âUh, maybe you should call it a day?â Tentative words, twinged with a mix of disgust, awe and concern. However, Sofia couldnât pick out which note was most dominant in his voice.
âMhmmph,â Her lips smacked as she reached for another salty, greasy, crispy, delectable battered, fried, chicken wing. âJust getting our moneyâs worth, babe.â She said between bites, teeth stripping the tender meat clean off the wing. She put the whole thing into her mouth and worked her jaw quickly, pulling free a bare, pale stick of bone, only a tiny leftover piece of golden batter on the bottom. It clattered to the plate as she quickly leaned forwards on her protesting gut and sipped hard on the straw of her sugary drink. Then she reached for another wing.
âI think youâve made your moneyâs worth⌠And mine.â Quin said, eyeing the stack of sauce and oil covered plates next to Sofia. Sheâd started slow with sushi and a little salad before snowballing into entrees. Decadent meats and rich pastas, fried chicken drenched in thick sauces and lobster drowned in butter, seafood and duck and tacos and nachos - she devoured bread and fries and nuggets and wings and whatever else crossed her path along the way too. Shit, heâd even seen her eating from her plate while strolling around looking for other foods, so he probably hadnât even seen everything.
She crammed some fries in to chase the rest of the last wing and munched. Swallowing, an almighty bulge in her throat for a moment before she worked a napkin between her fingers to clean them, careful not to damage her long, shellacked nails as she did. Actually picking her drink up this time, she took a huge drag on the straw, a moment a noisy slurping at the bottom of her glass echoing out to signal her ending that too. âIâm almost done.â Leaning back and rubbing the side of her gut, Quinn had to try not to stare at the slither of belly that was on show - her distended bulge too large for the length of her black, ribbed top at this point. He wondered how the denim of her jeans wasnât uncomfortable to her⌠Or how the button was holding. She stopped rubbing abruptly as an âURRpppâ forced her to sit up. Stifling her burp from fully escaping, she held a hand over her mouth and let you a long, long, looong, low rumble that everyone within a few meters radius would have been able to hear if it werenât for the ambient chatter of patrons. Sighing in relief, she giggled, âwow, that just made a lilâ more room.â Holding out the empty glass to Quin, she continued, âgrab me another one and Iâll go get some dessert.â
Dumbfounded, he took the large glass, ignoring the fatty residue under his fingers as he looked into its emptiness. âO-okay.â He felt numb as they both rose from the table. Her posture was slightly askew for a moment due to all the food sheâd inhaled. Then, with a strength Quin wasnât sure he could replicate, she stood straight, gave a little stretch, and walked off into the throngs of food to find even more fuel for her hedonistic rampage. He watched her go. Jesus, he hadnât seen her eat like this since she was pregnant. Wait - fuck - she wasnât pregnant again was she? The twins had just moved out and he couldnât be dealing with that shit again. Being teens in their first foray into parenthood had left too much of a scar to want to go through that again - even if Sofia seemed far too game to keep popping out more children. God⌠No, even if she did look semi pregnant right now, she couldnât have been.
Walking over to the soda fountains in the corner, Quin refilled the glass, thinking about what was going on. Recently, she was always hungry. But then was it just recently? Sofia had always had an appetite so, really, he shouldnât have been surprised. Theyâd gotten together as high school sweethearts years and years ago. Coming from a latin background her family were always super food orientated and sheâd been proud to be a big eater. Being as sporty as she was back in the day, none of the weight actually stuck to her then anyway. Well⌠Nowhere besides her incredibly prominent chest. That had been a big part of the reason theyâd started dating. Her insane hourglass and the impossibly big chest she somehow retained despite being a cheerleader and a dancer and a rower were big factors in the initial inception of their relationship. Still, even after the sports had stopped and they had kids and eventually got married, she never really got too fat. Sure, she got a bit of chub, her face rounding out slightly and her belly expanding, but that was all overshadowed by the rest of her curves only seeming to gain at least proportionally (some areas very disproportionately) with everything else.
On top of her curves, her confidence - which had been sky high to begin with - had only magnified throughout their relationship. Sofia had never asked him if her gain was a problem or ever even asked the all too common question of âam I still hot?â after she got pregnant. She owned her shape and her body at any and all sizes and used it masterfully to get whatever she wanted from him. Including this refill. Sighing, he headed back to the table. Sofia was there with two plates, laden with fruit and cakes and sweets. She was happily spooning tiramisu past her ruby, plush lips when he returned. âThanks, babe.â She said, taking the drink and guzzling down half of it in a few strong sucks of the straw.
It didnât take her long to finish everything else and soon enough, they were in the car park, heading back to their car. Sofia had hooked her arm around Quins and pulled him close, his tricep smothered by one of her H cups while his forearm was pressing against the usually soft, cuddly part of her middle. But now it was not soft. It was taunt and hot and solid, spilling around the waistband of her jeans, testing them, and almost vibrating against his arm in a way that plagued his thoughts. âGod, that was good.â She happily chimed, wriggling against his arm happily. He couldnât get the thought out of his head that her stomach just felt so⌠So hot. How was it so warm? âWe should do this again sometime.â
âSeriously?â
âYeah? Why not?â
âI⌠Iâm just surprised. How are you even thinking of more food?â That was true he wasnât actually opposed to the idea, just amazed.
She made a face, drawing herself away from him as if sheâd been offended. âBitch, weâll be picking up some Mcflurries on the way home if youâre not careful. And then Iâll have you feeding me. Every. Damn. Bite.â She poked her long nailed finger into his chest to emphasise each word. âSpoon by spoon, laying in bed.â After a beat she broke into a grin, teeth glinting in the light, contrasting her tan skin and her obsidian, wavy hair.There it was. The crushing confidence she could weld like a hammer. âAnd donât act like you wouldnât enjoy it too.â
Even if she was just teasing him, there were already butterflies in his stomach. After all these years she was still breathtaking to him and whenever she took charge, he melted. âI just⌠How do you even have room?â
Her eyebrows rose and she tilted her head, a coyness in her smile. She reached down with both hands to pop the button of her jeans open. Quin paled as his eyes widened and he watched as her stomach swelled forwards, as if she were inhaling and pushing out, growing and reaching forwards towards him. The silver teeth on her zipper chu-chunked quietly open as her belly shrugged off its confines to its fully spherical freedom. Facetiously Sofia tapped her chin and thought. âYep. Yep, I totally have room for some ice cream.â Quin was stunned.
She swooped back in close to him, hugging his arm back to where it was and forcefully, maliciously rubbing her chest into it. âYouâve never complained about me eating before. What, you worried these calories wonât go straight to my tits like they usually do?â She purred. Smugly, she watched the cogs in his brain churning from her 5â5 vantage point, watched his eyes dart down towards the assets she was weaponising. He couldnât help but look down the laced up front of her top, down into the Mariana trench of cleavage. Instantly he was weak at the knees - a bulge in his own jeans.
âLet's hurry home.â He stated, a certain steel in his voice, a purpose in his stride.
They ended up getting the Mcflurries. Both naked in bed, Sofiaâs prophetic statement had come true. Heâd fed her two Mcflurries in bed, groping and feeling her body all the while. With both her hands free, sheâd been stroking his length the entire time, pressing it against her thigh and working him up into a frenzy, all while masterfully teasing her own erogenous zones. âItâs finished.â He said, tense and pent up.
Taking the cup from him, Sofia used her middle finger - the one sheâd sunk down to the third knuckle into herself - to go around the edge of the waxy paper, collecting up the sweet, melted remains of the ice cream and mixing it with her own honey like juices. Hazel eyes flitting up to him as she tossed the empty Mcflurry away. Biting her tongue, she carefully lifted a breast up and, slowly, painted a circle of ice cream around the erect, red skin of her nipple with her cream covered finger tip. It almost made her shiver. Licking her finger clean, never taking her eyes off of him, she breathed, âyour turn.â
Not needing any further prompting, Quin pushed himself up right, eagerly shuffling around her laid out form so that he was between her legs, in front of that inflated, taunt, engorged dome that was her stomach. He marvelled at it for a moment. Usually it was doughy and pliable and soft, two loveable cushions with a crease in the middle, in line with her belly button. Right now she was so full that the crease was just a memory and, surprisingly, that ballooned middle somehow even made her breasts look small - which was a difficult task. But then again, those zeppelins were so gargantuan, drawn to the sides of her gut by their monumental weight⌠Okay, they didnât look that small. Smaller was the right word. And only in the sense that Jupiter could make Saturn look small. He reached out, tentatively cupping one massive tit from the side, drawing it up to sit more squarely on her chest, feeling itâs immense mass spilling over his fingers. They were so perfect. Somehow unmarred by stretch marks despite their rampant expansion in her pregnancy. A lot of their size had stayed since then. Even the deep, thick veins that had appeared back then were still visible, rivers under their surface. For a moment he wished she was still expressing. âWhat are you waiting for?â She beckoned, curling a leg around him to pull him closer, interrupting his devious thoughts. Shit, this was close enough to that, wasnât it? Hungrily, he leaned in, pushing his hips against her, his chest brushing her stomach, bowing his head to bring his lips to the ice cream slathered teat. Greedily, he licked at it, lapping up the ice cream and sending tingles along her spine before latching on to suck.
She writhed against him, one hand winding around her stomach and attempting to weave between their thighs to pleasure herself further. However, finding that was impossible, she opted to grind against him for a bit, smothering her crotch against his hip and leg, drawing small circles and gyrating for pleasure. But as she worked herself up to the point of leaving a trail of nectar on him, electricity coursing through her nerves up and down, Sofia gave an annoyed huff. She needed more. âAlright, enough foreplay.â Stroking his hair gently, she pushed him up. âCome on, time for the main course.â Laughing at her reference to food, she ignored his resistance as he fiended for more breast play. It took him a moment to snap to what she had said. Eagerly, clumsily, he reared up, throbbing dick slapping against her inner thigh as he did. Cooing, she encircled his member, guiding its drooling tip towards her drenched lips. God, she'd been horny throughout the entire buffet, loving how tight and full she was packing herself. For a long, long time sheâd always found it hot when she was full. When she was eating. The extra mass made her feel big. It made her feel powerful throwing her weight around - being able to leverage it and be more physical. More dominant. Towards the end of her pregnancy sheâd felt it constantly. Big and lumbering and in charge. Fuck, she always had Quin wrapped around her little finger but she could feel how much more intense it had been then. Bigger tits, bigger hips and bigger attitude. Heâd been putty in her hands. Sheâd demand the most ludicrous stuff and heâd deliver. Sheâd say jump and he wouldnât even ask how high, heâd just start jumping. And today she was feeling it again. Now, as her skinâs elasticity was being tested by her gluttony, she felt gargantuan. Any and every touch against her middle was getting her even more worked up with how sensitive it was.
His tip spread her sex as he thrust forwards carefully. It made her toes curl, legs coming up around him, moans and groans leaking out of her as she arched and pulled him in. Quin had been trying to go slow, to ease his way in and get into a rhythm while keeping her comfortable. But Sofia was so ready for this that they could skip that step. âFuck me.â Throaty, sultry words. âHard.â
Lust crazed, he frantically obeyed, his hips coming down powerfully, jostling her breasts beautifully, juxtaposed with her stomach which bounced as a huge, solid ball. He grabbed at her boobs, feeling the waves of flesh as he pumped faster and harder. Sofia, being jolted over and over again, was enraptured. Her full stomach felt amazing, the pain of her stretched organ bouncing against her ribs made her head spin each and every time it was bumped up and down time and time again. All that was her. All that weight. It took Quin going into a frenzy to bounce her around like this, to ram into her so, so hard. But she could handle it. She could handle more. âHarder.â She rasped, reaching up to slap a hand around his back, nails raking against his skin, pulling him down so his weight compressed her belly and breasts, forcing his hands to move out onto the mattress and steady himself. âFuck me as hard as you can, Quin.â She whispered into his ear. Bringing himself back up, Quin grabbed the headboard with both hands, anchoring himself somehow so that he could really get some torque. Sofia was laughing, the sounds coming out of her almost the way hiccups would due to how hard Quin was pistoning into her over and over - her wetness actually audible as he did so.
Blissfully being pounded, Sofia felt herself barrelling towards an orgasm. So, grabbing on tight, she held herself against Quin, purposefully pressing her distended belly into him, loving the feel of her girth against him, the aftershocks of his thrusts making her flesh slap against his delightfully. Gurgling, popping, whirring, her stomach squealed and purred and⌠The tightness diffused. On some semi conscious level, Sofia actually felt it, as if steam were being released from an engine, she felt her stomach soften and ease. And she felt an odd surge run up her spine, her breasts billowing outwards in a shudder, pushing up and out so that there was more contact with Quin. But there wasnât any time for the thoughts to be registered - for those sensations to be marked as noteworthy. Instead, as Quin let out a strangled groan, his hands releasing from the headboard and coming down on Sofiaâs curvy hips, a swell of pleasure popped like a soapy bubble. The walls of her pussy flexed and seized and fluttered, all sensations mashing together, her eyes squeezing shut, mouth opening to release a noise of ecstasy. âI-Iâm gonna -â Quin tried to choke out words as her reaction had a knock on effect on him. She felt him burst, his orgasm blasting into her with heavy ropes of cum.
âUhnnn!â A primitive, guttural sound tore out of her as her walls continued their dance with his pulsing dick, her pussy lapping at his rigid member, gorging itself as she herself had done earlier in the night. Together they climaxed.
Quin was snoring. It always amazed Sofia how quickly he was out after a bout of fucking. Any time of day, she could put his ass to sleep by jumping his bones. Well, until she woke him up for more fun. Although right now she wasnât as interested in that. She ran a hand over her stomach, feeling some of its regular doughiness had returned. Disappointment made her pout. After the feast sheâd scoffed down; she'd really thought that full feeling would have lasted for longer. Right now she for sure wasnât hungry, still feeling the weight of her meal there in her stomach, but it wasnât the same as being stuffed to the gills. Sheâd really wanted to go to bed feeling that full⌠And they did have a bunch of leftovers. Fuck it. Stretching in the bed, feeling her back pop and click, there was a slight surprise as she bumped the side of her breast with her arm as sheâd moved, making them jiggle together. That had felt⌠Off for some reason. As if theyâd been further out to the side than usual, more in the way. She dismissed it and swung her legs off of the bed, her feet hit the ground hard, jarring her. Okay, that felt off too and now Sofia frowned down at the ground, at her feet. After a moment of trying to piece together what felt so wrong, she relented, getting up and shaking her head in the dimly lit room. âWeird.â
Boobs swaying, she went over to her discarded underwear and stooped down to pulled on the bottoms. Snugly, the material slipped on, becoming more thong-like than it usually was, her cheeks gobbling up the material at the back while hair spilled out the sides of the front, the triangle of material being slightly overwhelmed by her womanhood. Sofia didnât notice and next she snatched up the bra, manoeuvring her orbs into the cups and reaching back to fasten the band. But then, oddly, she couldnât get the clasp shut. Twisting side to side - she tried a few times, hook and clasp missing each other every time - she swiftly got annoyed. Taking the bra off and reversing the whole thing, she tried again with the back at the front and the arms hanging down by her ribs. âWhat the fuck?â She whispered, now bewildered as well as frustrated. Even like this the two edges were just⌠Not... reaching⌠âUgh!â She let out a quiet grunt and threw it on the floor. Fuck it, topless it is. Not like anyone was going to see her that shouldnât at this time. And even if they did, so what? No one was going to be complaining.
Ignoring the strangeness from before, she went on her way, going down to the stairs, skipping the one that creaked, and towards the kitchen. She flipped the lights on, uncaring if her neighbours could see her nearly nude in her own home, and went straight to the fridge. Tearing it open she eagerly scooped the tupperware of leftover Italian out. Then the chinese. Then for good measure she grabbed the deli meats and cheese slices⌠And a pack of a dozen eggs with the block of butter balanced on top. Dumping it all on the countertop, she grabbed a pan and put it on the burner, sparking it up before turning to the Italian. Pasta, meatballs and a lot of thick, herby tomato sauce was slurped up from a fork, a single spaghetti being sucked between her pursed, luscious lips. Chewing, she got a knife, slicing a chunk off of the butter and scraping it against the edge of the pan to dislodge it. The pad of butter slid along the nonstick surface, leaving a trail of bubbling yellow goodness on the way. One by one she cracked the eggs in. All 12. All while periodically forking another load of spaghetti into her mouth every now and then.
Quickly scrambling the eggs up, she paused to twirl up the last bite of pasta and meatballs. Stuffing it into her mouth and chewing noisily, she cast a glance at the eggs and had a thought. Chomping, she tore open the cheddar cheese slices and threw a few into the pan.
The sweet and sour pork was next to disappear. Even before the cheese had melted into the eggs, Sofia was scraping the edges of the tupperware, collecting up every last grain of rice. Each mouthful had been filing her back up, adding to the constant, growing pressure beneath her ribs. Again her stomach had tightened, the shape pushing forwards so that the middle roll - the indentation - was shallower. The top of her stomach was beginning to fill out too, her belly feeling more than satisfied already. She paused for a moment, taking stock of the fullness that had started to creep up her chest. But it wasnât enough. She didnât want to be satisfied. She wanted to be crammed full, to feel big. That desire fueled her to eat more, to eat faster, the urge far stronger than any discomfort.
She took the eggs off the heat, not wanting them to dry out, and ripped open the sliced meat pack. Her addiction had snowballed as her gluttony had been fed. Sofia didnât have the time to organise these thin, flimsy slices of meat into a sandwich any more. Instead she began scrunching up a whole load at a time, stuffing them into her mouth. She did the same with the cheese. The bread too. As if she were ravenous, she ripped and gnawed and shredded the food, hunching over and eating and eating, crumbs and morsels spilling down onto her chest. Her breathing quickened, the feeling of her belly filling, expanding with the volume of food inside her, a gentle ache pulsing as it pushed against her ribcage. She could feel the weight of her stomach, the way it tugged at her, the way gravity was pulling on the extra weight. It only deepened the need for more. Breathing uncomfortable, a sheen of sweat on her brow, she had too much momentum to stop herself. With her hands she dug fistfuls of cheesy, gloopy egg up and inhaled it, licking the butter clean from her palms. The heat of the pan didnât even register to her as her voracious trance burned on, the exaggerated curve of her gut somehow stretching further, growing more, filling more. A dozen eggs, two full meals and a stack of lunch supplies. Yet, breasts being pushed apart by the smooth, aching, strained gut - full in the truest sense of the word - her greed was too overpowering. She didnât relent. Heavy footfalls took her to the pantry where she went diving into the snack-filled haven, searching for more calories.
Two sleeves of oreos and a whole sharers bag of M&Ms later, mouth thick with chocolate and biscuit, Sofia came out of her fat haze enough to realise she needed a drink. Back to the fridge. Back to the cool air that made her shiver and the large jug of milk on the shelf. She cracked it open and, right there with the door open, brought it to her lips, chugging the liquid down and letting it wash everything else along with it. Her stomach gurgled and sloshed and purred as the milk seeped in and filled any and every gap it could. Cold and blissfully filling, she could follow its journey into her over taxed gut - feeling it balloon the already overloaded, creaking organ even more. She was intoxicated with the feeling until a fluttering wave of cramps ran through her overtaxed middle. Giving a slight whimper, she lowered the jug a fraction before getting frustrated and immediately tilting it back up, this time at an even steeper angle.
Fighting through the pain, she swallowed, heavy, weighty gulps, over and over. Streams of white began to dribble out the edges of her mouth, dripping from her chin to pitter patter down onto her chest. Stomach groaning, overfilled, skin thin, a dizzying pain maing her sway, she didnât stop. Not until it was gone. Every drop. By the time she came up for air, she was panting rapid shallow breaths, heaving, every lungful tender and sore as her diaphragm flexed. It was only now that she looked down. What she saw shocked her at first. Somehow she looked even bigger than earlier in the day. A huge, malignant mass protruding out so large that it dominated her view and hid all of her feet besides the tips of her toes. More round. More stretched. Even more heavily pregnant. âHoly shit.â She hissed to herself, her left hand pressing against the side of the monster sheâd created. Flushed cheeks tugged as shock melted away and a large, food drunk grin manifested. A shiver ran through her as a new fire of arousal ignited. Nibbling her bottom lip she shook her belly with both hands, feeling its weight, feeling it slosh. Sofia felt absolutely massive.
Shutting the fridge, she hurried as fast as she could back to the bedroom, her clumsy footsteps thudding hard as she did. Even though she hit the creaky step in her rush, she got back to the room to find Quinn still out like a light. He could sleep through a fucking earthquake.
Slowly she climbed into bed, doing her best not to unsettle her husband as she did. Although she couldnât help the gleeful satisfaction hitting her as the springs in the bed creaked, her weight depressing the mattress thin. It was enough to shift Quin in the bed, making his stir and mumble, rolling onto his back and kicking some of the covers off. Sofia froze for a moment, gut laid on the bed, breasts hanging, a single arm wobbling under her weight as she waited and watched him. Then, once he settled, she gave a sigh, bringing down her other arm to thankfully take some of her mass. Still half suspended, her eyes scanned over Quin and a devilish thought came to her. Shimmying and shuffling, she scootched her butt closer to him, lifting her belly with two hands to heft it up and partially over his torso. Licking her lips, she gradually lowered herself onto him, gradually letting her weight smother him, feeling it spread over him. God, even though she was short, doing this made him feel small compared to her.
Sofia huffed that sensation in, feeling big - bigger than Quin. He wasnât the biggest but the blue collar work and his 5â10 meant he wasnât small either. But this⌠The fire between her legs grew hotter and despite herself, despite the risk of waking him, she had to quench the flames. Carefully at first, she slipped her hand between their bodies, rubbing at herself and purposefully pressing her stomach against Quin. It felt so fucking big against him, the stretched, sensitive skin singing, each synapse sizzling, electric, skin to skin. Sofia mewed quietly as she closed her eyes and focused on it. Focused on him being small against her. Her being big. âAhhn.â She breathed, fingers now able to slide easily into her sex. She wondered what it would feel like to be fucking him right now. To be on top of him, her weight crashing down over and over as she bounced on him.
Her knuckles slapped against Quinn for the fourth time before he stirred again, moaning as he shifted. Sofia quickly pulled her body off of him, rolling onto her back and continuing to ride the high. The sensational feel of her against him burned into her mind. She imagined it again. And this time, she imagined not only her being bigger, but her growing. Sheâd never imagined it before - staying away from gaining too much weight, only really entertaining it in her pregnancy. But now she imagined it. She imagined growing. Bustier. Thicker. Heavier. And for the first time ever, her brain explored into a direction sheâd never thought of. Taller. She didnât want to be fat. She wanted to be big. Large. Dominant. She wanted to be magnified in every sense of the word. Panting, trying not to let out lewd, lustful noises, she hummed out a sound instead, wriggling in the bed, juices now coating her fingers and inner thighs.
What would it feel like to be taller than Quinn? The same build, just scaled up bigger. What would it be like to be looking down at him? To reverse the sizes and be the one completely in charge? She was in charge now, strong enough to push him around and more than capable enough to get what she wanted - but what if she could pick him up and throw him down onto the bed instead? What if she could pin him down and slap her pussy right onto his face, grinding away until he made her cum? Shit, her tits would be bigger than his fucking head at that size. Big enough to smother his whole face under one fat tit. And her stomach would be so much bigger too. Sheâd need to eat even more but the result at that size would make her even more fucking colossal. Titanic. Gargantuan.
Sofia arched her back, hips rising as an orgasm sputtered through her. Curling her toes and clenching her body, she fought not to cry out - not to wake Quin as the scent of her sex filled the room. And as she orgasmed, thinking about being larger, the tightness in her stomach lessened.
Her ass bubbling bigger went unnoticed. Her thighs thickening, knees bending and heels digging into the mattress went under the radar. Even her breasts throbbing and pulsing, flesh seeping through her fingers as she mashed and kneaded one tit just wasnât registered.
When her hips dropped back down to the bed, it actually jolted Quin into a half awake haze. âSofia?â He sleepily murmured.
âY-yeah?â She huffed back, doing her best to keep her voice level. Wiping the hair from her face and the sweat from her skin, she rolled over to him. âWhatâs wrong, babe?â
âNothing.â Smiling happily, he extended an arm over her chest, hugging her. For one sleep addled second he questioned why they felt bigger enveloping his limb. But the thought dissipated like dye in the sea.