chapter 3

I tried not to be self-conscious as I walked around in a somewhat skimpy two-piece in Amber's back yard. There was a lot more of me than I was used to and it was quite embarrassing to put it out for everyone to see. Fortunately no one openly gawked, but I could imagine whispered conversations wondering how I had blimped up so quickly.

Evan of course made sure I was eating constantly, plate after plate until my belly was tight and round. Eventually I was so full that I had to recline in one of the chaise lounges, which just made me a sitting duck for Evan's relentless feeding.

I swelled larger and larger until I was seriously considering loosening the strings on my bottoms. Of course I was also getting hornier and hornier, so lost in thoughts of how he would ravage me later that I barely noticed it was getting dark and everyone else had left.

"Okay, time for us to head out also," Evan said, standing next to me.

"Ooh, one more plate?" I asked, rubbing my spherical midsection.

"We'll stop on the way home to top you off," he chuckled.

I held out my hands and he lifted me to my feet. I had to lean back slightly to offset the heaviness of my swollen middle.

"Thanks so much for having us," Evan said as he hugged Amber.

"Yes, thank *urp* you," I echoed as we hugged, her flat stomach pressing against my bloated mass.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she told us. "Evan, just do me one favor, okay? Don't feed her so much she actually pops."

They grinned at each other while I blushed.

"No promises," Evan smirked.

I waddled out, my jutting stomach leading the way like the prow of a barge. In the car Evan gently ran his fingers up and down the inside of my thigh, occasionally brushing against the front of my bikini bottoms so I was a hot and squirmy mess by the time he pulled up to the drive thru.

He ordered me a disgraceful amount of greasy fast food which of course I crammed down before got back to his place. He actually had to walk around to the other side of the car and help me extricate my bloated body from the front seat.

Once inside he grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer and led me to the bedroom. After getting me set up so I was reclining against a pile of pillows, he gently untied and removed my swimsuit.

Then he began to slowly feed me the ice cream. Spoonful after spoonful slid down, even though I would have bet money that my stomach couldn't stretch any more. The feeling of bloated discomfort grew more intense with each bite, my sides stretched and aching, my face flushed, my breathing ragged and heavy.

I was groaning, grunting, pleading. Every inch of my skin was on fire. The pressure built until it was unbearable.

And then the final bite melted in mouth, trickled into my stomach, and the pain became so exquisite that my thighs clamped together and my back arched and my eyes rolled back in my head as wave after wave of pleasure wracked my glutted form.

When I finally came to my senses Evan was there smiling at me.

"What do you think you'll look like when you hit 250?" he asked.

I groaned softly as I realized that he didn't mean it as an abstract thought exercise. At this rate it would soon be reality. And I was surprisingly okay with that.

FIN