Chapter 2

This statement, excites him in more than one way, as he leans closer to the table setting his beer down to observe more in depth. His dark brown skin is caught out of its hiding place in the shadows, as a smile purses his lips.

The bartender leaves, scurrying to the back room to retrieve the food. Meanwhile the Scarlet woman, takes another sip from her wine, it is bitter, an acquired taste, but she has learned to enjoy it. She leans back, after setting her glass down, stretching outwards, her arms lifted high, and her tight red tank top doing the same. Revealed now was her complete belly, a slight fold beginning to form across her belly button. Her ribs, that had once been evident probably a month or so ago, are concealed beneath a layer of fat. She smiles, pulls down her shirt, and begins munching on some peanuts, in a cracked glass bowl beside her. The crumbs fall to her plump chest, jiggling arms, and of course bloated stomach.

The Writer turns to the men and women at his table, as they arise from their seats at the sound of a favorite song. The Writer remains, nodding off to them as they make their way to the dance floor, with their individual stickishly skinny girlfriends. The Scarlet woman turns in his direction, a pair of emerald eyes starring directly at his own hazel ones. The two lock for a moment, neither of them looking away. It isn’t until; the bartender arrives with the fried, spicy treat, of which she has ordered is this stare broken.

The Writer grins, removing his glasses, and running his fingers through his short black hair, readying for the approach. The Scarlet woman glances over, as she rests the plate in front of her. The Writer, arises from his seat, and maneuvers through the churning current of people. Once freed from this river, he sits upon the stool beside the scarlet woman, and orders a drink.

‘Root beer please,’ The Writer says, knowing he isn’t old enough to drink legally in this state.

The Scarlet woman, feasts, with an annexed hunger, tearing through the meat, allowing for the steaming hot souses, to stain her red blouse, plump face, arms, and bare stomach. This continues, without either of them saying a word, The writer enjoys his root beer, while the Scarlet woman, devours the plate of hot wings, as if it were the only meal she had eaten all day.

She belches, lifting up her shirt, and rubbing her belly with a pained moan. The Writer glances over, her belly, taut, and dotted with hot sauce, it is a lovely sight, as she begins smudging the sauce with her hands. She belches once more, and smiles, looking over in his direction, with hot sauce on her face.

‘I am so full,’ she said with a hot sauced littered smile.

The Writer nods, taking the last sip of his root beer, and spinning round in his chair.

‘That’s why you don’t eat them all at once,’ The Writer replied, outstretching a hand.

‘Ben Walker,’ the writer said, as the Scarlet woman shaking his hand.

‘Scarlet O’Brien,’ she replied, releasing her grip, and arising from her seat.

‘If you don’t mind, could you watch my spot,’ she asked, as she rubbed her stomach, the tight flesh seeming to glow in the dim light.

‘No worries, it’s safe with me…,’ Ben replied, as he examined the bare plate, not even a drop of hot sauce remaining.

She smiled, threw a friendly wave, and walked herself to the restroom…

Part II

She had him on the ropes, just the way she wanted him. She slipped into the empty odd smelling restroom, her engorged stomach swaying, and jiggling as she did. Turning to the mirror, she examined her plump, rounded, hot sauce stained face. A few months ago, her facial features had once been striking and profound, but now, they were being subdued by a layer of fat that would not let up. As was her figure, round, and distorted. Her breasts, were at the verge of busting from her already enlarge bra, as her underwear, once her favorite most form fitting pair, was digging into her skin. Her ass, stretched the fabric of her jeans, as her widened wasteline helped this as well. Her bare hips, seemed to glisten with sweat, as she approached the nearest sink, and began washing her face. Her belly, while standing up, was in the shape of an upper case ‘B’, when sitting, a deep fold formed across her belly button, just barely allowing her belly button ring to peak through. A tatto, which the Writer Ben, had yet to notice, of a vine, ran from the back of her hips, up her side, and stopped right near her breasts, forming a gorgeous purple flower. The flower, that had once been oh so well done, was now stretched do to her sudden weight gain.

She pulled her hair out of her face, tying it up into a long flowing pony tail. Blonde streaks ran through it, giving knowledge to one who looked hard enough, that red wasn’t her original hair color. Turning on the faucet, she cupped some of the cold water into her hands, and splashed it upon her face. Reaching for a paper towel, she dried herself, the drops of hot sauce stil staining, her breasts, belly, and hips. With a weary sigh, she tugged her pants upwards, pulled her shirt down, which only managed to reach the very top of her bely button, and went right back out into the club…

Before I continue, let me inform you abit about miss. Scarlet Lovett. Scarlet, growing up, was a gorgeous, stunningly popular girl, who on her off time played tennis for the high school tennis team. Her mother, was a doctor, and her father a surgeon, making her family rather wealthy. The fact that she was an only child, added to how spoiled and well treated she was. Yet, when she was whisked off to collage, things changed, her constant partying got the better of her, and thus her grades dropped. Both her mother and father were furious, and in doing so, cut off all of her funds. Without enough money to pay for classes, she dropped out, and quickly got a job at a coffee shop in order to pay for her rent. There she met a girl by the name of Nancy, and ever since then, Scarlet has seemed to be putting on the pounds. It is only recently did she embrace her new flab, and in the process, discover the famed right Ben Brady, had an intrest in her newly bloated figure…

She stepped out into the club, that still smelled of sweat, and beer. The music was playing louder, the irritating techno beat ringing at her ears. Still sitting at the bar was Ben Brady, watching the people dance, while at the same time, taking a sip from his root beer.