off, “I don’t think so.” “Why not?” I pouted feeling the sting of rejection. “I don’t know. I just don’t have those feelings for you anymore.” He explained. “I thought you wanted to get dinner with me in September. It’s September! What changed over the summer??” I questioned probably sounding a little bit too desperate. My dry run these last six weeks was getting to me. Masturbation just wasn’t cutting it. “I don’t know how to put this delicately, but… You put on weight.” Richard revealed much to my anger and embarrassment. “I… I-I… I have not!” I gasped, wishing right now that I hadn’t eaten so much for breakfast. “Look, Brook… I’ll always care about you, so I’m not going to bullsh*t you. I wanna date someone like me, who keeps in shape. Nothing against you personally.” Richard tried to explain, but at this point I wasn’t hearing it. “Whatever…” I pouted crossing my arms under my ginormous tits and pouting. I ended up ordering a large coffee, and a dozen breakfast pastries. Richard didn’t say anything, on our ride to the pool as I stuffed my face. However, once he dropped me off and said goodbye, I knew that was the last time I’d see him. My gut was so swollen with food that I couldn’t even bend at the waist to retie my shoes. Richard wouldn’t wanna touch me with a 10-foot pole. Our impulsive love had always been superficial. I shouldn’t have expected anything more from an ape like him. Moving on from my irritation, I carefully waddled into the pool area, only to find it practically deserted. It was a cloudy day, looked like it was going to rain. It was no wonder nobody was around. Feeling fat and depressed, I waddled towards the women’s locker room to put my stuff away. It felt like if I made any wrong move, I might just pop my swimsuit right then and there. The straps were groaning against the seams of the suit, they were handing on, but it didn’t feel like I could really afford to breath… Moments away from entering the girl’s locker room, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. Dylan’s musclebound figure awaited my eyes once I turned around. I was not in the mood to deal with this annoying Zac Efron look-alike right now, although the goof had grown on me over the course of the summer. “Brook! I found these exquisite seashell earrings the other day, stunning right? Why don’t you take them. They’d look really pretty on you.” He offered, as he extended his hands and showed me the jewelry in question. “Oh…” I hummed sounding exhausted with his constant attempts to impress me. Although, as low as I was feeling after Richard rejected me, it was nice to feel wanted, even if it was coming from a dumb jock like Dylan. “Not interested, are you?” Dylan frowned seemingly disappointed I hadn’t gotten excited just from looking at his gift. He should have known by now that I much preferred food. Still though, the earrings looked expensive, and I didn’t want to sound too ungrateful. “It’s not that…” I shrugged, “I’m not a very material person.” “I know… I just thought…” He paused, looking down and away from me. “What?” I echoed. I hated it when he made me feel sorry for him like this. The 18-year-old was attractive, he could have any girl he wanted; it was his own fault he kept hitting on me. Were my breasts that perfect in his mind that he could overlook all my other flaws?? Or maybe his crush on me wasn’t that superficial. After all, he knew my flaws, he totally enabled my constant gluttony, he could probably see I’d sprouted a bit of a noticeable gut this summer, yet… He keeps trying to win my affection. Dylan frowned, clearly saddened by my response, and said, “To be honest, I was thinking that if I gave you something you really liked, you might come out to dinner with me sometime…” Dinner? As pained and full as my stomach was at the moment, the word dinner still made my tummy flutter with excited butterflies. My face lit up. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t turn down a free meal, even if it was coming from Dylan. My response was immediate and looked like it took the poor lifeguard completely off guard, “Oh! I wouldn't mind joining you... if dinner’s involved.” “Really!?” Dylan gasped with excitement, “I will take you to the finest purveyor of salacious foods in town! I promise!” “A fine restaurant? Tasty food? I can’t wait!” The glutton inside me accepted. The logical side of me was too weak to regain control, “Pick me up at 8PM sharp. I’ll be ready.” … It was too late to change my mind. I’d accepted a dinner date with Dylan. I knew he’d tell everyone about it too, but at this point, the summer was practically over, Richard had rejected me, and I wouldn’t have to put up with my lifeguard coworkers for much longer anyway. Besides, I was hungry. And **. And horny. Because Dylan wasn’t 21, we couldn’t drink together in public. So, I’d taken the liberty of downing five or six mixed drinks prior to his arrival. Luckily, I’d gotten all dolled up before I started drinking. Otherwise I’d of been a real mess when he came to pick me up. I’d spent half an hour trying to squeeze into some of my old cute cocktail dresses, but none of them fit thanks to my stupid gut. Richard had been onto something, I had gained some serious poundage… I took a step on my mother’s scale and at 205lbs, it turned out I had packed on quite a lot of weight this summer. I wasn’t that busty lifeguard every guy lusted over anymore; I was chubby. Very chubby. Certainly overweight. Borderline fat. I don’t know, maybe I was chubby by American standards and fat by the world’s standards. I was **. I didn’t know. So, I had to raid my mother’s closet. Once upon a time, she’d been chubby, so I hoped she still had some cute dresses in larger sizes that I could steal for the occasion. Eventually, I found something worth wearing. This cute summer dress I found had an airy, breezy ruffle design to minimize my chunky waistline, wide hips and girthy backside, it featured an open back, and halter tie bust so I could show off my swollen cleavage. It was a tight fit around my swollen tits, and slightly less tight around my gut and butt. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best I could do with the limited time I had available. In my tipsy state I was actually worried Dylan wouldn’t find me attractive, but once he picked me up and we started talking, I should have known better… “You know… You look a little… different today.” Dylan commented, as he drove me to Olive Garden. “How so? I know I’ve put on a little weight recently…” I worriedly replied, trying to adjust my dress to make sure my bulkier gut was properly concealed. “You’re looking cuter than usual.” He said putting my worries at ease with that silly way he loved to flatter me. “Really?!” I squeaked giddy for the complement. “Yeah, definitely a little cuter.” Dylan smiled seemingly on cloud nine that I was in his sh*ty old Honda with him. Dinner was delicious. Dylan took me to Olive Garden, and he didn’t seem to mind that I made a proper pig of myself. I ate three baskets of breadsticks, two cheesy dips, pasta, pizza, and steak. Plus dessert. Cheesecake, Cannoli’s, and ice cream. Stuffed to the gills, Dylan eventually drove me home after our lovely dinner. I didn’t talk much, Dylan did, but honestly, I didn’t really mind. For once, he wasn’t annoying to me. Quite the opposite actually. Maybe it was the alcohol, the food, or just his persistence, but for once, I felt like returning his affection. He walked me to my parents’ door, and I accepted his nervous kiss. After all, nobody was watching, and it had been a while for me. One kiss turned into another, and before I knew it, we were in the basement getting frisky on my bed. I was so freaking full and inflexible, I couldn’t exactly do much, but Dylan was more than happy to put in 99% of the work. He undressed me, then himself, and then gave my ample breasts a luscious amount of attention, turning me on to the point I was begging for it. And then he gave it to me. It didn’t take long for each of us to get our rocks off. As we lay together naked and cuddling, in the aftermath of our spontaneous hook up, I didn’t have much to say, but my belly did. After a loud rumble, Dylan muttered, “What as that?” “I’m just… hungry.” I admitted shamefully. Even though I’d eaten a ton for dinner and my belly was still the size of a watermelon, the orgasm made me hungry regardless. “How?” Dylan wondered, putting a hand on my big belly and trying to figure out how I could possibly want more considering I was so d*mn stuffed. “I don’t know. It’s a curse.” I shrugged, trying not to blush. Seeing the gluttonous lust in my eye, he nodded and replied smoothly, “Well, I don’t have any food on me right now, but I can go get you something right away.” He tried to get up, but I rolled on top of him and pinned him down with my excessive anchor of a belly. Slowly wiggling myself lower upon him, I cooed, “Please... don't leave... not yet… I’m not done with you yet…” Before he could respond, my greedy lips reached their destination. “Whoa there…” Dylan sighed, as he grabbed my hair, while I wrapped my engorged breasts around his stiffy. He helped me rock up and down, as I started giving him the best titty cushioned blowjob of his life. Dylan was young and horny for me. It didn’t take me long to set him sailing. With a hungry gulp, I cooed, “Mmmmm… so… tasty… Now, go grab me a snack like a good boy.” “Yes Brook!” He chirped as he rolled off the bed and started trying to find his clothes. Rolling back onto my back, my arms cradled my expansive gut. If I kept eating like this, I knew deep down that I’d be stuck with it for the rest of my life. I know my habits are awfully unhealthy, I know I should stop living like this… eating like this… after all, over the summer alone, I gained what? Like 50 pounds?? I should stop, I know I should stop, But… I’m not going to. Life is just too short to count calories. Besides, I did my trick for Dylan, and I wanted my reward.

OK guys so today I had my first experience of getting stuck in a public place 🤭 I tend not to go out much but I had an appointment at the doctors and imagine my horror to find that all the chairs had arms on them 😫 I sat down, got my arse in and I'm thinking OK this is fine.....my name gets called a few minutes later and I stand up 🙈 the full chair comes with me. Does anyone else have any hot stories about getting stuck while out in public? Knowing all eyes were on me and my massive booty was such a secret turn on.