Chapter 3

She shuffled off the stage toward me, weaving slightly and holding her very swollen middle.  I noticed a few people in the audience laughing quietly and pointing at her, apparently finding it rather funny to see a girl eat her way out of her pants. 

 

"Need to lay down," she gasped as soon as she got near me.

 

Fortunately there was a little clearing nearby, and we found a spot under the shade of a large tree.  Kelly laid flat on her back, both palms resting slightly on her overstuffed gut.  Every few seconds she hiccupped rather loudly, groaning as her belly jostled.  She was so far gone that she didn't even attempt to hide the fact that her shorts were unzipped.  After a nap she felt somewhat recovered, but didn't eat much the rest of the day. 

 

The following day I got a text -

 

"hope ur happy, holding pants closed with rubber band today.  embarrassed to ask for new pair, u made me too fat."

 

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The next week when I walked in to the electronics store I got to see for myself the effects of her gluttony at the fair.  Her slacks were stretched incredibly tight, she must have been wearing a thong to avoid showing the outline of her panties. She was stretching upwards as she put away some stock on a high shelf, and I saw that the front of her shirt had untucked itself.

 

I quietly walked closer to her, taking care not to be seen.  When I got right behind her, I swiftly reached around, snuck my hand up the bottom of her shirt, and grabbed her lower belly.

 

“Eek!” she squealed, quickly turning around. 

 

I grinned at her.

 

“Sean, not nice!” she huffed, her face bright red.

 

“Looks like those pies are still hanging around,” I said, poking her gut.

 

She tried to suck it in, but failed miserably as it barely budged.  With a sigh of defeat she relaxed her remaining stomach muscles and allowed her pudgy middle to freely swell out. 

 

“I had two people ask me today when I was due,” she admitted, patting her paunch. 

 

“I can believe it,” I replied.  “I’ve seen women eight months pregnant who have smaller bellies.”

 

“Not funny,” Kelly glared.  “Thank to you every time I bend over I worry that my pants button will pop off.”

 

I stepped back and took a good look at the button in question.  It was barely visible beneath her tummy, but visibly holding on for dear life.  Even the flap that covered the zipper was starting to pull back slightly. 

 

“I honestly can’t believe you squeezed into those pants,” I told her.  “Why don’t you just ask for a bigger uniform?”

 

“I asked Brenda for one this morning.  She said she’d get me a pair of 18’s, the biggest they have.  If I get fatter than that she’ll have to special order them.”

 

I chuckled.  “Think you’ll get fatter?”

 

Kelly looked at me, her eyes bright and her mouth quirking into a smile.  “I think that’s up to you.”