Chapter 6

Everything smelled so good, but I promised to myself not too much. I filled a large plate with french fries, a little army of chicken brochettes, and several small pizza like things, before wedging myself in between the table and the wall as I sat down, noticing a pitcher of water left for me. I started with small bites, a fry or two, nibbling on the brochettes, but it wasn't more than a handful of minutes before my plate was empty, washed down by some water. I was still hungry, and got up for seconds... and thirds. And I still wasn't full, and made my way back, for desert. Small cakes, puddings and jello filled my new plate, and I actually knocked a plate out of someone's hand reaching over for the cookies I took, my butt had bumped into him, for which I apologized profusely.

As I sat there, my bloated stomach pushing into the table, and my watermelon boobs on the top, I finished off the cakes, I felt it again. The gas was building, and I tried to hold it, I really did, but several nearby patrons definitely heard my fart explode into the bottom of the bench. I was utterly humiliated as I saw their heads turn my way, and worked hard to resist the urge rub my pussy through the sheer fabric of my dress. But I still finished my desert. I sat there, for a few minutes, getting ready, throwing down some money onto the table, pushing my way out of the restaurant as fast as I could.

Another embarrassing taxi ride home (I paid way more than I should have, due to another gas attack in the cab), I dropped my bags and purse at the door, leaning against it, and catching my reflection in the mirror opposite the door, fingered myself to possibly the strongest orgasm I have ever had. I was absolutely humiliated by my appearance, and what little I had gone through today, the thought of all those people disgusted by my excess, the farting in the restaurant, all as I stared at myself in the mirror brought me orgasm number two.

I spent the rest of the weekend lying in bed, playing with myself between spurts of eating, passing gas and showering to keep clean. I was worried, horribly worried about returning to work on Monday, but every time I let myself think of it, my cunt betrayed me. I was really sore by the time Monday morning came, and I began the effort to get dressed. I replaced the bra I had been wearing with one of the ones I found in the closet. Getting the cups in place wasn't that difficult, but closing it from behind was a ten minute affaire I had to rest from several times, as the effort of pulling it closed, holding the weight of my breasts, and lifting my arms was just too much. Thankfully, replacing my panties was not nearly as hard, just require a large amount of tugging to get it all the way over the massive cheeks that made up my ass.

I tugged a white blouse on, until it covered all of my belly. Between my belly and my breasts, the blouse was stretched out at least two feet in front of me. The business pants I had chosen were held in place naturally simply be being stretched to their max to get around me, held in place by my fat. What light make up I had, and finishing up took another half hour, before I called yet another taxi to take me to the office.